That was the week that was
Dec. 30th, 2007 01:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
chrishansenhomeWell, let's start with Christmas Eve. Not much to say: I went to work, somewhat bleary, and cleaned up some of the email I got during my week in Marblehead. I decided this year that I would not go to Midnight Mass, just set up for it, since I am always overtired on Christmas after going. HWMBO misheard me and got dressed for Midnight Mass, just as I returned from setting up. He was a bit nonplussed, but we appreciated the extra sleep.
We had a guest through Boxing Day, one of HWMBO's friends from Singapore. He is a Chinese teacher, and brought presents: a set of Beijing Olympic keyrings with the mascots on them, and some eau de cologne. Very nice. On Christmas Day I went to Mass, and was sad to hear that the sermon was to be delivered by the Nigerian archdeacon who is studying here and is a relative of a parishioner. He is not in tune with the congregation, and preaches as if it were a Nigerian bible study. Very long, and dull. But, saved by the archdeacon's alarm clock: he arose late and arrived just as the Rector was finishing up an impromptu sermon.
Then, home to cook a chicken, some roast vegetables, stuffing, creamed onions, and the like. We ate around 2, and then settled down for the Queen's Speech (HM the Q looks every minute of her 81+ years now). As there's no transport on Christmas Day, we went nowhere and did virtually nothing.
Boxing Day was much the same, except that our houseguest came with us to the New World restaurant in Chinatown for dim sum, which we enjoyed, on the whole. The ang moh group at the table next to us was having none of it: you're supposed to order from menus in restaurants, so they ordered from menus rather than choosing from the carts that roamed the dining room. I went to Blackwell's after that and bought some books, HWMBO and our guest went to Fopp's (newly reopened after emerging from bankruptcy) and helped their gross takings quite a bit. We walked down to Whitehall, and I was dead tired, so I went home while they walked around a bit more.
Our houseguest left for the airport that evening, and, for the first time in months, we were alone in the house! What joy! Lodgers are nice, but Not Lodgers can be even better.
I worked Thursday and Friday, and wrote my sermon for Sunday morning, which I attach below. Saturday we did a little shopping and went to Tate Modern for the show All the World's a Stage. I think it closes on Wednesday; don't rush to see it; it wasn't worth what we paid for it (which was nothing). And lunch in the Tate restaurant there is always fraught. They seem to have removed Diet Coke from the menu, drat! I had a (very small) glass of apple juice. HWMBO had fish and chips, and I had the burger with chips. The chips (French fries to USans) were not well-cooked: they were slightly soggy on the outside and somewhat hardish (meaning not well cooked) on the inside. Next time we're going to the Members Room to see if that's any better. We stopped off at the Discount Shop (where they sell off stuff they couldn't flog during the year), and I picked up some Gilbert and George cufflinks, and a couple of fridge magnets, one of which was an entire G&G painting cut into small squares. Much Fun will be had.
On the way home we stopped at Sainsbury to pick up dessert (carrot cake) for this evening, and the sky over the Borough was impressive:
This morning I preached: at this particular C of E parish they keep RC festivals, so it was the Feast of the Holy Family. Not much to say about the Holy Family as we don't know much about their family life. However, much to say about families in general. Tonight we will go to our friend Alex (aka Inuit Boy; for UK readers he is the actor who portrays the Inuit with penguins [who have obviously seriously lost their way] in the DFS commercial) for dinner and bring the carrot cake as dessert.
December 30, 2007 Feast of the Holy Family
Sermon delivered at St. John the Evangelist, 10 am.
Readings: Sirach 3:2-6,12-14; Ps 128 1-5; Colossians 3:12-21; Matthew 2:13-15, 19-23
In the name of God, the one, the Undivided Trinity. AMEN.
I am a very amateur genealogist. The Internet has been a real boon to those of us who want to research our family trees. I have been able to order my grandfather’s birth certificate from Scotland, my great-grandfather’s marriage and baptismal certificates, and look at census records from the early 1800’s. This is really amazing.
