tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-88653772024-03-12T17:48:46.694-07:00St. Michael & All Angels ArtsA place for the creative endeavors of the Episcopal Parish of St. Michael & All Angels in Tucson, Arizona.
Submissions wanted!Karen Funk Blocherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16860091802901743222noreply@blogger.comBlogger47125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8865377.post-89148389494558253802015-10-30T10:23:00.002-07:002015-10-30T10:25:06.814-07:00Dia de los Muertos at St. Michael's 2015<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Karen Funk Blocherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16860091802901743222noreply@blogger.com0St Michael & All Angels Church, 602 N Wilmot Rd, Tucson, AZ 85711, USA32.2289582 -110.856738800000025.3741357 -152.16533280000002 59.083780700000005 -69.548144800000017tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8865377.post-45322655667026444222015-04-17T13:05:00.000-07:002015-04-17T13:05:15.938-07:00Announcements Through April 21st<ul>
<li><div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="text-transform: uppercase;">taize service WILL be held Tuesday, April 21
in</span></b><b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; text-transform: uppercase;"> </span>CHURCH. <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Spend
some quiet time at the end of the</span> <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">day
with meditation, music and scripture readings. </span>ALL ARE </b><b><span style="font-size: 11.0pt; text-transform: uppercase;">invited to attend.</span></b></div>
</li>
</ul>
<div>
<span style="font-size: 14.6666669845581px; text-transform: uppercase;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<ul>
<li><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">PARISH LIFE INVITES YOU ~<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Thursday, April 30 ~ 6:30 PM to Join us
at ~<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Poco and Mom’s Cantina ~ Banquet Room<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Located at 7000
E. Tanque Verde (SW Corner of Sabino Canyon) Entrees range from $7 - 12
each. Gracias! </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; text-align: center;">Reservation Sheets in
back of Church</span></div>
</li>
</ul>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.3333330154419px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<ul>
<li><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Please return your UTO (United
Thank Offerings envelopes no later than May10th.
There are extra UTO envelopes on the usher’s table. We thank you for your
generosity!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
</li>
</ul>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<ul>
<li><div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">
<b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; text-transform: uppercase;">STEWARDSHIP BY
THE NUMBERS<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<b>Alleluia! The Lord is Risen indeed!</b> How does our money and the stewardship we
exercise over it relate to the message of Easter? It may be as simple as saying: I believe Jesus rose from the dead. I believe that Jesus’ risen life can be
experienced in word and sacrament. I
believe Jesus intended his followers to be part of a community of faith. I give sacrificially so that the ongoing
ministry of justice, peace, and reconciliation can be lived out in Jesus’ Name.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
This
year’s Special Easter Offering, of over $6,000, is for the needs of our St.
Michael household – to restore the wood of our church entrance, repair our
organ and to replace funds we have borrowed from ourselves the past few years
to cover deficits in our annual budget.
Many faithful stewards of our parish have died in recent years. We want to encourage many good works and
outreach to the poor and homeless in our community and health promotion ministry
in Guatemala, so the Discretionary Fund, Social Action, Meals Program, Food
Pantry, and Guatemala Project have regular collections. The parish supports all of these
ministries. Thank you for your faithful
stewardship to our parish work. Jesus is
“indeed” risen and the Holy Spirit is moving among us! <o:p></o:p></div>
</li>
</ul>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8865377.post-39702637805613294002014-04-18T23:04:00.001-07:002014-04-18T23:04:49.207-07:00A Meditation for Good Friday<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gVLo2DXRyXo/U1IRy5GV0eI/AAAAAAAAl5M/igs4zHwVM9g/s1600/cros0250.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gVLo2DXRyXo/U1IRy5GV0eI/AAAAAAAAl5M/igs4zHwVM9g/s1600/cros0250.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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Meditation
for Good Friday, 2014</div>
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St.
Michael and All Angels Episcopal Church</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
By
Karen Funk Blocher</div>
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<br /></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Matthew 27:45-47 (NRSV): 45 From noon on,
darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon. 46 And about
three o’clock Jesus cried with a loud voice, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” that
is, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” 47 When some of the bystanders
heard it, they said, “This man is calling for Elijah.” </i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Mark 15:33-35 (NRSV): 34 At three o’clock
Jesus cried out with a loud voice, “Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?” which means,
“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” 35 When some of the bystanders
heard it, they said, “Listen, he is calling for Elijah.” </i></div>
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<br /></div>
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Here we have the
only thing Jesus is reported as saying from the cross in more than one Gospel,
and the only saying from him that is reported in its original language
(Aramaic). Those otherwise unfamiliar words make the quote stand out all the
more for modern English-speaking readers, and are necessary to our
understanding why people might have thought he was calling on the prophet
Elijah. But the English words “My God, My God, what have you forsaken me?”
would be memorable in any case. Who would otherwise suspect that the Son of
God, “one in being with the Father,” as the Nicene Creed puts it, would feel
abandoned by the Father, let alone shout it from the cross, moments before his
death?</div>
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<br /></div>
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There are a number
of theories about why Jesus said this, each designed to emphasize his Divinity,
his humanity, or just his general awesomeness. Some people point out that this
is the first line of the 22<sup>nd</sup> Psalm, the same one we hear every year
on Good Friday. The psalm of the suffering servant, it begins with these
anguished words, and goes on with a tale of woe that seems to be fulfilled at
Golgotha: the mockery by others, and the casting of lots for the sufferer’s
clothing. But the psalm ends in renewed faith and praise of the Lord. In saying
just that first line of the psalm, one theory goes, Jesus is expecting his
hearers, who would know the psalm from memory, to run the whole thing through
in their minds. Far from being an expression of despair and loss of faith,
Jesus is in effect offering one last rabbinical lesson from the cross, saying,
“See, this is what I am doing, in fulfillment of the Father’s plan. Praise
him!” Or something like that.</div>
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Somehow, such an
explanation sounds too sanitized and comforting to fit in with the extremity of
the situation. So does Theory #2, which goes back to the earliest days of
Christianity. In this scenario, Jesus was born human, and was infused with
divine Spirit at his baptism in the Jordan. That which is divine in Jesus
leaves its human vessel on the cross. Truly abandoned by God, in this fashion if
not in the grand scheme of things, the again-human Jesus cries out and dies.
The problem with this theory is that it means that God, in the person of the
Son, doesn’t see things through and truly experience the death. The sacrifice
would appear to be incomplete, and therefore in vain.</div>
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<br /></div>
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But what if Jesus,
as we believe, is fully God and fully human at the same time, all the way
through the moment of death? That would mean that Jesus experienced it all as a
human, while still maintaining his divinity. What, then, are we to make of
crying out his feeling of abandonment by the part of himself that went beyond
human flesh? If he was divine to the very end, he would know that he was not
truly abandoned, and that this was all part of the plan he had repeatedly
spoken of to both friends and enemies. But he would still <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">feel </i>abandoned. What could be more human than feelings of
abandonment and betrayal, even when intellectually you know better, or when in
your better moments you at least have faith that you are not forgotten? Even
without the extremity of going from being celebrated by crowds to being
tortured by enemies while friends do nothing, we share in this feeling…</div>
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<br /></div>
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…when we languish in a hospital or
care facility for days or weeks, with hardly a visitor and the strong suspicion
that the doctors and nurses either don’t know what is happening or are
withholding information…</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
…when we face a financial crisis,
and no one seems willing or able to help…</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
…when we are robbed or cheated, and
police show no interest in the situation…</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
…when family members leave us, in
divorce, discord or death.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
That fascinating
and faintly blasphemous musical, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Jesus
Christ Superstar,</i> shows us a Jesus who suffers and has doubts, who argues
with God and despairs but ultimately goes through with the chosen Way of the
Cross. This view of Jesus may be a tad too skeptical for believers, but the
emotion of it feels eminently believable, even for a man who was also God. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Perhaps the real
Jesus, at the end of the longest, most difficult day of his life, truly felt
abandoned, by Man if not by God. In crying out the words of the Psalm, perhaps
he was reminding himself, as well as any witnesses, that God never promised a
lack of suffering – and that even in the most extreme of situations, God was
still there to be cried out to.</div>
Karen Funk Blocherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16860091802901743222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8865377.post-72733733580947548142010-01-18T22:39:00.002-07:002010-01-20T04:17:39.225-07:00The Prophetic SignThe new prophetic sign, painted by artist and parishioner <b>Bob Bennett</b>, was dedicated on Sunday, January 16th with readings, prayers and blessings. Here are some photos of the occasion:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/jsDSdps16PGRrEM5lnjnjQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/S1U_rhKZObI/AAAAAAAAVzE/nrl1RAuiS_8/s800/sign3772.jpg" /></a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/hN7RB9-b9U70vWYqw5euOw?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/S1U_sH3v1pI/AAAAAAAAVzI/A0KliK8yK94/s800/sign3773.jpg" width="550" /></a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/0GtUitCBJA1PT4gtmxkoPw?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/S1U_t0gmKaI/AAAAAAAAVzc/BhjXndraVxA/s800/sign3781.jpg" width="550" /></a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/dP9qM2zMw0guPu5lCBdIYA?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/S1U_u3LkHvI/AAAAAAAAVzk/KQJlDMpd9wQ/s800/sign3784.jpg" width="550" /></a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/wEkycwog0YSzdrYUix7EPg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/S1U_wZY_oSI/AAAAAAAAVzw/b_oHPV0G3z0/s800/sign3791.jpg" width="550" /></a><br />
<br />
More photos on the <a href="http://smaa.blogspot.com/2010_01_01_archive.html#1401115874935082104">news blog</a>.<br />
<br />
All photos by KFBKaren Funk Blocherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16860091802901743222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8865377.post-19859071169457838402009-12-27T18:22:00.002-07:002010-01-20T17:06:13.077-07:00Christmas Music, 2009Here is some visual evidence of this year's Christmas music at the <a href="http://smallangelstucson.org/">Episcopal Parish of St. Michael and All Angels</a>. Sorry, no audio!<br />
<br />
<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/kOLnuA3evbiQ2Cf0lDumAw?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/Szf5_PfBVZI/AAAAAAAAVnY/vU0hopBh9P4/s800/smxm3682.jpg" width="550" /></a><br />
<br />
At St. Michael's, the Christmas services begin with the 5 PM Family Mass on Christmas Eve. This is the service at which children help to set up the creche amid the appropriate Gospel readings and carols. Here, Father Smith leads the congregation in a Christmas carol. The woman at the piano, Better Miller, flies in every Thanksgiving and Christmas and plays for us. (She's mostly here to visit family.)<br />
<br />
<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/sXkVz9umF4wXFH4-Z5W7WA?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/Szf6A-L_eQI/AAAAAAAAVnc/kF-BxndzsUU/s800/smxm3686.jpg" width="550" /></a><br />
<br />
A major feature of music at St. Michael's is the <a href="http://smallangelstucson.org/music.html">Aeolian-Skinner pipe organ</a>, which I photographed extensively years ago. In a loft at the back of the church is the antiphonal organ, seen here. It's an extra section of pipes far away from the main organ, which is housed in a chamber behind the church sanctuary.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Txq9Dli5qKrJoW4c4Xs2ZQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/Szf6BmrIl_I/AAAAAAAAVng/oheaT_dBR4k/s800/smxm3687.jpg" width="550" /></a><br />
<br />
The other main source of music at St. Michael's is the parish choir, directed by Jane Haman, who also plays the organ. Their Christmas performance is the "midnight" mass on Christmas Eve, which actually starts at 10 PM with carols and bible readings. They are supplemented by a string quartet - or is it a trio?<br />
