tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2646492165105919542012-02-15T20:49:18.004-06:00Crossroads of Priest Mama, Mama PriestJoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.comBlogger1121100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-22378202915623576172012-02-15T20:47:00.002-06:002012-02-15T20:49:18.011-06:00

It was february but felt like march, the kind of march where early crocuses might creep in and defy the threat of snow to come.    The air was thick with a cool drizzle and the sky the color of spilt milk.  Bits of gray snow squelched beneath our boots, melted into the grass and pooled on the sidewalk.  A dreary day, but hopeful as the rain not snow misted into our hair and our noses grew

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-41278683062975951902012-02-12T07:40:00.003-06:002012-02-12T07:40:46.064-06:00

On a less profoundly depressing note--or perhaps only profoundly depressing to me--my 21 month old has decided that he is FAR too busy to nap.  At the appointed hour I put him in his crib and rather than falling asleep he chats and sings to himself for a couple of HOURS. This has led to the dreaded "overtired state" which has then led to him being awake and crying for hours in the middle of the

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-45168708589310195722012-02-10T06:00:00.005-06:002012-02-10T06:00:53.587-06:00

As described in my last post, there is an amendment to the state constitution being voted on next November that would (if passed) expressly forbid same sex marriage (which isn't legal here, nor would it be legal if the amendment didn't pass) in the state of Minnesota. The fact that this is up for vote makes me indescribably sad, particularly of late.  Because, what I hadn't considered (as a mom

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-40964196243451784862012-01-19T14:32:00.001-06:002012-01-20T07:28:00.480-06:00

So, for those of you who don't know, an amendment to the Minnesota State Constitution will be up for vote this coming November (for an article describing how this came to pass click here).  This amendment would add language prohibiting same sex marriage in the state of Minnesota.  Now, same sex marriage is not currently legal in the state and this amendment, regardless of how folks vote, will not

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-50227963056790217322012-01-17T13:29:00.001-06:002012-01-17T13:29:15.133-06:00

Over the past 7 months I have been spending most of my time as a stay at home mom.  And, as a priest without an altar (I refuse to say without a call, because I most certainly do have one) I have had the blessing of getting to pick what kind of volunteer ministry I want to participate in at our new church.  So, like any other clergy person who gets to be a pew dweller I picked the fun job--

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-65736330738504757152012-01-04T13:53:00.000-06:002012-01-17T13:32:35.812-06:00

I was chatting with a friend whilst running today (28 degrees, off leash dog park, deliriously happy dogs!) and told her that my biggest obstacle to writing is feeling as if it's already been said.  There are a bazillion mom blogs, there are a zillion clergy blogs and there are a million glbt parent blogs...what more could I add to the mix? So, I thought I'd throw it out there...what would you

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-25691596879140287112012-01-01T06:37:00.002-06:002012-01-01T06:37:54.019-06:00

Raise your hand if you've ever heard anyone say "I just want 20?? to be over"...and then read on (and don't forget to geek yourself out with eschatology by following the linky). Premillenial dispensationalism--in brief the notion that a period of destruction will proceed the coming of Christ.  This notion, declared a heresy in the early church, was popularized by the Reverend John Darby in the

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-26079017510826253202011-12-24T14:07:00.001-06:002011-12-24T14:07:21.174-06:00

Christmas for me has always contained a degree of loneliness and melancholy tempered by several degrees of joy. And, I know the manger has room for both. May the God who weeps and rejoices, the God who stands watch and upholds, the God who dwells in cold nights and warm ones alike, the God of the squalling babe and the laughing fool, be with you this day and always.  Amen image from http

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-23169200924178969612011-12-11T14:33:00.001-06:002011-12-11T20:45:51.249-06:00

When I was little, I believed the moon followed me. On the rare occasion when we were in the car after dark I remember lying in the back of the car, looking out of the back window, and watching as the moon seemed to follow us home. It was a special delight, sure and notable. And, if not the moon, then the stars, and if not the stars, the glow of street lights. Shining in the midst of an