In the course of my researches I came across the black sheep of the family. He was my great-grandfather on my father’s mother’s side, and he lived in Wyoming, part of the Wild West of the United States, in the 1880’s. When I’d learned a bit about his life, I was suitably impressed, and the next time I spoke with my father, I told him what I’d learned about his grandfather (whom he never knew).
“Dad, I’ve discovered that your grandfather in Wyoming was a drunkard and horse thief.” I said. He laughed for quite a while, and asked in jest: “Did they hang him?” I replied: “You really shouldn’t joke about it—your mother named you after him.”
One other black sheep was my grand-uncle in my mother’s side. He was a charming rogue, who divorced his first wife for an Englishwoman from Birmingham whom he met during the Second World War. He had served time in prison for robbery—he’d torn the poor box off the wall of the church and taken it away to break it open and steal the money. I like to think that my own career as a volunteer in various church positions somewhat makes up for that.
Families are variable groups: held together by marriage and by blood, but sometimes by nothing else. In the 1950’s in the United States, the image of the perfect family was portrayed on television in such programs as “Leave it to Beaver” or “Ozzie and Harriet”, with a husband who went to work every day, two children who were good students, a wife who stayed at home, impeccably dressed, and who made a sit-down dinner each and every day while dressed in an evening gown and high heels. When the husband came home, he was handed the evening newspaper, his pipe, and his slippers. The only things that were slightly out of place were the little misbehaviours of the children—without which the program would have held no interest.
The reality of family life is much messier than 1950’s TV would make it; even in 1950, the kind of family portrayed on TV was a target at which each family would aim, and most often miss. People were divorced and remarried, parents (and especially fathers) sometimes drank too much, very often smoked too much, and violence often ruled the family dinner table.
Those of us who were from working-class families often yearned for the kind of suburban middle-class respectability that TV showed us each night of the week.
The author of our first reading this morning seems to have foreseen the TV families I’ve been talking about. The father is set in honour over his children, the mother has authority over her sons, the children are to take care of their father even if his mind fails him.
The reality is much different. We hear stories of children abusing their parents, parents abusing their children, harm coming to people in the place where they should feel safest with the people who should be protecting them.
We might hold the family of Mary, Joseph, and Jesus up as the ideal family, that Holy Family which is the model for every other family. But, in reality, we don’t know much about the home life of this Judaean family of the first century. The Scriptures say little about it other than the predictable docility of the young boy Jesus—it would be surprising had anything other than his disappearance at Jerusalem spoiled that image of a pleasant, happy, obedient young boy.
Paul’s advice in the Epistle this morning is a perfect recipe for family harmony: Clothe yourselves with mercy, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, he says. Bear with one another: forgive each other’s grievances.
A friend of mine, after 52 years of marriage, was asked for her secret of happy married life. She answered: “We’re best mates.” How true that is, and it sums up in three words what Paul takes three paragraphs to say.
Best mates bear with each other; like stones they polish each other smooth by long acquaintance with each other. When one has a grievance against the other, they forgive, rather than aggravate. They are kind and patient in all their interactions with their mate. They bind all these things together with love, just as Paul says; love makes it all worthwhile.
But there are some problems with what Paul says in this reading: Wives should be submissive to their husbands, and husbands should love their wives. The second phrase is praiseworthy, but what about this “submissive” business? This verse has been used again and again as a weapon to forcibly mould the family into a pattern of authoritative father, humble and passive mother, and children meek and obedient in everything.
I can’t rewrite Paul; many have tried and failed at that. Can we rescue Paul from misinterpretation? I think we might truly say that the best families are those in which a common mind in God exists among all: parents and children alike. Paul says as much in the previous verses: “In wisdom made perfect, instruct and admonish one another.” he says. Wisdom doesn’t necessarily dwell only in the father, with the mother and children left out. All those who have taken up the cross of Christ can participate in mutual instruction and encouragement. Parents and children alike must submit themselves to God, and it is in that context that submission within the family should be seen.