<br />
<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/GXAooIcj5lIvChJK9hKIRg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/Szf6CGp5eNI/AAAAAAAAVnk/zFvN_XMJX1o/s800/smxm3691.jpg" width="550" /></a><br />
<br />
Aha. The fourth instrument in the quartet is the organ, played here by parishioner and choir member Keith Hege. Chuck Haman turns the pages.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/WytEfvP9vjmGgFb4fy-DLg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/Szf6Cld4ZXI/AAAAAAAAVno/Yprv94DrpGg/s800/smxm3692.jpg" width="550" /></a><br />
<br />
The string players are the evening's "hired guns."<br />
<br />
<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/TqJJ7taJWG62Hem80b50xA?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/Szf6D9nMyGI/AAAAAAAAVns/OzrOYS45HbM/s800/smxm3702.jpg" width="550" /></a><br />
<br />
There is a Mass held early Christmas morning, but I'm sure you'll understand when I say I always skip that one, attending "just" the other three. The other Mass of Christmas Day is at 10:15 AM. Jane, Chuck and the choir take a well-deserved day off, and composer (and retired English teacher from the St. Michael's Parish Day School) Alan Schultz plays instead. Both his original music and the classical pieces he selects tend to put the organ through its paces, showing off the range of notes a few thousand pipes can produce. My favorite bits are when he has a "call and response" between the pipes behind the sanctuary and the antiphonal pipes in back.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/kjmQld08EqCwNi1KmL_Wxg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/Szf56AzusgI/AAAAAAAAVnI/ZTxc5yfVda4/s800/smxm3704.jpg" width="550" /></a><br />
<br />
There are openings to the right and left of the sanctuary, through which banks of pipes can be seen. It took me a few tries to get the shot, but I kind of like the underlit versions.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/VNty7SJyhf1re88sdON8wg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/Szf58V_TIJI/AAAAAAAAVnM/zYmPSsaN9jE/s800/smxm3705.jpg" width="550" /></a><br />
<br />
Here's a better shot of the same pipes and poinsettia, taken with flash.<br />
<br />
KarenKaren Funk Blocherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16860091802901743222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8865377.post-24592593804306634402009-10-22T00:13:00.004-07:002009-10-22T00:23:22.617-07:00Images of Michaelmas by Reed Karaim<table style="width: auto;" align="center"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/3ChiBGz9UhecnpDe1OsZ3A?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/SuACHTq7k1I/AAAAAAAAUi0/lAGWEXrZQqA/s800/R1-13Ae.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/Mavarin2/StMichaelAllAngelsArts?feat=embedwebsite">St. Michael & All Angels Arts</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/z2XzrGLiz6DUGL61fDZ-LA?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/SuACHqkMWwI/AAAAAAAAUjA/RUFh9x_kVk8/s800/R1-%203Ae.jpg" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;" class="gphoto-photocaption-caption">Ready to Support St. Michael!</span><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/pD6Htewfe__i-qUBGHVIWg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/SuACHmCMX1I/AAAAAAAAUjE/oUhoTSaLGD8/s800/reed3868e.jpg" /></a><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/dRO1v2OD32ux1oIaMAVrYQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/SuACHXnC20I/AAAAAAAAUi4/NPe24iryT4c/s800/R1-19Ae.jpg" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"><span>Blessing the City.</span><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/zU91ZNUI9wVYCm1nJh2hQg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/SuACHWne-8I/AAAAAAAAUi8/Cxocs9F6NAA/s800/R1-21Ae.jpg" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;" class="gphoto-photocaption-caption">Mariachi Brillante Juvenil.<br /><br />All photos copyright 2009 by Reed Karaim.<br /></span></div>Karen Funk Blocherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16860091802901743222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8865377.post-68107176355071777842009-10-22T00:01:00.006-07:002009-10-22T00:24:13.497-07:00Images of Michaelmas by Jim Peterson<table style="width: auto;" align="center"><tbody><tr style="font-style: italic;" align="center"><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/GqC6bO7F9N1Bvcgj3XbR9A?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/St_-FfBryMI/AAAAAAAAUiA/bjPtch5gvak/s800/jimp0002e.jpg" /></a><br /><span style="" class="gphoto-photocaption-caption">St. Michael icon, Michaelmas 2009</span><br /></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/Mavarin2/StMichaelAllAngelsArts?feat=embedwebsite">St. Michael & All Angels Arts</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/S21FaoPkFydeQQm0fVdIZw?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/St_-FdsT16I/AAAAAAAAUiE/dqff6LmuAdc/s800/jimp0012e.jpg" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;" class="gphoto-photocaption-caption">Carrying in the St. Michael icon</span><br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/46uC_tcx-_in7fzdpb9buw?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/St_-FSRgxgI/AAAAAAAAUiI/jioDWv96tGk/s800/jimp0019e.jpg" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;" class="gphoto-photocaption-caption">During the Mass.</span><br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/qC3IL9hB3t4wAow0KcOONQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/St_-FhqEHSI/AAAAAAAAUiM/EEzm0PQZBP8/s800/jimp0039e.jpg" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Blessing the City.</span><br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/W7i5hmYHyllGQ5tD_NJgwA?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/St_-FkvjqmI/AAAAAAAAUiQ/e9ugPI_6eQQ/s800/jimp0042e.jpg" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;" class="gphoto-photocaption-caption">Mariachi Brillante Juvenil.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;" class="gphoto-photocaption-caption">All photos copyright 2009 by Jim Peterson.</span><br /></div>Karen Funk Blocherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16860091802901743222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8865377.post-89887292289672774702009-02-08T02:55:00.002-07:002009-02-08T03:17:33.021-07:00From the Camera of Sue PeyronSue has forwarded some photos she's taken at church over the last couple of years, including a series of pictures from a Casa Maria night lst summer. Other photos date back to 2007, and feature Rev. Angela Emerson, Proscovia King and lots of other folks. Enjoy!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Sunday, Apr 21, 2007</span></div><br /><table style="width: auto;" align="center"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/yMOept2KuO-vrvLoGM1Ptg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/SY3vL0w5hkI/AAAAAAAANPM/aI1by3zGjBE/s800/boat0160.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;"><br />From the Picasa album <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/Mavarin2/StMichaelAllAngelsArts?feat=embedwebsite">St. Michael & All Angels Arts</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >Tuesday, May 8, 2007</span><br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/ff4G79mNQUoY33SWMGd_MQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/SY3vMZ3R75I/AAAAAAAANPU/e0U8pCXr3lA/s800/cake0119.jpg" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/CtoYavUf-YIUxwZitV33LA?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/SY3vNqM63oI/AAAAAAAANPc/G-RdjiiL9DA/s800/cofe0120.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/l9SOcMF7tVlFjoyKtupgrQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/SY3vOfsOJyI/AAAAAAAANPk/7TJc8c3pmfQ/s800/rvang0122.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" ><br />Friday, August 1, 2008</span><br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/1ERyekHs9qqFup9RQyziFw?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/SY3vP_uqFJI/AAAAAAAANP8/iBmYpempJSQ/s800/casa0742.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/L_QRqjH0CJ-MIoxy_mBVFA?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/SY3vQ_jUJ2I/AAAAAAAANQE/RvocbNPgXTs/s800/casa0743.jpg" /></a></div><br /><br />More of Sue's photos can be seen in the <a href="http://smallangelstucson.org/ministries.html#Casa">Casa Maria section</a> of our Ministries page. Thanks, Sue!Karen Funk Blocherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16860091802901743222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8865377.post-61208950511083950942009-01-01T16:16:00.006-07:002009-01-01T17:28:58.042-07:00Breaking the CodeFreely adapted from the <span style="font-style: italic;">Outpost Mâvarin</span> entries <a href="http://outmavarin.blogspot.com/2008/12/breaking-code.html">Breaking the Code</a> and <a href="http://outmavarin.blogspot.com/2009/01/year-that-doesnt-end.html">The Year That Doesn't End</a>.<br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://smallangelstucson.org/" title="St. Michael's and All Angels Church Tucson"><img style="width: 551px; height: 176px;" src="http://smallangelstucson.org/adobename.jpg" alt="The Episcopal Parish of St Michael and All Angels, 602 North Wilmot Road, Tucson AZ 85711" /></a></div><br />My sleep schedule has gotten upended in recent weeks, with me sleeping mostly at night - what a concept! That has resulted in me posting in the morning, which historically I almost never did except at the end of a long night of working on the entry. But Tuesday night I was up all night wrangling HTML for the St. Michael and All Angels <a linkindex="17" href="http://smallangelstucson.org/">web site</a>, and afterward I had to sleep before doing anything else.<br /><br />I pretty much spent all of Wednesday fussing with the St. Michael's site some more, with way more expert assistance from <a href="http://www.barrettmanor.com/julie/journal.aspx">Julie B</a> than anyone could reasonably expect. Every one of the main pages now has a cool individualized header similar to the one at the top of this entry, and color coordinated links at the bottom, and much less text that looks <span style="font-size:78%;">tiny</span> because of a difference of opinion between GoDaddy (which likes modern span tags) and SeaMonkey (which likes old-fashioned font tags). Thanks to Julie, some of the pages are now linked to a style sheet that simplifies the formatting a bit, but I still have much work ahead of me streamlining everything. If being a geek is defined as technological competence, then the day has been a blow to my geek standing. I really, really don't understand css (cascading style sheets) well at all. But I'll learn. I will!<br /><br />And look what I've gotten from all my efforts to solicit links, update pages and submit technical stuff to Google. As of yesterday, a search for the terms "St. Michael Church Tucson" did not have the church's home page on on first three screens. Only the schedule page showed up, and the old version of the site on mavarin.com, and some malcontent griping about St. Michael's on a blog one day. Google didn't even know about some incoming links that I knew existed, including from Episcopal Church USA and my blog sidebars. But look at the result I got late Wednesday afternoon ago for "St. Michael's Church Tucson," which previously had similar results:<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/jkftHpvqARvAL-YLRtF38w?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/SVxRXrePgoI/AAAAAAAALK8/vNFvhUscQ8A/s800/goog3rd.jpg" /></a><br /></div><br />We were the third entry on the first page, right behind two links for St. Michael's Parish Day School. Fair enough: they have a bunch of links from sites about schools, and have had a considerable web presence much longer than the church itself. I've been the church webmaster exactly five years, and frankly I coasted along on static pages (read: stale and unchanging) for much of that time.<br /><br />But now the pages are bright and new, with nicer graphics and somewhat better coding. Some of them even have dynamic content, after a fashion. The <a href="http://smallangelstucson.org/community.html">Community page</a> now has two slideshows, fed from the same Picasa albums that store graphics for the church's news and arts blogs. As I upload more photos, they'll be in the slideshows as well. The main <a href="http://smallangelstucson.org/sermons.html">Sermons page</a> has a widget showing the most recent entries on the Sermons podcast blog, to which Father Smith will upload more sermons any year now. And the home page and schedule page both feature a widget for recent entries on the news blog. Next I'm hoping to find a widget for the <a href="http://smallangelstucson.org/seasons.html">Seasons</a> page that can tell you which liturgical season it is <span style="font-style: italic;">right now</span>, and maybe even how such things are calculated. For the moment I've settled for links to two liturgical calendars that list all the feast days and link to each day's Lectionary readings.<br /><br />Wednesday night I was so distracted by the Casa Maria section at the bottom of the <a href="http://smallangelstucson.org/ministries.html">Ministries</a> page, which refused to align left no matter what I did, that I lost track of the time. When midnight came, I was typing a "div" tag. John gave me a heads up on the time, and I rushed to turn on <span style="font-style: italic;">Dick Clark</span>, kiss John and grab some sparkling Martinelli's cider, pretty much in that order. We missed the ball drop; it was probably 12:01 AM when we kissed. Ah, well, close enough. We marveled about Dick Clark still hanging in there, years after his stroke, acknowledged that neither of us cared for the show's music (admittedly on the basic of one or two songs only), and John soon turned his DVD of the British series <span style="font-style: italic;">Spaced </span>back on. Happy New Year, John, and can you tell me how to fix the alignment on this table?<br /><br />We got the alignment problem fixed, and sometime after midnight I happened to refresh the Google search. This is what I saw:<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a set="yes" linkindex="7" href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/qvz0_HIHUe1ScBI7i00N-w?authkey=wdIHMIXJ30M&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/SVy0ygI8BII/AAAAAAAALLQ/yX-HtwPYFZY/s800/goog1st.jpg" /></a><br /></div><br />As reasonable as it seems that a search for "St. Michael's Church Tucson" would point to a church in Tucson called St. Michael's as its first result, I had recently despaired of ever getting Google to do that on the basis of my amateur webgeekery. So the year ends on a slight up note. I don't have a job, but at least I managed to accomplish something as the parish webmaster.<br /><br />Happy New Year, folks!