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-50642205440479016052011-11-23T13:16:00.002-06:002011-11-23T14:35:38.911-06:00

So, apparently lots of folks (okay "lots" may be an exaggeration) have looked at my blog--at least according to the little widget that counts page views. That said, Who are you? Really, Why do you come here? What questions do you have? And, What are you thankful for? As for me, I'm thankful for the family of choice (the folks I've celebrated Thanksgiving with EVERY year, except one,

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-89288059575050513992011-11-20T06:10:00.000-06:002011-11-21T12:43:55.283-06:00

What more could Christ declare unto us? How more could He stimulate the works of our righteousness and mercy, than by saying that whatever is given to the needy and poor is given to Himself, and by saying that He is aggrieved unless the needy and poor be supplied? So that he who in the Church is not moved by consideration for his brother, may yet be moved by contemplation of Christ; and he who

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-54782205352027391702011-11-16T14:41:00.001-06:002011-11-16T14:56:29.049-06:00

I have mom friends. Friends with blessedly healthy toddlers. Friends who's worries swirl around raising up kind and generous children, the state of public schools and whether their children are, or will be, picky eaters. Mom friends. This is a first for me, for us. As my little guy ran about with one of his small friends, as they laughed and giggled at the very surprise of each other...I

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-19572963807789130222011-10-17T12:21:00.000-05:002011-10-17T12:31:04.551-05:00

I have been amazed over the past 18 months at the thoughtfulness and love that has clearly gone into the selection of gifts our son has been given. From handmade wooden cars made by Nana and Papa to the soft and silky monster doll purchased at a local/handmade church good shop by his adoptive clergy g'ma. Our son truly has been blessed. On one of the parenting forums I read fairly regularly

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-14541052255561389052011-10-04T13:14:00.000-05:002011-10-04T13:20:19.415-05:00

I spent two years working as a pediatric hospital chaplain and some of the deaths still haunt me. Today, I was reflecting on the beautiful, difficult and painful work of love which the staff of pediatric intensive care units undertake each and every day. Please, don't scroll below the picture if reading about a child's death is going to bother you. I never did find out how she died. She came

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-83838597301275600592011-10-01T19:23:00.000-05:002011-10-01T19:24:33.260-05:00

I have a friend, who writes her sermons with the question in mind--”where is the grace”. And, this week as I struggled with this parable from Matthew I found myself searching, digging deep for the grace in the midst of a story that is, quite frankly, horrific. Taken as allegory, we have a story in which we identify the wealthy landowner as God. The tenants are the Pharisees, the Isrealite

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-14636274277745120442011-08-17T14:19:00.000-05:002011-08-17T14:31:41.141-05:00

After my last post, and as a parent in general, I've been reflecting quite a bit on what is "safe" or "okay". In our house the childproofing is fairly minimal--our bookshelves, tall and filled with heavy books, are not bolted to the walls (he's not really a climber) and the baby gate guarding the stairs is not attached with hardware. Part of my, seemingly, lackadaisical approach stems from the

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-7256914936268666532011-07-29T14:08:00.000-05:002011-07-29T14:17:03.315-05:00

When I worked at the children's hospital I learned about secondary trauma--the trauma undergone by those who hear about or witness the AFTERMATH of a traumatic situation. Secondary trauma can lead to PTSD symptoms (and PTSD) in those who are subject to it.I found this to be true as I worked with and witnessed to the various diseases, disasters and deaths that peppered each and every work day.