Being best mates in this life within our own families is the model after which we should strive. We’ll often fall short: that’s the nature of our humanity. In that striving we all belong to holy families. Even a black sheep may respond to that love, care, and patience that helps that family to grow ever closer to each other, and thus to the family of all the baptised, and ultimately closer to God. AMEN.
We had a guest through Boxing Day, one of HWMBO's friends from Singapore. He is a Chinese teacher, and brought presents: a set of Beijing Olympic keyrings with the mascots on them, and some eau de cologne. Very nice. On Christmas Day I went to Mass, and was sad to hear that the sermon was to be delivered by the Nigerian archdeacon who is studying here and is a relative of a parishioner. He is not in tune with the congregation, and preaches as if it were a Nigerian bible study. Very long, and dull. But, saved by the archdeacon's alarm clock: he arose late and arrived just as the Rector was finishing up an impromptu sermon.
Then, home to cook a chicken, some roast vegetables, stuffing, creamed onions, and the like. We ate around 2, and then settled down for the Queen's Speech (HM the Q looks every minute of her 81+ years now). As there's no transport on Christmas Day, we went nowhere and did virtually nothing.
Boxing Day was much the same, except that our houseguest came with us to the New World restaurant in Chinatown for dim sum, which we enjoyed, on the whole. The ang moh group at the table next to us was having none of it: you're supposed to order from menus in restaurants, so they ordered from menus rather than choosing from the carts that roamed the dining room. I went to Blackwell's after that and bought some books, HWMBO and our guest went to Fopp's (newly reopened after emerging from bankruptcy) and helped their gross takings quite a bit. We walked down to Whitehall, and I was dead tired, so I went home while they walked around a bit more.
Our houseguest left for the airport that evening, and, for the first time in months, we were alone in the house! What joy! Lodgers are nice, but Not Lodgers can be even better.
I worked Thursday and Friday, and wrote my sermon for Sunday morning, which I attach below. Saturday we did a little shopping and went to Tate Modern for the show All the World's a Stage. I think it closes on Wednesday; don't rush to see it; it wasn't worth what we paid for it (which was nothing). And lunch in the Tate restaurant there is always fraught. They seem to have removed Diet Coke from the menu, drat! I had a (very small) glass of apple juice. HWMBO had fish and chips, and I had the burger with chips. The chips (French fries to USans) were not well-cooked: they were slightly soggy on the outside and somewhat hardish (meaning not well cooked) on the inside. Next time we're going to the Members Room to see if that's any better. We stopped off at the Discount Shop (where they sell off stuff they couldn't flog during the year), and I picked up some Gilbert and George cufflinks, and a couple of fridge magnets, one of which was an entire G&G painting cut into small squares. Much Fun will be had.
On the way home we stopped at Sainsbury to pick up dessert (carrot cake) for this evening, and the sky over the Borough was impressive:
This morning I preached: at this particular C of E parish they keep RC festivals, so it was the Feast of the Holy Family. Not much to say about the Holy Family as we don't know much about their family life. However, much to say about families in general. Tonight we will go to our friend Alex (aka Inuit Boy; for UK readers he is the actor who portrays the Inuit with penguins [who have obviously seriously lost their way] in the DFS commercial) for dinner and bring the carrot cake as dessert.
December 30, 2007 Feast of the Holy Family
Sermon delivered at St. John the Evangelist, 10 am.
Readings: Sirach 3:2-6,12-14; Ps 128 1-5; Colossians 3:12-21; Matthew 2:13-15, 19-23
In the name of God, the one, the Undivided Trinity. AMEN.
I am a very amateur genealogist. The Internet has been a real boon to those of us who want to research our family trees. I have been able to order my grandfather’s birth certificate from Scotland, my great-grandfather’s marriage and baptismal certificates, and look at census records from the early 1800’s. This is really amazing.
In the course of my researches I came across the black sheep of the family. He was my great-grandfather on my father’s mother’s side, and he lived in Wyoming, part of the Wild West of the United States, in the 1880’s. When I’d learned a bit about his life, I was suitably impressed, and the next time I spoke with my father, I told him what I’d learned about his grandfather (whom he never knew).