<br /><br />KarenKaren Funk Blocherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16860091802901743222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8865377.post-11607570255837983252008-12-30T11:20:00.005-07:002008-12-30T11:48:55.339-07:00The Dregs of ChristmasAdapted from <a href="http://outmavarin.blogspot.com/2008/12/dregs-of-christmas.html">The Dregs of Christmas</a> on <span style="font-style: italic;">Outpost Mâvarin</span>:<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a linkindex="3" href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/K7GQFyZ2q5-iPuuEKeRvYg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/SVpki3Rz5pI/AAAAAAAALJQ/EF7QpJ1q0iE/s800/xmas00276.jpg" /></a><br /></div><br />What are you supposed to do with the other 11 days of Christmas?<br /><br />The only way some people know there was ever more than one day of Christmas is from that song with the partridge in a pear tree. For them, Christmas ends with the first serving of turkey or ham, or with the opening of the day's last gift on December 25th. Father Smith mentioned in his Christmas sermon this year that early in his priesthood he once saw a discarded Christmas tree with tinsel and a few broken ornaments by a dumpster, at 9 AM on Christmas morning. I'm guessing that was a corporate tree, an office tree. Or maybe it was the tree of some divorced parent whose visitation ended with Christmas Eve, and did not want the reminder of a Christmas without the kid lingering in a lonely apartment.<br /><br />In the retail and secular world, it's the run up to Christmas that matters, the shopping and the music, the decorating and the anticipation. Once the gifts are unwrapped and the food is eaten and the in-laws go home, Christmas is over. Time to take the tree down, put the Christmas music away, and figure out how to use up the rest of the turkey.<br /><br />But in some Christian denominations, including the Episcopal Church USA, the run up to Christmas is the four weeks of Advent. Liturgically, it's about preparing for the coming of Jesus, not just historically but at the end of the world, whatever and whenever that may be. I personally find the whole "end times" concept problematic at best, but the practical side of it is essentially <span style="font-style: italic;">carpe diem</span>. If we don't mess things up too badly and don't get hit by too big an asteroid, and if Jesus doesn't decide to return when everything is mediocre as usual, then our species and our planet may survive for thousands more years. We as individuals, however, won't be there. It thus doesn't really matter at the individual level whether the world ends sooner or later, as long as you don't mess things up for everyone else. My high school boyfriend, <a linkindex="4" href="http://www.mavarin.com/dan.html">Dan Cheney</a> (no relation), was convinced by a <a linkindex="5" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Late,_Great_Planet_Earth">Hal Lindsey paperback</a> that the world would end in 1986. He was mistaken, but his personal world on Earth ended in 1978, courtesy of a drunk driver during Spring Break. My take-away from all this: we really don't know when the world will end (and Jesus said as much), and we don't know (in most cases) when our own lives will end. It therefore makes sense to prepare for all possibilities. It's like Gandhi said:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">“Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever.”</span> - <a linkindex="6" href="http://thinkexist.com/quotes/mahatma_gandhi/">Mahatma Gandhi</a><br /><br />So much for my mildly heretical take on Advent. But what comes next on the Church calendar? That would be Christmas. The observance starts the evening before, and runs through the Feast of the Holy Name (January 1, commemorating the christening of Jesus) and into Epiphany (January 6, commemorating the arrival of the Magi). The liturgical focus is on Jesus being revealed to the world - through the angels and the shepherds, those astrologers from the East (whose number is not given in the Bible, and who probably weren't kings), the people at the christening and John and Yahweh on the banks of the Jordan.<br /><br /><table style="width: auto;" align="center"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Ym-BTKht8w2zB-VE8aFRHg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/SVNrT715hQI/AAAAAAAAK_s/coXKn5pDaJ8/s800/smax00124.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From the Picasa photo album <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/Mavarin2/LifeAtStMichaelAndAllAngels?feat=embedwebsite">Life at St. Michael and All Angels</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br />So what am I supposed to do about it? In Western culture, you can't completely avoid the story of the birth of Jesus. It's almost become a stale cliche, and you certainly don't need me to tell you about it. The best I can hope for is to touch lightly on the subject here, and hope I'm not being too annoying. Oh, and there's one more thing I need to do. As Nancy reminds me, this is my year to back the St. Michael's Epiphany cake. Now, what did I do with that plastic thimble?<br /><br />What else should I be up to? At the moment, the mundane part of these additional days of Christmas involve using up the turkey and washing an endless supply of self-regenerating dirty dishes. There's also the ceremonial using of the gift cards and the purchase of additional gifts were missed in our austerity Christmas frugality. Gift cards from my godson's family and my friend Kevin got me most of the way to DVDs of <span style="font-style: italic;">Doctor Who: The Infinite Quest</span> and <span style="font-style: italic;">Prince Caspian</span> with all the extras, and I got John the calendars he needs for home and work, at the post-Christmas half-off price. Barnes and Noble completely let me down on books from my Amazon wishlist: no Scalzi hardcovers, no recent McCaffrey Pern book, no James Burke at all, no <span style="font-style: italic;">Doctor Who</span> books of any sort, no Patricia C. Wrede I didn't already have, no copies of L'Engle's last book (which I ordered online from another gift certificate) or the audio edition thereof. It's getting to where Amazon is the only place to get anything but current bestsellers or royalty-free classics.<br /><br />What does popular culture say this time is for? One goes back to the office, right? But I can't do that, being still unemployed after nearly four months. Yesterday I turned down my most pathetic lead yet, for a strictly temp job in a position (Accounts Payable) ranked below anything I've done recently, for less money than I was making before I had an accounting degree. And of course I felt guilty about it, but I've got to believe that something better will come along, not necessarily at the level I'm used to or better, but certainly better than <span style="font-style: italic;">that</span>. It's also time to make close-of-tax-year donations (we need to get the old cars hauled away - but then, we say that every year) and start thinking about New Year's resolutions.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a linkindex="7" href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/wm5yMrVuaEvo5JuetW1syA?authkey=jW59tqC91c0&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/SVpk0co65-I/AAAAAAAALJY/zZrOT1kfwZc/s800/DSC00277.JPG" /></a><br /></div><br />I guess for me, it's time to crack open the accounting books that just arrived UPS, and sign up for one of the online seminars I recently paid for. Jesus is here and Jesus is coming, and I don't know whether I have one day to live or another fifty. I'd better get moving, preparing for the possibilities.<br /><br />KarenKaren Funk Blocherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16860091802901743222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8865377.post-4720434097811882752008-12-07T23:38:00.006-07:002008-12-08T19:27:01.214-07:00Scenes from the Advent International Bazaar 2008As seen by my camera on Sunday after Mass:<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/OxXJnsMEskgFXunpijrnSA"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/STy-UKt0sWI/AAAAAAAAI0Y/l6B8IFkInTw/s800/advt09762.jpg" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Mayan textiles (I think)</span><br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/69ZIK9esEe4Frucus98Hsg"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/STy-Ul1tTkI/AAAAAAAAI0g/CAdUXfHbFow/s800/advt09765.jpg" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Busy shoppers in the Parish Center.</span><br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/48nSJQoeZXjYv8rJKgQZLA"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/STy-UpCNwSI/AAAAAAAAI0o/vQ3jVljvtE8/s800/advt09768.jpg" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Native American crafts.</span><br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/G1QxLQIrIrmzHbfCynd2_g"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/STy-U27qFXI/AAAAAAAAI0w/h0UflwLOXUU/s800/advt09770.jpg" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Crafts from Ten Thousand Villages.</span><br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Fwnpv4lrQRg0v8PkTlr5OQ"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/STzCLG63X-I/AAAAAAAAI1M/TB5td9ILqPU/s800/advt09779.jpg" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Native performers in the Labyrinth.</span><br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/uBUK-jixDX8RroRpmbzK9g"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/STy-VGWhDzI/AAAAAAAAI04/y6dJ5MapD0k/s800/advt09783.jpg" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Another Aztec Dancer arrives...</span><br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Q0TlUBP_BfT9c9cSyowG9Q"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/STy-Zn7m6wI/AAAAAAAAI1A/s-W28neTHoI/s800/advt09786.jpg" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">...and two more behind him, as Kevin looks on.</span></div>Karen Funk Blocherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16860091802901743222noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8865377.post-49849146875969011762008-12-02T11:14:00.002-07:002008-12-02T12:04:31.284-07:00Just Some PhotosNo deep words this time, just some photos I never got around to posting. Click on any photo to get to see a larger version in a small photo album of images from St. Michael's.<br /><br />Remember, if you are a St. Michael's parishioner, you are invited to submit your photos, poetry, prayers, opinions, essays, rants, announcements, fiction, etc. for inclusion here. I ask only that it be at least tentatively related to the church, faith, mission or ethics. You can email me at mavarin (at) aol.com, or give me your submission in person at any 10:15 AM or feastday Mass. - Karen<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/GOwoH3rL37WrSmC-67vEzg"><img style="width: 400px; height: 589px;" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/STWC_V0GEmI/AAAAAAAAH8U/nxue1lORakY/s400/stfr08898.jpg" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Feast of St. Francis 2008</span><br /></div><br /><table style="width: auto;" align="center"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/EjPsMuLhrycIpU4FKMQDjg"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/STWCrXEgygI/AAAAAAAAH7s/7AFlO4uxuKE/s400/txtl08971.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr style="font-style: italic;" align="center"><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px;">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/Mavarin2/StMichaelAllAngelsArts">St. Michael & All Angels Arts</a></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Textile show and sale, October 2008</span><br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/N1Tmr8FeZaPwaCFhqBdE_w"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/STWCrtKxvOI/AAAAAAAAH70/HXrHAoyvl24/s400/guat08977.jpg" /></a><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/86-P9njnmCsVTy1eT3ZDnA"><span style="display: block;" id="formatbar_Buttons"><span class="on down" style="display: block;" id="formatbar_JustifyCenter" title="Align Center" onmouseover="ButtonHoverOn(this);" onmouseout="ButtonHoverOff(this);" onmouseup="" onmousedown="CheckFormatting(event);FormatbarButton('richeditorframe', this, 11);ButtonMouseDown(this);"><img src="img/blank.gif" alt="Align Center" class="gl_align_center" border="0" /></span></span><img style="width: 400px; height: 532px;" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/STWCschYvgI/AAAAAAAAH8E/Z1MDzU8BOE4/s400/ess08968.jpg" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Episcopal School Sunday 2008</span><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/2NMFLsSrTtdmnJyoUZJ0bQ"><img style="width: 400px; height: 529px;" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/STWCsCjYLxI/AAAAAAAAH78/emB-0yKK-HI/s400/ess08969.jpg" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Episcopal School Sunday 2008</span><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Y9107m1oHrckxrb6GrYZDw"><img style="width: 400px; height: 531px;" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/STWCrVeoViI/AAAAAAAAH7k/qcifcC1Cmm4/s400/womb09607.jpg" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Pilgrim Womble</span>. This is the best I could get from a distance.<br /></div>Karen Funk Blocherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16860091802901743222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8865377.post-80358950442989586362008-03-27T23:14:00.001-07:002008-03-27T23:17:32.981-07:00Holy Week, Half-RememberedCross-posted from <a href="http://outmavarin.blogspot.com/2008/03/holy-week-half-remembered.html">the usual place</a>:<br /><br />The further I get from the end of Holy Week, the less I actually had to say about it. Nor can I fill an entry with photos I took of Holy Week this year. I didn't always have my camera with me, and was too busy being part of things to photograph them too. Well, heck, maybe that means I won't be too long-winded in covering the subject. (What are the chances?)<br /><br />For those of you who weren't raised in a denomination that celebrates it, I should explain that Holy Week is basically the week that leads up to Easter at the end of Lent. The Sunday before Easter is Palm Sunday. Then we've got three days of nothing special, followed by Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, Holy Saturday and of course Easter Sunday. I'm not here tonight to convince anyone of anything, just to explain what all that involves at the Episcopal Parish of St. Michael & All Angels, and what small part I played in all that this year.<br /><br /><p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5236/441/1600/palm0479.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5236/441/400/palm0479.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><i>Palm Sunday 2006</i><br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/R-tjyhbaGAI/AAAAAAAADIE/0Hx7dj9CjEI/s1600-h/palm01210.