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-24993923884932340362011-07-16T05:36:00.000-05:002011-07-16T05:49:28.812-05:00

Little (growing bigger by the second) H is asleep. A thunderstorm rolled in around 3:45am and the rolling booms, pouring rain, and strobe like lightning show flashing beyond my eyelids has had me up since. "Boom, boom, boom, Mr. Brown is a wonder. Boom, boom, boom, Mr. Brown makes thunder."Thank you, Mr. Brown.Now...to the rain soaked here and now. The front door is open onto the screened

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-25804038027771722602011-07-15T12:20:00.000-05:002011-07-15T13:12:59.069-05:00

I have not seen any of the Harry Potter films. Apart from a preview or two, here and there, my eyes have not witnessed the on screen phenomena that seems to have gripped a good chunk of this country. This, however, is not to say that I have not read the books. I have, multiple times. Even now, more than a decade after the initial release of the first book I still find myself reaching for my

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-63667445554649545612011-07-08T12:51:00.001-05:002011-07-08T13:03:15.577-05:00

Change...big changes, have been afoot in the Reverend Joy household for a bit now. And, it's all my fault! When our boykins was about 3 months old I did a wedding in another state (a wonderful privilege and honor to join two of the most delightful women I know!). It was an idyllic time of long walks along the river, some of the best sleep we'd had (oh little did we know) as mamas of a newborn

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-60183620516242116362011-04-01T09:16:00.000-05:002011-04-01T11:49:09.763-05:00

Here, at St. Thecla's of the Man Eating Seal, we share something central with ALL Episcopal Churches--the Book of Common Prayer. The use of the Book of Common Prayer is something that defines us as Episcopalians and its usage throughout the church is one of the things that unites us as a faith community.It has been the custom at Church of St Thecla's of the Man Eating Seal to use a booklet that

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-91614953360342156392011-03-17T12:39:00.000-05:002011-03-17T12:42:14.446-05:00

I created the following for the middle school pilgrimage at Trinity Cathedral...creating a liturgy is an honor, the gift of time with young people who do not have access to cell phones a privilege!An invitation to worship is read:Worship is not a play, it is not theatre or concert. It is not something to be consumed, nor it is the work of any one person. Rather it is OUR play, OUR work and OUR

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-86184884715930366252011-02-22T07:39:00.000-06:002011-02-22T07:42:24.502-06:00

In my first CPE unit I had the opportunity to spend a great deal of time with an elderly woman who had been admitted to the inpatient psychiatric unit with severe depression. She was a vibrant and intelligent woman, and in her later years had found herself increasingly crippled by Parkinson’s disease. A great deal of her depression stemmed from her sense that her “usefulness” was gone. In her

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-20304662707798827442011-02-05T08:43:00.000-06:002011-02-05T08:45:12.012-06:00

We like to keep the toy selection in our home fairly minimalist. H has blocks and stacking cups. He has a few stuffed creatures and a wooden wagon. He has plenty and enough, but what he does not have are the wide array of things that, with the assistance of batteries, light up/sing/beep/toot/whir/fizz. Folks have not bought us these things nor have we bought them for him. That is, until this

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-64926211729204097052011-02-05T05:11:00.001-06:002011-02-05T05:15:52.915-06:00

Yes, the title of this post is the song currently stuck in my head. It's a rather saccharine tune meant for children...and is slowly making me batty. That, and the sleep deprivation which has already made me batty, are not lending themselves terribly well to sermon writing this week. But, thankfully, it is Epiphany. And Epiphany is a time of encountering Jesus, of divine revelation and human

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-21017480469402594792011-01-15T19:43:00.000-06:002011-01-15T19:44:36.429-06:00

It seems odd, even to me, that in the midst of tragedy--like that which all too many of us witnessed in Tucson last week--that I find myself turning to Mr. Rogers. Yes, Mr. Rogers, of the neighborhood. As a child I watched intently as he slipped off his loafers and donned his slippers, hung his sweater and welcomed me to his home. There was something comforting about the sweet ritual which

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-86402875255471552612011-01-05T09:01:00.001-06:002011-01-05T09:01:29.458-06:00

As I step, boldly, into the New Year I intend to write a bit more frequently. If you enjoy what I write, well, enjoy! If you find me an ever tedious navel gazer with too much time on her hands...well, then, find yourself a copy of the New Yorker and enjoy! That said, I work best in conversation, with a real (or imagined) audience/partner in dialogue. Bouncing around ideas, developing programs