“Dad, I’ve discovered that your grandfather in Wyoming was a drunkard and horse thief.” I said. He laughed for quite a while, and asked in jest: “Did they hang him?” I replied: “You really shouldn’t joke about it—your mother named you after him.”
One other black sheep was my grand-uncle in my mother’s side. He was a charming rogue, who divorced his first wife for an Englishwoman from Birmingham whom he met during the Second World War. He had served time in prison for robbery—he’d torn the poor box off the wall of the church and taken it away to break it open and steal the money. I like to think that my own career as a volunteer in various church positions somewhat makes up for that.
Families are variable groups: held together by marriage and by blood, but sometimes by nothing else. In the 1950’s in the United States, the image of the perfect family was portrayed on television in such programs as “Leave it to Beaver” or “Ozzie and Harriet”, with a husband who went to work every day, two children who were good students, a wife who stayed at home, impeccably dressed, and who made a sit-down dinner each and every day while dressed in an evening gown and high heels. When the husband came home, he was handed the evening newspaper, his pipe, and his slippers. The only things that were slightly out of place were the little misbehaviours of the children—without which the program would have held no interest.
The reality of family life is much messier than 1950’s TV would make it; even in 1950, the kind of family portrayed on TV was a target at which each family would aim, and most often miss. People were divorced and remarried, parents (and especially fathers) sometimes drank too much, very often smoked too much, and violence often ruled the family dinner table.
Those of us who were from working-class families often yearned for the kind of suburban middle-class respectability that TV showed us each night of the week.
The author of our first reading this morning seems to have foreseen the TV families I’ve been talking about. The father is set in honour over his children, the mother has authority over her sons, the children are to take care of their father even if his mind fails him.
The reality is much different. We hear stories of children abusing their parents, parents abusing their children, harm coming to people in the place where they should feel safest with the people who should be protecting them.
We might hold the family of Mary, Joseph, and Jesus up as the ideal family, that Holy Family which is the model for every other family. But, in reality, we don’t know much about the home life of this Judaean family of the first century. The Scriptures say little about it other than the predictable docility of the young boy Jesus—it would be surprising had anything other than his disappearance at Jerusalem spoiled that image of a pleasant, happy, obedient young boy.
Paul’s advice in the Epistle this morning is a perfect recipe for family harmony: Clothe yourselves with mercy, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, he says. Bear with one another: forgive each other’s grievances.
A friend of mine, after 52 years of marriage, was asked for her secret of happy married life. She answered: “We’re best mates.” How true that is, and it sums up in three words what Paul takes three paragraphs to say.
Best mates bear with each other; like stones they polish each other smooth by long acquaintance with each other. When one has a grievance against the other, they forgive, rather than aggravate. They are kind and patient in all their interactions with their mate. They bind all these things together with love, just as Paul says; love makes it all worthwhile.
But there are some problems with what Paul says in this reading: Wives should be submissive to their husbands, and husbands should love their wives. The second phrase is praiseworthy, but what about this “submissive” business? This verse has been used again and again as a weapon to forcibly mould the family into a pattern of authoritative father, humble and passive mother, and children meek and obedient in everything.
I can’t rewrite Paul; many have tried and failed at that. Can we rescue Paul from misinterpretation? I think we might truly say that the best families are those in which a common mind in God exists among all: parents and children alike. Paul says as much in the previous verses: “In wisdom made perfect, instruct and admonish one another.” he says. Wisdom doesn’t necessarily dwell only in the father, with the mother and children left out. All those who have taken up the cross of Christ can participate in mutual instruction and encouragement. Parents and children alike must submit themselves to God, and it is in that context that submission within the family should be seen.
Being best mates in this life within our own families is the model after which we should strive. We’ll often fall short: that’s the nature of our humanity. In that striving we all belong to holy families. Even a black sheep may respond to that love, care, and patience that helps that family to grow ever closer to each other, and thus to the family of all the baptised, and ultimately closer to God. AMEN.