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/R-tjyhbaGAI/AAAAAAAADIE/0Hx7dj9CjEI/s400/palm01210.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182345515837822978" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Palm Sunday, 2007</span><br /></div><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Palm Sunday:</span> This commemorates Jesus' entry into Jerusalem, to the acclaim of the crowds. At St. Michael's this service always starts outside in one of the courtyards. The members of clergy celebrating the Mass (priests and subdeacon) wear an oddly shaped hat for some reason, on this day and no other. Palms are blessed and distributed, the Gospel is read, and we all process into the church, singing.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/R-tjzRbaGBI/AAAAAAAADIM/n-ixLhPjTc0/s1600-h/gdfr01285.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/R-tjzRbaGBI/AAAAAAAADIM/n-ixLhPjTc0/s400/gdfr01285.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182345528722724882" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Reading of the Passion (Good Friday 2007 I think)</span><br /></div><br />Once we're inside, it all gets darker. The church is decked out in penitential purple, and a second Gospel is sung, of the Passion (the arrest, trial, and death of Jesus). A member of the choir sings the part of Jesus, another one Pilate, another one Peter, another one the narrator, with the rest of the choir filling in the crowd and bit parts.<br /><br />This year I was either crucifer (carrying the cross) or torch (carrying one of the candles), I forget which. I kind of think I was crucifer. As you can see from the picture above, the cross gets covered up with a purple cloth at the end of Lent. I'm not quite sure why, but by Good Friday all the icons of the church are covered.<br /><br /><div align="center"><a onclick="window.open('http://mavarin.com/smaa/gfri0583c.jpg','popup','resizable=1,scrollbars=1',''); return false;" href="http://mavarin.com/smaa/maun0565.jpg"><img alt="the sacrament that almost made it." src="http://mavarin.com/smaa/maun0565.jpg" align="middle" border="2" height="447" width="400" /></a><br /><i>Washing of the Feet, 2006</i><br /></div><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Maundy Thursday:</span> I can never quite remember what "maundy" means. At St. Ann's in Manlius when I was growing up, it was called Holy Thursday. Either way, it commemorates the Last Supper, which immediately preceded Gethsemane and the arrest, and which is the basis for the sacrament of Holy Eucharist (Communion), the ritual transmogrification of bread and wine into the body and blood of Jesus.<br /><br />The Last Supper was basically a Seder, a ritually significant meal in the Jewish celebration of Passover, commemorating the meal of sacrificed lamb and unleavened bread eaten immediately prior to the flight from Egypt. At St. Michael's we have a lamb dinner in the Parish Center, punctuated by prayers and readings. I was a couple minutes late this year because of John's car breaking down at Oracle and Ina, almost a forty minute drive from our house. When I arrived, Father Smith was just starting the service. He waved me over to a table with a few empty seats, which happened to be the table where Kirk Smith, the Bishop of the Diocese of Arizona, was the honored guest. Before we ate and in between prayers and readings. Proscovia called me away to get my alb on (a one piece white robe), because I was going to be crucifer and would not have time later.<br /><br />Back at the table, Ila Abernathy suggested that we each give our names and a little-known fact about ourselves. I said that I blog every night, no matter what, which surprised no one. The Bishop <a href="http://arizonabishop.blogspot.com/">also has a blog</a>, it turns out, and mentioned that he's gotten nasty comments on it. When another parishioner mentioned as her fact that she was a fan of <span style="font-style: italic;">Doctor Who</span>(!), the Bishop impressed me by asking, "old series or new series?"<br /><br />After dinner, the Bishop and Father Smith went around washing the feet of the people who served the dinner at each table, following the example of Jesus washing the feet of his disciples in one of the Gospels. The other <span style="font-style: italic;">Doctor Who</span> fan and I had a good-natured discussion about which of us had the ugliest feet, each of us vying for that distinction but not providing visual evidence. The Bishop gave a little sermon, during which he mentioned having once gone through the motions of washing where a parishioner's feet would have been if he'd had any.<br /><br />Then I stood outside the Parish Center with Proscovia and the two torchers as everyone else processed past us into the church, singing <i>Shalom, O My Friends</i>. The Mass ended with the stripping of the altar and a haunting musical rendition of <i>Psalm 22</i>. I went back and forth several times between the sanctuary and the sacristy, carrying out cloths and other stuff from the three altars.<br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><a onclick="window.open('http://mavarin.com/smaa/gfri0583c.jpg','popup','resizable=1,scrollbars=1',''); return false;" href="http://mavarin.com/smaa/vigi0577.jpg"><img alt="the church around midnight." src="http://mavarin.com/smaa/vigi0577.jpg" align="middle" border="2" height="351" width="400" /></a><br /><i>Waiting up with Jesus: St. Michael's 11:30 PM (2006)</i></div><br />On Thursday night, overnight, the leftover Eucharist resides in a vessel at the Altar of Repose in the back of the church. People come to the church all night long, usually in pairs, to pray and wait up with Jesus, in commemoration of the night at Gethsemane, when Peter, John and James kept falling asleep while Jesus prayed. I had scheduled myself to do this at midnight, but I was blogging and very tired, and I forgot. First year in a long time I've missed doing it.<br /><br /><div align="center"><a onclick="window.open('http://mavarin.com/smaa/gfri0583c.jpg','popup','resizable=1,scrollbars=1',''); return false;" href="http://mavarin.com/smaa/gfri0583c.jpg"><img alt="close encounter" src="http://mavarin.com/smaa/gfri0583c.jpg" align="middle" border="2" height="471" width="400" /></a><br /><i>The only icon of Good Friday is not a comforting one (2006)</i></div><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Good Friday</span>. I was crucifer again, carrying the cloth-covered cross. The Passion was sung again, I think from a different Gospel. Then we lined up for the Veneration of the Cross. A five-foot crucifix was held up. First the clergy, and then we acolytes, and then the people came forward, one by one, to kiss the statue's feet, or just touch them; or to bow, or make the sign of the cross, or just pause and move on. After the veneration, the cross was laid on the steps at the edge of the sanctuary, and people lined up again, this time to receive "leftover" Communion. There is no Eucharistic Prayer on Good Friday. As the service ended the acolytes and celebrants "scattered" in disarray, as the apostles did all those years ago. And then I drove a friend home to the south side of town.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Easter Vigil:</span> Saturday night was Easter Vigil. In some churches it's held just before dawn on Easter Sunday, but St. Michael's does it the night before. It began around dusk, with a small fire in front of the church. I was torching, which is a bigger part of the Vigil than other services. The parishioners entered the darkened church, each carrying an unlit candle, or "taper." Father Ireland lit the huge Pascal Candle from the bonfire, and entered the church, where a young acolyte named John and I lit our oil-fed torches off the Pascal Candle. "The Light of Christ," Father Ireland chanted, three times, as he moved up the aisle, to be answered, "Thanks be to God." Between the three of us we provided fire to start the tapers in each pew.<br /><br />It's a very long service, perhaps the longest of the year, but seemed slightly less so this year. After several readings and chants, little John and I stood by as the Gospel was proclaimed, the story of the empty tomb and Jesus' first post-resurrection appearance. The church was lit and bells were rung, horns played a fanfare and the people sang. I had forgotten my bells, but I noticed later that Father Smith "rang" his jingling keys in the triumphant singing of <span style="font-style: italic;">Jesus Christ is Risen Today</span>. I followed his example, briefly.<br /><br /><div align="center"><a onclick="window.open('http://mavarin.com/smaa/gfri0583c.jpg','popup','resizable=1,scrollbars=1',''); return false;" href="http://mavarin.com/smaa/laby0567.jpg"><img alt="The labyrinth with the baptismal pool." src="http://mavarin.com/smaa/laby0567.jpg" align="middle" border="2" height="266" width="400" /></a><br /><i>The labyrinth, with the baptismal pool uncovered.</i></div><br />Easter Vigil at St. Michael's usually includes a baptism in the pool in the middle of the labyrinth. This year we baptized two kids from the parish day school, Paul and Anthony. People again lit their tapers off our torches. As the newly baptized went off to get into dry clothes, Father Smith led us in song. Then we were back inside for the rest of the Mass. And when all that was over, we had a "Break-Fast" of quiche and fruit and blintzes and punch (or champagne) in the Parish Center.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/R-tjzhbaGDI/AAAAAAAADIc/INAI4ZEhvuE/s1600-h/smaa05636.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 350px; height: 466px;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/R-tjzhbaGDI/AAAAAAAADIc/INAI4ZEhvuE/s400/smaa05636.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182345533017692210" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">These two rows of chairs are where I sit as an acolyte. 2008.</span></div><br />Many parishioners figure that after celebrating Easter Vigil, which is the first service of Easter itself, they don't need to show up yet again on Easter morning. But as with Thursday, Friday and Saturday, I was scheduled as an acolyte. I torched again. The church was filled with music and light and flowers, and with CEO (Christmas and Easter Only) people. And this time I actually took a picture or two.<br /><br />Wow, it's late. Good thing I slept for a few hours this evening. But I feel better now, because I'd kind of promised to write about Holy Week again, as I do every year. Good night!<br /><br />Karen <div class="post-footer"> <div class="post-footer-line post-footer-line-1"> <span class="post-author vcard"><br /></span><span class="post-comment-link"><a class="comment-link" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19010648&postID=8173102145709567944&isPopup=true" onclick="'javascript:window.open(this.href," toolbar="0,location=" statusbar="1,menubar=" scrollbars="yes,width=" height="450"></a> </span></div></div>Karen Funk Blocherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16860091802901743222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8865377.post-52894103801785299692008-03-15T22:48:00.005-07:002008-03-15T23:22:06.786-07:00Knitting a Prayer Shawl<div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/R9y6vbIT-_I/AAAAAAAADBo/aYNyxZW4XZY/s1600-h/shwl2587s.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/R9y6vbIT-_I/AAAAAAAADBo/aYNyxZW4XZY/s400/shwl2587s.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178218995468467186" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Knit. Knit. Knit.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Purl. Purl. Purl.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">It's a prayer shawl.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">I should be praying, but I have to watch each stitch,</span><br /></span><blockquote style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><span style="font-size:130%;"> and count them as I go.<br /></span></blockquote><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">How can I pray as well?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Knit. Knit. Knit.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Purl--oops, don't slide off too soon. Purl. Purl.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Every day two rows, fifty-seven stitches.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Concentrate.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Dear God, help me to finish this.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Stitch by stitch, row by row,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Carefully, Fearfully.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Knit. Knit. Knit.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Purl. Purl. Purl.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">It will be thick and fluffy.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Warm, too.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Holey, sort of, where the purls succeed the knits.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Should I be praying for the one who'll get this shawl,</span><br /></span><blockquote style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><span style="font-size:130%;">who'll need the warmth and comfort of it?</span></blockquote><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">I wonder if she'll sit, enwrapped and quiet,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">And hear a distant echo, whispering</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Knit. Knit. Knit.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Purl. Purl. Purl.</span><br /><br /></span><blockquote style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"><span style="font-size:130%;"> by Lucy Rasmus</span></blockquote><br /></div>Karen Funk Blocherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16860091802901743222noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8865377.post-68247492974608411772008-03-09T04:36:00.004-07:002008-03-09T13:13:13.397-07:00Alan Schultz and the Spark of Divine FireCrossposted from Outpost Mâvarin, as usual: <a href="http://outmavarin.blogspot.com/2008/03/who-is-this-guy-recital-review.html">Who Is This Guy? A Recital Review</a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><img alt="This is the part that can be seen from the church. But not at this angle!" src="http://mavarin.com/smaa/orgn1205.jpg" width="400" /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">The antiphonal section of the organ, May 2005</span></div><br />A friend of mine from church took me out to dinner this evening, followed by a pipe organ recital by Alan Schultz in honor of the 50th Anniversary of St. Michael & All Angels Day School. Mr. Schultz (as his former students call him) or Alan (as longtime parishioners call him) recently retired from the school after teaching there for over four decades. I know him mostly as the substitute organist who occasionally plays at the 10 AM mass - not just Bach and such, but his own sacred classical works as well.