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-35079331154851079822011-01-01T09:23:00.000-06:002011-01-01T17:27:56.121-06:00

This is not a "best and worst" of post. Rather it is the best and the hardest--because I realize the benefits of much of the hard stuff in this year of monumental firsts and the hard things are by no means bad things (unless you count the sleep deprivation ;)Best moments: Positive pregnancy test Getting into the second trimesterThe first "real" contractionPushingThe baby's first time in my

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-51369522331641186862010-12-31T08:43:00.000-06:002010-12-31T09:03:26.327-06:00

I love this painting by Caravaggio of Mary asleep, with the baby Jesus in her arms, as Joseph holds a score for an angelic violinist. I love it because of the calm eye of the donkey, the weary look on Joseph's face, and the presence of God (as represented by the angel) as comforter and purveyer of beauty in the midst of a refugee family's all to real and present nightmare. I love it because

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-1174786141818380392010-12-26T05:40:00.000-06:002010-12-26T05:46:24.883-06:00

What wondrous love is this, o my soul, o my soul, what wondrous love is this, o my soul...Truly a good day. May the blessings of Christmas spring forth for all of you.

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-85608856967692699692010-12-18T07:59:00.000-06:002010-12-19T18:22:41.591-06:00

No, not the song, the Santa and THE Baby. Yup, Jesus. Recently in Sunday School (Children's Chapel to us) I had to clarify that Santa was not born on December 25th. On the spot, I told the kids that Jesus was born on December 25th and Santa only exists because Jesus exists. Which, is true. No Jesus, No Santa (reads like a bumper sticker!). And, as I stumble further into the Christian mama

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-79620994775948351962010-12-17T07:59:00.000-06:002010-12-17T08:01:09.221-06:00

“This is a direct act of hope, to look through the cloud, and look for a beam of the light from God; and this is called in scripture, “rejoicing in tribulation”, when “the God of hope fills us with joy in believing”: every degree of hope brings a degree of joy.” -Jeremy TaylorWhistling in the dark--a subversive act in which we use the power of a simple and somewhat ridiculous act, whistling, in

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-18122919287772979362010-12-17T07:56:00.000-06:002010-12-17T07:59:36.053-06:00

We cannot survive without light. And, as the days grow shorter we find ourselves in darkness far too often. Thus, we find ways in which to endure the long days ahead—with light. Brightly peering through the darkness we see light cast from candles, and fireplaces, light from the porch to greet us at the end of the day, warm and filling food to fill our bellies, lights strung from our houses and

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-7764372180796482122010-12-17T07:52:00.000-06:002010-12-17T08:02:45.148-06:00

I wrote 12 meditations for Advent for our parish Advent calendar...I will post some of them here as well.In 1986, when I was eight years old, I began to understand the finitude of human life when it is juxtaposed with the universe--heady stuff for a second grader. It was late at night, much later than I was usually allowed to stay up, and my entire family had gathered at the summit of Mount

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-80526532869660857432010-12-04T20:06:00.000-06:002010-12-05T04:57:43.783-06:00

Tomorrow is the first rehearsal for our annual Christmas pageant. Held during the 4pm Christmas Eve service, our pageant has traditionally been the classic Christmas card vignette. The adorable lambs, the sweet angels--and I promise that we will have both this year--mother Mary so meek and mild; the somewhat embarrassed to be up there Joseph, shepherds keeping their watches....and the silent

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-37358595747919287032010-11-18T08:14:00.000-06:002010-11-18T08:21:08.597-06:00

Literal interpretations of metaphors and cliches rock!