<br /><br />Tonight he started us off with <span style="font-style: italic;">Fantasy in G</span> by J.S. Bach, turning much of it into a call and response between the main section of pipes behind the sanctuary in the front of the church and the antiphonal pipes above the back door. He said it was supposed to represent sets of angels singing to each other. It was interesting to hear, and made more use of the organ's capabilities than the average Sunday hymn.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://smallangelstucson.org/alan05469.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://smallangelstucson.org/alan05469.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Mr. Schultz introduces a composition.</span><br /></div><br />Next came the premiere performance of Schultz's <span style="font-style: italic;">Psalmist Songs</span>, "a song cycle for mezzo, English horn and organ." This was based on seven psalms (1, 121, 31, 45, 103, 133 and 126) sung by mezzo-soprano Korby Myrick, accompanied by Alan on organ and Kay Trondsen on English Horn. One of the psalms reminded me strongly of the L'Engle novel <span style="font-style: italic;">The Moon By Night</span>, which quotes from it extensively.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://smallangelstucson.org/alan05470.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://smallangelstucson.org/alan05470.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Mr. Schultz plays a fugue.</span><br /></div><br />Alan finished the recital with seven selections from his <span style="font-style: italic;">Twenty-four Preludes and Fugues in All Keys for Organ</span>, which was also being premiered. He explained that in Bach's day, an innovation in the way instruments were tuned made certain keys, which sounded awful before, usable for the first time. Bach eventually composed two sets of Preludes and Fugues to cover each of the twelve major and twelve minor keys. Schultz has composed one set. He explained all this, and a little bit about what a prelude is and what a fugue is. I didn't really quite catch on what exactly defines each of this musical forms, but I gather that the fugue part developed from the canon, or round, which in turn arose naturally in medieval times from people not starting a chant at quite the same time. At one point Alan demonstrated the form by having the audience sing <span style="font-style: italic;">Row, Row Row Your Boat</span>. These introductions reminded me a little of Leonard Bernstein's<span style="font-style: italic;"> Concerts for Young People</span> when I was a kid. He ended the performance by having us sing a particular hymn that led directly into his <span style="font-style: italic;">Fantasy, Fugue and Variation on "Divinum Mysterium" in E-flat major</span>.<br /><br />Before and after the recital there were prayers from Father Smith and testimonial speeches from several people associated with the school and its students. I had vaguely gathered that Alan taught English as well as music, but was surprised to learn that this was perhaps the most important part of his legacy at St. Michael's Day School. His eighth grade students learned to write research papers, something I wasn't exposed to until my senior year in high school. One speaker credited him with turning his students into "grammar police," and a former student of his joked that he tries "to never split...I mean, never to split infinitives" because of Mr. Schultz. The student's parents said they needed a dictionary to look up words in Mr. Schultz's report card evaluations, and the father, a professor, said he has higher standards for papers from former St. Michael's students because of Mr. Schultz. The headmaster talked about Schultz joking about buying a supermarket just so that the express checkout would allow "10 items or <span style="font-style: italic;">fewer</span>." He sounds like my kind of guy!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://smallangelstucson.org/rece05476.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://smallangelstucson.org/rece05476.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Newspaper photos from his career adorn a centerpiece.</span><br /></div><br />It turns out this man I've seen around the parish for a decade, and occasionally heard play, is a bit of a renaissance man. Today's program calls him a "composer, teacher, conductor, organist, harpsichordist and author." He was music director of the Southern Arizona Symphony Orchestra for 15 seasons, and he's a former director of the Tucson Masterworks Chorale. He's written a book on teaching organ, had several recordings released, and has had both music and poetry published. Wow! And to think he was basically "just zis guy" to me until tonight.<br /><br />Afterward at the reception, I tried to express my appreciation upon learning more about him, especially the English teacher bits. I somewhat nonsensically compared the recital to "a cross between Leonard Bernstein's Concerts for Young People and the writing of Madeleine L'Engle," a compliment he accepted graciously. To be honest, I'm a bit of a Philistine with respect to classical music; I do like it, including Schultz's own contributions to the genre, but not enough to seek it out or make an effort to learn more about it. Still, even my relatively untrained ear can tell that his music is creative, ambitious, and well-executed.<br /><br />I remarked to my friend before the recital that St. Michael's can be represented by a big Venn diagram, with overlapping populations of students, faculty, staff, choir, parishioners who normally attend each of the three Sunday masses and thus seldom meet each other, the social concerns people, the Altar Guild people and ECW. There was a good selection from each of those groups there tonight, including one writer and former journalist I'd like to get to know better.<br /><br />Given this revelation about someone I took for granted, I can't help but wonder: if this man I see each week at the 10 AM mass can be as accomplished and interesting as Alan Schultz, what about all the other people behind those familiar faces? I overheard one woman this evening mentioning that she was a nurse in Vietnam. Another parishioner is an expert on Byzantine art. We have engineers and astronomers, mathematicians and professors, photographers and who knows what else, some retired, some still working. What fascinating biographies do these people have, unknown by a shy fellow parishioner who barely scratches the surface of their acquaintance?<br /><br />But maybe it's not important that I get to know each person in depth, learn all about their careers and their hobbies, their trips to Spain, their military careers, and their stories in major newspapers. Maybe it's enough to know and to remember that they're all people, mostly intelligent, talented people, each making unique contributions to the world and its people, each with his or her own "spark of divine fire." Occasionally, if I pay attention, I may even see them glow.<br /><br />KarenKaren Funk Blocherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16860091802901743222noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8865377.post-23422443300958583052008-03-05T01:24:00.002-07:002008-03-05T01:27:23.006-07:00Is It Lent Yet?Cross-posted, as usual, from <span style="font-style: italic;">Outpost Mâvarin</span>:<br /><br />Thanks for the tip, Julie! <a href="http://www.seamonkey-project.org/releases/">SeaMonkey</a>, which I looked into once before without finding any indication that it had an HTML editor, does indeed have a slightly updated version of the old Netscape Composer. It's not perfect; a couple of times it froze up and would not let me select or unselect anything, and when I installed it a Windows Compatibility Assistant wanted to do something or other. Maybe I should have let it. And it didn't show the Hipcast play bar, which made me a little nervous about whether I managed to keep the code in the <a href="http://smallangelstucson.org/sermons.html">sermons page</a> as I turned blog entries into a nice table. But it did work. The page has a bunch of new sermon links on it, and it looks nicer than before because I ran them side by side this time, two sermons across instead of a narrow bar down the middle of the page.<br /><br />I was so encouraged that I took care of another page on the St. Michael's web site that's been languishing since last summer: the <a href="http://smallangelstucson.org/seasons.html">Seasons</a> page.<br /><br />This used to a a somewhat complex and repetitive series of pages showing what church season we're currently in, which one preceded it and which one is next. I had them on my hard drive with names like seasonsepi.html and seasonslent2.html. In theory as each one came around, I'd rename that file as seasons.html and upload it. Only I hardly ever got around to actually doing that!<br /><br /><b><span style=";font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:100%;" ><img style="width: 147px; height: 140px;" alt="Candlemas" src="http://smallangelstucson.org/candlemas.gif" align="left" hspace="10" /></span></b>So tonight I deleted the bars with the previous, now and next seasons, and consolidated the rest into one master table showing all the seasons for the year, with major feastdays within each. Well, some of them, anyway. I had enough clipart to stick an appropriate gif or jpg in each season's cell. Much better! Only problem was that when I checked it just now, Firefox was reading a clear and correct html link to <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">http://smallangelstucson.org/vestmts.jpg</span> as the nonsensical <span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">http://smallangelstucson.org/smallangelstucson.org/vestmts.jpg</span>, and therefore not displaying the picture. I specified actual size and supplied alternate text for the two affected images, and that cleared up the problem. Weird.<br /><br /><p style="text-align: center;"><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman,Times,serif;font-size:180%;" ><b><img style="width: 400px;" vestments="" for="" all="" seasons="" src="http://smallangelstucson.org/vestmts.jpg" /></b></span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Silly Firefox! There was nothing wrong with my </span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">link to this image of vestments for all seasons.</span><br /></div><br />It still needs tweaking. There must be a church calendar widget somewhere that will tell people that if today is March 5, 2008, then we're in Lent. That will be more informative than either my rotating season pages or the new combined one. And I can probably get a photo of St. Michael's itself to illustrate each season, either instead of or in addition to the clip art.<br /><br />But not tonight!<br /><br />KarenKaren Funk Blocherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16860091802901743222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8865377.post-19677867557873965362008-03-04T01:45:00.003-07:002008-03-04T01:50:11.825-07:00Looking for StarfishCrossposted from <a href="http://outmavarin.blogspot.com/2008/03/looking-for-starfish.html">Outpost Mâvarin</a>:<br /><br />Have you noticed that when you feel guilty about not doing something, it sometimes makes you want to continue to avoid doing it? I'm not quite as bad about such things as I was in my misspent youth; back in high school I was a master procrastinator, if not quite a world class one. But even now I have a tendency to put off doing certain things, and once I start, I continue to put them off.<br /><br />I say all this by way of introducing the fact that I just updated the <a href="http://smaa.blogspot.com/">St. Michael's news blog</a> for the first time in three weeks. It's not a hard task; the church sends me the church bulletin weekly as a Word file. All I have to do is paste and format and proofread. But it takes about half an hour, usually, and I put it off, rationalizing that the announcements don't actually change very much from one week to the next, and stuff is almost always announced a few weeks ahead. It doesn't make it right, though. There may well be something in any given week that should be posted promptly.<br /><br />One of the reasons I've become so avoidy about it is that I'm supposed to be solving the sermon problem. It used to be that I could paste the sermon podcasts onto the sermons web page, spend about two hours formatting and tweaking, and then it would be done. It would work. But that was on the old computer, when I had Netscape Composer. That doesn't seem to be available online anymore; at least, I haven't found it. I've tried a few substitutes, including Open Office, only to see my web pages ruined as the program automatically updates all the links to point to my hard drive instead of the web. I can't imagine how that would be useful to anyone, let alone the default setting. And so far I haven't found a way to make it stop doing that.<br /><br />Not that I've tried in the last two months. Not at all. Not once. I was so frustrated the last time I did try that I'm having trouble making myself tackle the problem again. Even if I get the links to remain static, it will still be an awful lot of work.<br /><br />But for tonight I'm going to call the sermon posting tomorrow's problem, and hope that turns out to be a true statement. At least I got the announcements posted. I spent an hour on it, largely because I wanted a picture of a starfish.<br /><br />That's right. A picture of a starfish.<br /><br />It's kind of a parable, you see. The story apparently comes from a writer named Loren Eiseley, according to the <a href="http://www.starfishmission.org/">Operation Starfish</a> web site. (The names Project Starfish and Operation Starfish seem to be interchangeable.) The gist of it is that a man comes across a kid throwing stranded starfish back into the ocean so they won't die. The man points out that there are a gazillion starfish on the beach, all up and down the shoreline. The kid can't possibly make a difference. The kid throws another starfish into the sea, and says, "I made a difference to that one."<br /><br />The idea, of course, is that you or I cannot personally solve world hunger, stop the spread of AIDS, end homelessness, etc. A single person, or even a whole parish or a whole denomination, or a whole country, can't completely solve any one of these problems. But we can help one person, or contribute to helping one person, or one family. This concept seems to be powerful enough to have inspired numerous charity efforts with the word Starfish in the title, for a number of different causes.<br /><br />So what St. Michael's is doing is collecting small donations in a basket, to build a house for someone in Haiti, one of the "poorest of the poor" countries. If you work it right, with volunteers and local materials and labor, money goes a lot farther in a poor country than it does here. Raising enough money for a house is a fairly tall order for a medium-sized parish, but eminently doable. Announcing the effort in the church news blog should help a bit, especially if there's a nice copyright-free starfish picture there (such as one from a government website) to catch the eye long enough to get people reading the accompanying text.<br /><br />No, I haven't dropped even a dollar in the Project Starfish basket. Yet. I will contribute, but i haven't gotten around to it.<br /><br />But I did find a starfish picture.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/R8z_xU9jICI/AAAAAAAAC8w/zY-9KQ5W9XM/s1600-h/intrvw_starfish_600.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/R8z_xU9jICI/AAAAAAAAC8w/zY-9KQ5W9XM/s400/intrvw_starfish_600.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173791294847393826" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-style: italic;">Starfish photo from </span><a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://oceanexplorer.noaa.gov/explorations/">http://</a></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 128, 0); font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" ><a href="http://oceanexplorer.noaa.gov/explorations/">oceanexplorer.noaa.gov/</a><wbr><a href="http://oceanexplorer.noaa.gov/explorations/">explorations/</a>.</span><br /><br />Karen<p></p>Karen Funk Blocherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16860091802901743222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8865377.post-10778578926544827332008-02-07T00:45:00.000-07:002008-02-07T00:56:38.743-07:00Is It a Sin to Eat Steamed Sparrowgrass?Crossposted from <span style="font-style: italic;">Outpost Mâvarin<a href="http://outmavarin.blogspot.com/"></a></span>:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/R6qi2ooWn9I/AAAAAAAACug/Te3oUHHXWzE/s1600-h/dust05125.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/R6qi2ooWn9I/AAAAAAAACug/Te3oUHHXWzE/s400/dust05125.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164118982237003730" border="0" /></a><br />There's a joke my atheist husband John does every year, on the first Wednesday after the first full moon after the vernal equinox, or whatever the arcane calculation is. When I get home from Ash Wednesday Mass, he tells me there's a smudge on my forehead, and makes to wipe it off for me. First it was funny; then it got annoying. Now it's a tradition. This year he was already in bed by the time I got home from Mass, so it's perhaps just as well that he got the joke in Tuesday afternoon, over the phone in anticipation.<br /><br />I got to serve at Mass tonight, carrying the cross in for a change. I used to do that more often than not, but then a nice man named Alex was trained as crucifer. Since that's the task he knows the best, he gets to do it if he's there, and I'm a "torch" (candle bearer) instead. But tonight I was scheduled to do it. Hooray!<br /><br />In fact I ended up doing three tasks as an acolyte. It's become standard procedure now for the crucifer to torch during the Eucharistic Prayer whenever we're shorthanded, which seems to be almost always. And Father Smith asked me to take the second chalice tonight and serve communion with him on one side of the aisle. I'd only done it once before, served all of two people and messed up one of them. But tonight it was more like forty or fifty people. One person spilled, but that was the only disaster. It wasn't my fault, that one, honest!<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/R6qi24oWn-I/AAAAAAAACuo/HyIeVRaYal8/s1600-h/aspe05126.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/R6qi24oWn-I/AAAAAAAACuo/HyIeVRaYal8/s400/aspe05126.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164118986531971042" border="0" /></a>Still, when the time comes for a proper Lenten observance, especially a Lenten fast, I'm anything but a paragon. Just thinking about fasting makes my digestive system start torturing me, until I have to eat something just to get rid of the pain. Sometimes I manage to hold it in check with Mylanta and crackers or something of the sort (which is still cheating), but this year I didn't even really try. Well, I sort of tried, but failed utterly. See, my company fed us breakfast (which included sausage or bacon), and later fed us lunch if we presented a ticket, all as part of the Chicken Something event. It seemed silly to turn down free chicken, potato salad and a brownie, so I didn't.<br /><br />But aside from a 100-calorie pack of Sun Chips, I held off eating again until after church. My plan was to go for two filet from McDonald's. I was kind of counting on it. But there was construction surrounding my local McDonald's, and I didn't want to drive over the metal whatever-it-was blocking the driveway. So I "settled" for shrimp at Popeye's. Their new butterfly shrimp is hardly bigger than their popcorn shrimp, and half dough. It wasn't bad, but I'd have preferred the rectangles of processed fish on a bun across the street.<br /><br />And I was still hungry. I managed to leave Popeye's without buying a little fried apple pie, but at home I gave in and ate something else. John and I recently discovered steam-in bags of vegetables, so I had a bag of asparagus. Was that a sin? So far, this doesn't look to be the Lent in which I get my eating under control. Then again, it's only just started.<br /><br />That's not really what Lent is for anyway. Doing something good is as valid a response as giving something up, perhaps better, and it's supposed to be something you do for God, not your waistline. And if I'd actually done anything good, I wouldn't be bragging about it. Jesus and Father Smith both talked about doing the fasting and good works in secret. Seeing as how I failed to do it, though, I figure it's fair game to talk about it, and revive this disused church blog while I'm at it.<br /><br />May your Lent be secretly successful, as we prepare for an early Easter.<br /><br />Karen<br /><p></p>Karen Funk Blocherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16860091802901743222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8865377.post-30216310949536992012007-12-25T04:42:00.001-07:002008-03-05T01:36:44.003-07:00Silent NightBELATEDLY cross-posted from the Outpost:<br /><br /><h2 class="date-header">Tuesday, December 25, 2007</h2> <a name="7754757452643337831"></a> <h3 class="post-title entry-title"> <a href="http://outmavarin.blogspot.com/2007/12/silent-night.html">Silent Night</a> </h3> <div class="post-body entry-content"> <p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/R3DtSpChxoI/AAAAAAAACeU/BeV2owHzk84/s1600-h/xmas04424.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/R3DtSpChxoI/AAAAAAAACeU/BeV2owHzk84/s400/xmas04424.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5147875278594360962" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/R3DtSpChxnI/AAAAAAAACeM/gcvr6k-kZG0/s1600-h/xmas04396.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/R3DtSpChxnI/AAAAAAAACeM/gcvr6k-kZG0/s400/xmas04396.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5147875278594360946" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/R3DtS5ChxqI/AAAAAAAACek/mB3GKO3hj7Q/s1600-h/chor04397.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/R3DtS5ChxqI/AAAAAAAACek/mB3GKO3hj7Q/s400/chor04397.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5147875282889328290" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/R3DtSZChxmI/AAAAAAAACeE/uFnJWWTsGqE/s1600-h/xmas04393.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 356px; height: 450px;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/R3DtSZChxmI/AAAAAAAACeE/uFnJWWTsGqE/s400/xmas04393.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5147875274299393634" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/R3DtS5ChxpI/AAAAAAAACec/uGi49-pMotg/s1600-h/xtre04428.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 326px; height: 434px;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/R3DtS5ChxpI/AAAAAAAACec/uGi49-pMotg/s400/xtre04428.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5147875282889328274" border="0" /></a></p> </div>Karen Funk Blocherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16860091802901743222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8865377.post-31078896465863979952007-10-08T03:12:00.002-07:002008-03-05T01:40:45.127-07:00Episcopal PetsBelatedly cross-posted from the Outpost:<br /><a href="http://outmavarin.blogspot.com/2007/10/episcopal-pups-and-random-facts.html">Episcopal Pups and Random Facts</a><br /><br /><p>Here, as promised, are some of the 96 photos I took for the Feast of St. Francis at St. Michael's today. The actual feast day was Thursday, but the parish always transfers it to the nearest Sunday, and invites us to bring in our pets to be blessed.<br /></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/RwoE05Z3SHI/AAAAAAAAB98/hvLSc0J3pkw/s1600-h/stfr03541.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/RwoE05Z3SHI/AAAAAAAAB98/hvLSc0J3pkw/s400/stfr03541.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118909233269000306" border="0" /></a>The liturgy began outside in front of the church. Dog owners, the choir and others staked out chairs and benches.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/RwoE1JZ3SII/AAAAAAAAB-E/x93kHe9qMuw/s1600-h/stfr03530.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/RwoE1JZ3SII/AAAAAAAAB-E/x93kHe9qMuw/s400/stfr03530.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118909237563967618" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;"> It's a very doggy parish.</span><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/RwoE1JZ3SJI/AAAAAAAAB-M/hk_6noP0wKA/s1600-h/stfr03566.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/RwoE1JZ3SJI/AAAAAAAAB-M/hk_6noP0wKA/s400/stfr03566.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118909237563967634" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">The only cat I saw receives his blessing.</span><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/RwoE1ZZ3SKI/AAAAAAAAB-U/oibkYTSFFw0/s1600-h/stfr03580.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/RwoE1ZZ3SKI/AAAAAAAAB-U/oibkYTSFFw0/s400/stfr03580.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118909241858934946" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Lining up for a blessing<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/RwoJuJZ3SLI/AAAAAAAAB-c/FRIv_xTcDOo/s1600-h/stfr03600.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/RwoJuJZ3SLI/AAAAAAAAB-c/FRIv_xTcDOo/s400/stfr03600.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118914614863022258" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">A gerbil and a tarantula await their turns.</span><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/RwoE0pZ3SGI/AAAAAAAAB90/M6_c7LgWywI/s1600-h/tuff03612.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HaLsPP50p1k/RwoE0pZ3SGI/AAAAAAAAB90/M6_c7LgWywI/s400/tuff03612.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118909228974032994" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Tuffy in church.</span><br /></div><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span>KarenKaren Funk Blocherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16860091802901743222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8865377.post-1153889336390385922006-07-25T21:48:00.000-07:002006-07-25T21:48:56.400-07:00Behold The Quilt!<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 100%;"><b><br /></b></span><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5236/441/1600/qult1639.jpg"><img alt="da quilt" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5236/441/400/qult1639.jpg" border="0" hspace="20" vspace="10" width="410" /></a><br /></div><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 100%;"><b><br />St. Michael's Quilters and Knitters have a raffle</b> - Our first quilt is finished, and raffle tickets are available at $2.00 each. Please see Dolores Braren for raffle tickets. </span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5236/441/1600/qult1643.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5236/441/400/qult1643.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Karen Funk Blocherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16860091802901743222noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8865377.post-1150070524505369292006-06-11T16:46:00.000-07:002006-06-11T17:12:17.586-07:00Trinity Sunday in the Land of MâvarinReprinted from my personal blog:<br /><br /><i style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"><u><b><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;"><a href="http://journals.aol.com/aurielalata/CIWTheOtherInvisible/entries/853">Writer's Weekly Question #19</a>:<br /></span></span></b></u></i><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);">We are a society that is literally besieged by historical, political, social, and even religious upheaval and decisions due to our connection to an information driven world. Do these things impact our creative process and do our opinions concerning various historical, political, social, and religious questions show up in our products (this can be writing, or art, or other things that involve creative process)? If so, how?</span><br /></span></span><br />Well, the short answer is, "Of course it does." Even if we're writing an historical novel, a romance, science fiction or (as in my case) fantasy, we can't really help being influenced by the world around us, along with literature, art, music, family, and personal experience. But not so fast. That doesn't always mean that our stories are full of GWB and a controversial war, gay marriage and the latest pope. Sometimes the stories have to do with showing a better society, or a worse one, rather than the one we've actually got. Some things we may prefer to ignore and leave out, in the hope that the book will be about things more eternal than topical.<br /><br />Even if some portion of the work is informed by current events, that may not be the most important thing about the story - and it probably shouldn't be. Sure, old Will Shakespeare had contemporary influences and constraints, but that's not why his plays are still performed. Ambition, politics, guilt, love, struggles between classes and religions, cultures and families... all that stuff is still with us. It transcends the particulars of Elizabethan England, not to mention the nominal setting of each play. Still, the contemporary issues of the day find their way in there, too, often interacting with ageless questions and eternal verities. And when a writer does include a reference to a current controversy, it's often done on the sly, so that a discerning person can appreciate it, and others can ignore it or be oblivious to it. That way, there's a certain level of plausible deniability, and the political, social or religious commentary doesn't stop the story dead in its tracks.