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-87702886137738594402010-10-31T15:17:00.000-05:002010-10-31T15:19:59.639-05:00

The propers:Isaiah 1:10-182nd Thessalonians 1:1-4; 11-12Luke 19:1-10The Sermon:The Episcopal church is known for the beauty of its liturgy…some of the most wonderful occasions of worship I have experienced have been rife with pomp and circumstance. Incense wafting through literal catacombs; fire in the darkness; the choir’s anthem ascending and filling the space; communion served while gazing in

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-17191210591054411002010-10-12T09:00:00.001-05:002010-10-12T09:09:54.187-05:00

One of the stranger aspects of this "clerical" life is that I live a church season or two ahead. So, I am currently deep in the depths of Advent preparation (altho' I'm not entirely sure that's why the Christmas displays are encroaching on the Halloween displays at most of the department stores). This Advent, my colleague and I will be compiling a blog of reflections (both visual and written).

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-63863788334978285022010-10-08T08:11:00.000-05:002010-10-10T13:15:49.896-05:00

Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved by him, a worker who has no need to be ashamed, rightly explaining the word of truth. 2 Timothy 2:15He was a beautiful child. Dark flashing eyes would light up with mirth at the approach of his mother and he would eagerly reach for anyone who approached, anticipating love, for that is all he knew. As he grew he was taught the prayers and

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-32845695967466267322010-09-17T07:47:00.000-05:002010-09-17T07:56:11.833-05:00

My friend and parishioner (Lisa we still claim you even though you moved!), Lisa Brown wrote this amazing Facebook note about her experience of wearing a hijab and abaya in honor of Eid. Not only is Lisa an amazing person, she is a fabulous writer and I hope she'll write more and often! On wearing a hijab in rural Illinoisby Lisa Brown on Tuesday, September 14, 2010 at 11:19pmI wore a hijab in

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-39032699965549074632010-09-04T11:25:00.000-05:002010-09-13T07:23:56.764-05:00

Our firm belief in the love of God--compounded with something I once read that stated that a child's understanding of God is fully formed by the time they are five--has caused me to consider the importance of how we respond to our little guy's needs. And, we try to respond with love because his understanding of God is going to be grounded in the understanding of love which he has learned from us

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-78572412822585675682010-08-29T17:45:00.000-05:002010-08-29T17:52:44.012-05:00

Proper 17, year C...The Guest List Sabbath and laws; the roll of law in Jesus’ world If you recall, in last week’s Gospel the synagogue leader criticizes Jesus for doing a work of healing on the Sabbath. Jesus’ retort was roughly that healing was a setting free from bondage and that the “work” of healing was not only allowed but a needful action on the Sabbath. You may wonder why I am bring

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-26022351771105743052010-08-25T14:31:00.000-05:002010-08-25T14:37:17.080-05:00

One of my relatives recently "liked" on Facebook the life fever application's statement, "never make someone a priority when they just make you an option". If the rule of life suggested by this statement (and the many people who "like" it) is to be followed, then this has some very interesting implications for the church.Thoughts?

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-70718197230032714082010-08-20T09:08:00.000-05:002010-08-20T09:11:48.921-05:00

A friend and parishioner, Lisa, wrote a guest blog and gave me a shout out! I'm flattered and half tempted to run off to where she now lives to start a GLBT friendly church (just kidding, but seriously, NO GLBT friendly churches in central IL?!)"Lack of Gay Friendly Churches"Can anyone help her out with some suggestions (I'm thinking moving back home may not be an option!)?

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-50602170192525351742010-08-18T08:33:00.000-05:002010-08-18T08:46:43.550-05:00

Today I am 32...and I wanted to share 32 things for which I am gratefulOur little boyMy wifeA loving communityColleagues who understand when I need pastoral care and have the ability to listen to "what I'm not saying" (thanks Happeners!)Friends who share their love with our boyThe progress our dog has made Financial stability (for which I am grateful but feel oddly guilty about)A positive

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-28850230940450094972010-07-31T08:33:00.000-05:002010-07-31T08:40:47.061-05:00

When our little one was about a week old we were on what would become a multiple times a day walk around our neighborhood. About 100 yards away from our house I stopped and looked closely at the boy. Then I informed him of what I hope and pray will be the truth...someday he will be very sad because Mama and Mommy will die. And, I'm very sorry about that but it is his job to be sad about us.