<br /><br />How does all this apply to me personally? You folks know, because I mention it rather frequently, that writing about religion or politics always makes me nervous. I have my own opinions on these subjects, and sometimes I even state outright what they are. But I also have strong feelings about tolerance and pluralism, and respecting the right of others to an informed opinion that doesn't match my own. All this stuff comes together in my personal philosophy. The greatest cause of evil in this world is the tendency to divide the world into Us and Them, and treat Them as undeserving of the same respect, tolerance, compassion and human rights that we accord to Us. This is the attitude that lies behind wars and terrorism, religious intolerance, sexual politics, the rich lining their nests at the expense of the poor, even most crime. So no, I don't talk all that much about Jesus or Dick Cheney, Israel or Ireland, Iran or Iraq. But Us and Them, well, I talk about that rather a lot. It informs and transcends all the specific issues that pop up from day to day.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://mavarin.com/RaniFost5.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://mavarin.com/ranifost7a.jpg" alt="Rani Fost, alienated hero" border="0" /></a>Now, let's talk about Mâvarin. My first novel, <span style="font-style: italic;">Heirs of Mâvarin</span>, is mostly about three specific characters, dealing with their own internal struggles while on their way to do things that affect the whole country. Religion exists basically in the background, and the politics have no contemporay equivalents that I'm aware of. Yet there's still a little social commentary buried in there, not because I deliberately put it in, but because it's part of the human condition. Rani, my most alienated (and ultimately most heroic) character, is black. That doesn't seem to have made him too much of an outsider or second class citizen growing up, but the fact that he grew up without a father is another alienating factor. It marks him as different, as much as his skin did in a nearly all-white community. Then when he becomes a tengrem (basically a monster), he's the ultimate outsider, alienated from humanity itself, and subject to being hunted down and killed. The fact that he is very much a "Them," even an "It," makes it more significant that Del sees past all that, and knows Rani is still his friend, still deserving of his compassion, affection and protection. At the same time, two "Them" groups that most people distrust, the tengremen (well, some of them) and the selmûnen, work together to help overthrow an illegal and oppressive government in favor of the rightful one. (This is the book that's currently awaiting a reply from a major publisher.)<br /><br />Then in the second novel, <span style="font-style: italic;">Mages of Mâvarin</span>, comparative religion becomes a major theme driving parts of the story. And here is where author Karen gets nervous. Will people understand what I'm talking about, and what I'm not? Some will, certainly. But for others, the people who think that any mention of magic is Satanic, and any religion that doesn't mention Jesus is sending its practitioners straight to Hell, the books are going to be problematic even before my character Fabi gets to Hemlarbeth. What will they make of this?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://mavarin.com/BakuDener.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 300px;" src="http://mavarin.com/BakuDener.jpg" alt="Baku Dener, compassionate atheist" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;"> Fabi looked up through the rain at the jagged, snow-capped peaks of the Câlaren, stark holy places that reached far above the pillars of cloud. Even this late in the day, even in this weather, the snow gleamed as if with a light of its own.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;"> “Impressive, aren’t they?” Baku said. “I can almost understand why the superstitious might believe that the Câlaren are the home of the gods on Earth. The tallest mountains in Mâvarin would be that much closer to the Afterworld, if there were an Afterworld.”<br /><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;"> “Here we go again,” Bora said. “Don’t encourage him, Fabi.” She had obviously heard it all before.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;"> “You don’t believe in the Gods?”<br /><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;"> “I believe that a human girl named Mâshela was probably born in a cave halfway up the middle peak. She wasn’t the Daughter of Lokvanishmû, though, because there never was a Lokvanishmû.”<br /><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;"> “I’m amazed. You don’t believe in the Gods, and yet here we are, about to trade with the priests of the Holy Town.”<br /><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;"> “That’s business. Anyway, most of the priests in this town are pretty good people, unlike some of the ones I’ve met elsewhere. They’re just self-deluded, that’s all.”<br /><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;"> Fabi shook his head. “Call me deluded too, then, because I believe in the Gods as well. I’d rather not argue about it, though.”</span><br /><br />Fabi and his friends, atheist Baku and his wife Bora, proceed to visit four churches in Hemlarbeth over the next couple of days. The Temple of Lokvanishmû, the Father and Creator, mostly contains people with a military or authoritarian sensibility. The Church of Mâshela, the Daughter of God, the Redeemer, has an underground hospital on site. The Church of Thâle, the Spirit of Wisdom who takes many forms, is heavily attended by artists, selmûnen and same-sex couples, people who aren't in the mainstream of society but contribute to it nonetheless. Last of all, off by itself is the little Church of the One, attended by more selmûnen and other mystics, people who have come to believe that the other three gods are really part of One God after all. And visiting all these places, helping the faithful with his honest and fair dealing, is Baku, a compassionate atheist who later is heroically generous to villages devasted by xenophobic massacres.<br /><br />I fully expect that some people, when this book is published, will think I'm promulgating some kind of evil paganism. Others will recognize the Trinity, but find it an abomination because the names are all wrong, Mâvarin's incarnation of the Son is a woman, and homosexuals and even atheists are tolerated and respected by the faithful. Nevertheless, I have to have it in there, this old and current debate about the Trinity, the role of religion in other worlds, and the need for religious tolerance. I have a whole, hugely defensive disclaimer already written, trying to explain that the books are not anti-Christian, and that while they don't endorse a specific sect and should not be mapped to the real world as exact equivalents, they do represent my beliefs to some extent. I wouldn't go so far as to say that Fabi, Harisi and Shela are all Episcopalians, but they aren't far off.<br /><br />Let those with ears to hear, hear! As for the rest, if they don't try to get the books banned, I'll be very pleased.<br /><br />And no, there's no George W. Bush figure in that book, either.<br /><br />I was thinking about all this today during Father Smith's sermon for Trinity Sunday. Sometimes it seems as though we think of the God of Moses and Jesus of Nazareth as two entirely separate Gods, and barely think of the Holy Spirit at all. It's not really surprising. The concept of a Triune God is a rather tricky one, Jesus is offstage for the whole of the Old Testament, and the Holy Spirit doesn't have a lot of dialogue in the Bible, despite having inspired most of it.<br /><br />If we really pay attention, though, we see that all three aspects of the one God were there all along.<br /><br />Karen<br /><br /><span class="technoratitags">Technorati Tags: <a href="http://www.technorati.com/tag/Mavarin" rel="tag">Mâvarin</a>, <a href="http://www.technorati.com/tag/writing" rel="tag">Writing</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tag/Episcopal" rel="tag">Episcopal</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tag/Religion" rel="tag">Religion</a></span>Karen Funk Blocherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16860091802901743222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8865377.post-1145264949861364092006-04-17T02:05:00.000-07:002006-04-17T09:04:40.406-07:00Easter ConclusionsCross-posted from <a href="http://outmavarin.blogspot.com/2006/04/easter-conclusions.html"><i>Outpost Mâvarin</i></a>:<br /><br />Thanks to everyone who left comments over the past 24 hours. Most of them were very much appreciated, and the remaining one upset and challenged me. Tonight I'm going to share five more pictures from Easter Day itself, and a few last thoughts before I go back into lurker mode on the subject of religion.<br /><div class="post-body"><p>I figured out today the relationship between the people who nearly fill the church for the Easter Vigil on Saturday night and the crowd that does fill the church on Easter Sunday. On a Venn diagram they would overlap, about half of of the population occupying both circles. The Vigil crowd consists mostly of the "hardcore" St. Michael's parishioners, the people who attend most of the major holy days, who know that they're signing on for a very long Mass, but do it because they know how special it is, and truly want to be there. About half of them also show up on Easter morning. The other half, knowing that they've already attended one Easter service, leave the Sunday Mass to the remaining regulars, the semi-regulars, and what Father Douglas once called the CEOs - Christmas and Easter Only.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5236/441/1600/estr0684a.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5236/441/400/estr0684a.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><div align="center"><i>Toni Sue, our verger, greets my friend Eva,<br />who will be 101 years old in May.</i><br /></div><br />I was scheduled to be crucifer today, and besides, I'd promised to give Eva a ride to church. No Easter morning lie-in for me! I don't regret it, even though I only had four hours of sleep last night. Some years the Easter morning Mass is almost a rerun, but not this year. It was a different sermon, and there was different music: a little Bach, and little Beethoven, and (mostly) Mozart! Organist and choir director Jane Haman conducted not just the choir, which tends to swell in size for holiday programs, but also what I guess might be called a chamber orchestra: strings, brass and timpani.<br /><br /><div align="center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5236/441/1600/estr0681.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5236/441/400/estr0681.jpg" border="0" /></a><i>Jane conducts the choir and guest musicians.</i><br /></div><br />Easter morning is typically when babies are baptized, as opposed to older children and adults. This morning there was a toddler and a kindergartener. The toddler sucked her pacifier and nodded in preparation for each dousing at the baptismal font - not as if trying to avoid it, but as if cooperating. I make no claims that the little girl had a clue what was going on, but she didn't cry, didn't protest. And what a cutie she was!<br /><br /><div align="center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5236/441/1600/estr0685.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5236/441/400/estr0685.jpg" border="0" /></a><i>Baptismal party - including parents and godparents</i><br /></div><br /><div align="center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5236/441/1600/estr0690.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5236/441/400/estr0690.jpg" border="0" /></a><i>The newly baptized.</i><br /></div><br /><br />Now I'd like to respond briefly to what Paul said in his comment about "indoctrination" by baptism, and about there being something very wrong if I get sick on Good Friday. I talked a little bit to the kid, perhaps ten years old, who was baptized last night. Toni Sue, who was herself baptized just last year, chatted with him and his dad for quite a while last night, and previously as well. The kid, Jason, was the very definition of irrepressible. He asked questions during the liturgy, and volunteered his opinions to anyone in range, before, during and after his baptism. There is no way he was merely doing what he was told, what his dad wanted him to do. He made the choice himself, and I think he had the right to do that.<br /><br />The larger question is, does baptism--of a baby, a child, an adult--do any harm? Is there a reason to try to prevent it? Unless it's done under true duress, or as part of a cult that teaches people to worship some human maniac or suffer or cause some serious harm, I'd say the answer is no. If baptism confers the Holy Spirit, it surely is beneficial to the person, and to the world. If it does not, then the person just gets wet. As for indoctrination, Jason is in danger of learning that there's at least one parish in Tucson (probably many more than one) where the people are friendly and welcoming, and care about human rights and tolerance. He'll be exposed to such dangerous ideas as helping displaced Guatamalans set up medical facilities, saving illegal immigrants from imminent death, helping African refugees find a new home half a world away, and on and on. And oh, yeah: they also believe in Jesus, loving their neighbor and stuff like that. If Jason later decides that those aren't values he wishes to hold, he will be making an informed decision about it. The alternative to allowing the baptism of babies and children is to abridge the first amendment in a major way. As much as religion troubles him as illogical and potentially harmful, I doubt that Paul is in favor of going that far.<br /><br />As for my digestive inconveniences of the past four or five days, I hope I made it clear that religious concerns are, at most, a contributing factor. I had the taxes to do this weekend, and I needed to go make up a couple of hours at work--and never got there. I'm fussing with two diuretics and combinations of minerals, feel perpetually guilty about diet and exercise, and have chronic IBS. Trust me, Paul, giving up religion would not have helped my discomfort this weekend. It would only have stressed me out more.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5236/441/1600/cats0696.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5236/441/400/cats0696.