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-89588968739489800822010-07-14T14:37:00.000-05:002010-07-21T13:23:40.979-05:00

I wrote the following shortly after my first day back at church:"My maternity leave, a very generous 12 weeks that left me longing to live in England where maternity leave is significantly longer, is over. Last Sunday my little family attended church once more...and it was hard.Having to switch gears and focus on everything BUT the baby and concerning myself with the needs and concerns of

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-81291023371727655722010-05-30T10:29:00.000-05:002010-05-30T11:51:00.489-05:00

June 1st is "Blogging for LGBT families day" and in light of my calling (as an Episcopal priest), I chose to blog within the context of Trinity Sunday.John 15:26 - 16:6 26”When the Advocate comes, whom I will send to you from the Father, the Spirit of truth who comes from the Father, he will testify on my behalf. 27You also are to testify because you have been with me from the beginning. 16”I

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-36338355266282068202010-05-17T09:05:00.000-05:002010-05-17T09:28:15.939-05:00

Our Mister Moo (yes, that's what we call him when we aren't saying his name!) is the most amazing and remarkable baby we have ever beheld. I know many parents (if not most) feel this way about their children--but I hadn't really expected to feel that way about my own. I am an old school skeptic, occasional pessimist, and my way of coping with challenges is often to contemplate the "worst case

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-23880649739579367812010-05-05T09:33:00.000-05:002010-05-05T09:44:51.418-05:00

The concept of perichoresis has always been one of my favorite ways of understanding the relationship of the members of the Trinity to each other--mutual indwelling. Or, as a favorite theology professor put it, the dance in which all the members of the Trinity participate and into which we are invited. As a lover of dance, and as someone who danced both modern and jazz for over a decade of her

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-1862544474127452572010-04-26T10:33:00.001-05:002010-04-26T10:39:46.468-05:00

Our son was born on April 20th at 12:22pm after 14 hours of active labor. We are smitten.Funny thoughts during labor, or at the very least, extreme theo/anthro nerdiness...During labor I contemplated...how much sense the connection between purity legislation regarding death is so similar to the legislation regarding birth; the fact that Mary gave birth in a stable, without an epidural or 2

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-24066092828244180722010-04-15T08:13:00.000-05:002010-04-15T08:26:08.130-05:00

So, we're still waiting for a baby at our house...But, in the meantime I'm thinking of all the advantages to keeping him in-utero indefinitely. I won't have to give him the "sex-talk", ever.I won't have to figure out how to teach him to shave or pee standing up.I won't have to worry about drugs (altho' I do miss the occasional Motr.in for myself) or alcohol.Sleep will continue to be interrupted

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-44834596399613595692010-04-13T16:29:00.000-05:002010-04-13T16:37:07.175-05:00

I've recently added to my vocabulary the word "prodromal"prodrome[prō′drōm]Etymology: Gk, prodromos, running before1 an early sign of a developing condition or disease.2 the earliest phase of a developing condition or disease. Many infectious diseases such as chickenpox or measles are most contagious during the prodromal period. prodromal, adj.Which is not to say that pregnancy is contagious--but

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-90414130189998201962010-04-02T12:01:00.000-05:002010-04-02T12:02:26.706-05:00

When God is dead We are not left alone."Mother, here is your son".Who is there for you when God is dead?Blessings on this Good Friday.