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />But enough. I really hate wrangling about religion. I hate debate and strife and confrontation of any sort. So I'll leave you tonight with a nice little bit of cat blogging from someone who is terribly allergic to cats. John spotted this kitty in the next block early this evening, sitting near a cast iron cat sculpture. He turned the car around so I could take pictures. The cat got up from the sidewalk and lay down at the edge of the road, meowing at me. I meowed back, and took the shots. Here's one of them.<br /><br />Karen<br /><br /><span class="technoratitags">Technorati Tags: <a href="http://www.technorati.com/tag/photos" rel="tag">Photos</a>, <a href="http://www.technorati.com/tag/episcopal" rel="tag">Episcopal</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tag/tucson" rel="tag">Tucson</a></span><br /><span class="technoratitags"><a href="http://technorati.com/tag/tucson" rel="tag"><br /></a></span></div>Karen Funk Blocherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16860091802901743222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8865377.post-1145186463984156362006-04-16T04:19:00.000-07:002006-04-16T04:24:17.753-07:00Easter Vigil...and My Annual IllnessCrossposted from my personal blog...<br /><br />I got exactly zero comments to last night's entry [in my personal blog] about Holy Week at St. Michael's. This doesn't surprise me at all. People who care about the religious side of Easter are busy celebrating it themselves, and people who don't believe in such things are probably turned off by the subject. I can't really blame anyone for that. I get antsy myself sometimes when people talk about religion, pro, con, or, especially, trying to get people to subscribe to a particular narrow view of The One True Religion. So don't think of tonight's entry as an attempt to turn everyone into Episcopalians. Think of it as a photo study of Easter Vigil customs at one particular church in Tucson, AZ. It'll be reasonably painless, I promise!<br /><div align="center">. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5236/441/1600/vigi0607.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5236/441/400/vigi0607.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><i>Gathering around the fire that lights the Paschal Candle</i><br /></div><br />The Mass on the evening of Holy Saturday is technically called The Great Vigil of Easter, The Service of Light, and The First High Mass of Easter. The service itself is every bit as long as the name of it is. It starts outside the church, with the lighting of a small fire. The fire is used to light the Pascal Candle. Father Ireland (it's always Father Ireland for ome reason) lights the candles of the "torches" (candle-bearers), who in turn light little candles carried by the congregation. We enter the church as Father Ireland intones, "The light of Christ." We reply, "Thanks be to God."<br /><br />Inside there is relative darkness for the first prayer. Then some of the lights come on and we hear some Old Testament readings: Abraham and Isaac, the crossing of the Red Sea, something called Salvation Offered Freely to All, and the most unusual of the bunch, the Valley of Dry Bones. "We only did four of the eight readings we could have done," Father Smith joked at the end of Mass, nearly three hours later; but it was true.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5236/441/1600/bapt0649.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5236/441/400/bapt0649.jpg" alt="" highlight="" mass="" was="" baptisms="" we="" relit="" our="" candles="" trooped="" out="" to="" couryard="" with="" labyrinth="" baptismal="" pool="" one="" of="" tims="" postponed="" his="" dunking="" but="" the="" other="" tim="" and="" charles="" had="" theirs="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5236/441/1600/bapt0651.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5236/441/400/bapt0651.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />...and each man's son was baptised as well, a newborn and a kid.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5236/441/1600/bapt0654.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5236/441/400/bapt0654.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Back inside the church, we hear in the the Gospel of Jesus' resurrection. This marks the end of the Vigil. The church is brightly lit, including the candles on the altar. The organ plays a fanfare. Two things we've done without during Lent - the ringing of bells and the word Alleluia - make their triumphant return. Those of us who forgot to bring a bell is encouraged to shake our keys!<br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5236/441/1600/bell0668.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5236/441/400/bell0668.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><i>Ring those bells!</i><br /></div><br />I was going to say a few more words about Good Friday. I'm always sick on that day. I'm not quite sure why, but I think it has to do with stress and guilt. I'm technically supposed to fast, but I get too sick to my stomach of I don't eat. Even the thought of fasting, and the guilt of knowing I won't manage to do it, gives me digestive inconvenience. Plus there's all the stuff I'm not getting done this week while I'mat church, and all the stuff I haven't gotten done at work...you know, the usual.<br /><br />But I was especially sick yesterday, particularly last night while serving as crucifer at the Good Friday service. I felt feverish, my gut hurt, my back hurt, and I was nauseous. But there I was, commemorating much worse suffering on my behalf. My discomfort seemed like a petty thing,so I did my best to ignore it and carry on.<br /><br />I didn't feel that much better on Saturday, and in fact John didn't feel well today. Maybe we've got a bug. Plus I really think the diruetics and minerals contribute to the problem. I've been drinking "light" fruit juices and such all night. It seems to be helping a bit.<br /><br />What about all this religion stuff? What does it mean to me? It means a lot of things - interesting rituals and people I like a lot, and the continual chance to try to connect with God. Over the years I've come to the conclusion that an important part of faith is just showing up. If you don't, there's nothing around to feed it. If you do, you may learn something or be inspired intellectually, even if you don't get some kind of emotional, transcendent experience, the kind I've always wanted but don't seriously believe in. Yet when I look inside for my mustard seed faith, it always turns out to be there after all.<br /><br />I did have a moment in front of the cross on Good Friday that came close to having a major impact. It was that bloody wooden crucifix I showed you last night. As the crucifer, I happened to be lined up directly in front of it, just a couple of feet away, nobody between me and the wooden Jesus. I took the time to really look at it, and tried to imagine the real person, and what happened so long ago.<br /><br />And maybe, just maybe, I started to feel a little better.<br /><br />Karen<br /><br /><span class="technoratitags">Technorati Tags: <a href="http://www.technorati.com/tag/photos" rel="tag">Photos</a>, <a href="http://www.technorati.com/tag/episcopal" rel="tag">Episcopal</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tag/tucson" rel="tag">Tucson</a></span>Karen Funk Blocherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16860091802901743222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8865377.post-1145100374134687362006-04-15T04:24:00.000-07:002006-04-15T04:26:14.146-07:00Welcome to My Holy Week<h2 class="date-header"></h2> <!-- Begin .post --> I'm not quite sure of the best way to handle tonight's entry. Aside from the fact that blogging about religion (aside from unadorned church announcements) always makes me nervous, there's a lot of ground to cover. Even if all I did was introduce each of the photos I want to show you, it would make for a very large, slow-loading entry. After all, like many of you, I'm still on dial-up. More important, though, I'm not sure I've processed the past two evenings yet. I need more time to ponder, and see what words come out of me after tomorrow night.<br /><p><br />What I think I'll do for now is introduce the topic, show you a few key pictures, and point you toward the entry that announces the next <a href="http://roundrobinphoto.blogspot.com/2006/04/round-robin-challenge-holy-for-42606.html">Round Robin Photo Challenge topic: "holy</a>."<br /><br />Holy Week begins with <a href="http://outmavarin.blogspot.com/2006/04/palm-sunday-and-usual-excuse.html">Palm Sunday</a>, but it's on the following Thursday that it really starts to get intense. In the Roman Catholic <a href="http://mavarin.com/images/1stcomm.jpg">church I attended as a kid</a> (St. Ann's in Manlius) it was called Holy Thursday. At <a href="http://smaa.mavarin.com/smaa.html">St. Michael & All Angels Episcopal Church</a> here in Tucson, though, it's called Maundy Thursday. I keep forgetting what Maundy means, if I ever knew it, but apparently it's derived from Old French and before that Latin. I'll just give you the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/Maundy_Thursday">Wikipedia entry</a> and let you explore from there, if you care.<br /><br /></p> <div align="center"><a onclick="window.open('http://mavarin.com/smaa/gfri0583c.jpg','popup','resizable=1,scrollbars=1',''); return false;" href="http://mavarin.com/smaa/maun0565.jpg"><img alt="the sacrament that almost made it." src="http://mavarin.com/smaa/maun0565.jpg" align="middle" border="2" height="447" width="400" /></a><br /> <i><span style="font-size: 130%;">Washing of the Feet.</span></i><br /></div><br /><br />At St. Michael's, the Maundy Thursday service begins with sort of a Christian version of a seder meal, with lamb, pita, and even semi-bitter herbs. This is accompanied by prayers, hymns and liturgy readings. One parishioner from each table does the serving, and afterward, the priests go around and wash the feet of those who served. Then we enter the church, singing <i>Shalom, O My Friends</i>, and have the rest of the Mass. It ends with the stripping of the altar and a haunting musical rendition of <i>Psalm 22</i>.<br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><a onclick="window.open('http://mavarin.com/smaa/gfri0583c.jpg','popup','resizable=1,scrollbars=1',''); return false;" href="http://mavarin.com/smaa/vigi0577.jpg"><img alt="the church around midnight." src="http://mavarin.com/smaa/vigi0577.jpg" align="middle" border="2" height="351" width="400" /></a><br /> <span style="font-size: 130%;"><i>Waiting up with Jesus: St. Michael's 11:30 PM.</i><b><br /><br /></b></span> <div align="left">On Thursday night, overnight, the leftover Sacrament resides in a vessel at the Altar of Repose. People come to the church all night long, usually in pairs, to pray and wait up with Jesus, in commemoration of the night at Gethsemane, when Peter, John and James kept falling asleep. Kevin and I usually do either the 11:30 PM shift or the midnight one. The church is a remarkably peaceful and beautiful place late at night. It's at this point that I try my hardest to connect with God, to make immediate again what is too easily dulled by repetition and nearly two thousand years' distance from modern life.<br /></div><br /></div><br /><div align="center"><a onclick="window.open('http://mavarin.com/smaa/gfri0583c.jpg','popup','resizable=1,scrollbars=1',''); return false;" href="http://mavarin.com/smaa/gfri0583c.jpg"><img alt="close encounter" src="http://mavarin.com/smaa/gfri0583c.jpg" align="middle" border="2" height="471" width="400" /></a><br /></div> <div align="center"><br /> <span style="font-size: 130%;"><i>Not a plastic Jesus.</i><b><br /><br /></b></span> <div align="left">Friday is of course Good Friday. The altar is bare, with just one little candle behind it, under the hidden purple-draped cross. The Passion is sung by three principals plus the choir. Perhaps the most moving part is the Veneration of the Cross. A five-foot crucifix is held up, and people come forward, one by one, to pay their respects by proxy. Most kiss the statue's feet. Others bow, or make he sign of the cross, or just pause and move on. I watched people come up, and it was highly individual, the way different people responded to their close encounter with this rather grotesque piece of art. This particular cross is not of a sanitized, prettified Jesus. It's very definitely of the Suffering Christ. After the veneration, the cross is laid on the steps at the edge of the sanctuary, and people stand nearby to receive the "leftover" Communion. There is no Mass tonight, no Eucharistic Prayer to commemorate the Last Supper. That was last night. Tonight Jesus has been crucified, and is in the tomb.<br /></div> <br /> <a onclick="window.open('http://mavarin.com/smaa/gfri0583c.jpg','popup','resizable=1,scrollbars=1',''); return false;" href="http://mavarin.com/smaa/gfri0584.jpg"><img alt="another view of the cross" src="http://mavarin.com/smaa/gfri0584.jpg" align="middle" border="2" height="300" width="400" /></a><br /><br /><i><span style="font-size: 130%;"> After the service, Jesus remains.</span></i><br /></div><br />Tomorrow night is the Easter Vigil. It's the longest service of the year, with the possible exception of the "Midnight Mass" on Christmas Eve (which at St. Michael's begins with a 10 PM concert). The Easter Vigil begins around dusk, with a small fire in front of the church. We process in bearing candles. The church is mostly dark as we listen of a number of readings. Eventually we come to the commemoration of the Resurrection. The church is lit, and we ring bells as borrowed musicians play triumphant music. The adult baptismal candidates end their months of study and prayers, and make their way out here:<br /><br /><div align="center"><a onclick="window.open('http://mavarin.com/smaa/gfri0583c.jpg','popup','resizable=1,scrollbars=1',''); return false;" href="http://mavarin.com/smaa/laby0567.jpg"><img alt="The labyrinth with the baptismal pool." src="http://mavarin.com/smaa/laby0567.jpg" align="middle" border="2" height="266" width="400" /></a><br /> <i><span style="font-size: 130%;">The labyrinth, with the baptismal pool uncovered.</span></i><br /></div> <span style="font-size: 130%;"><b> </b></span><br />This is the St. Michael's labyrinth, used for meditative walks. The orange cones are marking a small pool, with is usualy kept covered. That is where Tim and Tim and I-think-the-third-name-is Charles will be baptized.<br /><br />More tomorrow night, including Easter Vigil pics and the story of "my annual illness."<br /><br />Karen<br /><br /><br /><span class="technoratitags">Technorati Tags: <a href="http://www.technorati.com/tag/photos" rel="tag">Photos</a>, <a href="http://www.technorati.com/tag/episcopal" rel="tag">Episcopal</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tag/tucson" rel="tag">Tucson</a></span>Karen Funk Blocherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16860091802901743222noreply@blogger.com0