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-60145245865807272582010-04-02T07:20:00.000-05:002010-04-02T07:38:28.400-05:00

This is an odd year in our household--the sorrow and grief of Good Friday juxtaposed with an expectant feeling (which to be quite honest is getting to be a feeling of "get him out!") of joyful anticipation... And fear...La Pieta continues to resonate.When I served in the children's hospital it felt like the families I ministered to were trapped on Good Friday. They had all of the horror and

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-88970136878767638832010-03-11T08:08:00.000-06:002010-03-11T08:31:52.379-06:00

In case you wondered if all I think about are babies, specifically the one I happen to be gestating, and the church...I also think about food. Now, I really do enjoy cooking. I find it to be a calming discipline and at this point in my life I find that I can usually figure out what something is "missing" and rectify the situation.Occasionally, the something that is missing is bacon...which we

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-14440394812370391382010-03-09T11:35:00.000-06:002010-03-11T14:36:30.752-06:00

"'Warren,' she said, 'he has come home to die: You needn't be afraid he'll leave you this time.' 'Home,' he mocked gently. 'Yes, what else but home? It all depends on what you mean by home. Of course he's nothing to us, any more then was the hound that came a stranger to us Out of the woods, worn out upon the trail.''Home is the place where, when you have to go there, They have to take you in.' '

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-42663146879227908542010-02-19T11:57:00.000-06:002010-02-19T12:20:53.270-06:00

A couple of months ago I decided that the 4th-6th grade book club I lead would pick their own book for the month of February. Terming it "funny February" I solicited suggestions for a humourous book for the month. One of the kids, a 5th grader, suggested the book "I Am a Genius of Unspeakable Evil and I Want to Be Your Class President", by Josh Lieb. Declaring it the "funniest book he'd ever

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-81459903282255498202010-02-18T05:21:00.000-06:002010-02-18T05:36:06.868-06:00

Epiphany jetted past at a suspiciously swift tempo (hello time/space continuum, slow down please!). And I feel like I've fallen directly into Lent--the most un-Lenten Lent I've ever experienced. At the same time, I know the dance between life and death continues and I am well aware of the risks of love. Statistically, historically (and no, I'm not going to hunt down the book this came from at

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-27354442981744948572009-12-31T12:26:00.000-06:002009-12-31T12:33:44.141-06:00

I don’t know how many people feel that an essential part of preparing for child birth is the re-reading of their favorite childhood books. Don’t get me wrong, I have spent hours poring over Dr. Sears’ Baby Book; What to Expect When You’re Expecting; Real Boys; Gender Matters; and The Happiest Baby on the Block. I am nothing if not practical and I want to get “it” right—whatever “it” is.

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-1936447057441344342009-12-13T05:44:00.000-06:002009-12-13T05:46:18.833-06:00

For those of you who aren't quite as creative as John the Baptist this biblical curse generator might help!God's peace and blessing on this third Sunday in Advent.Reverend Joy+

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-13838007638698846282009-12-11T08:08:00.000-06:002009-12-13T05:47:10.754-06:00

So, I've been contemplating the propers for this coming Sunday (the third Sunday in Advent). And, in the Gospel we have good ol' John the Baptist calling the crowd a "brood of vipers!". It's a rather abrupt start to the good news on a wintry Sunday and it leads to some unusual homiletical cud... When my sister and I were teens (13 and 16) my mother began to use swear words in addressing us.

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-64426232539670298532009-12-09T20:07:00.000-06:002009-12-09T20:11:58.249-06:00

Today is a day of sharp contrasts--of light and dark, warmth and cold, of stillness and wind. The sense of change in the air has made the dog nervous and he licks his lips as the wind howls through the trees. I brace myself in case of tree and limb fall—the wind carries with it the possibility for destruction at the same time I nudge the thermostat up a degree and curl my toes beneath me. The

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-62939541084674384482009-12-09T07:18:00.000-06:002009-12-09T07:19:47.208-06:00

God we cry out to youFor loveFor redemptionAnd that is the promise you have givenWe didn’t take into accountReality.Love and redemptionDo not eliminate suffering.Rather, they accompany it.And in the midst of suffering, We find that you are there The weeping, suffering Christ/Spirit/GodWhose love can only witnessTo the true hope That awaits us onlyIn death.

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-48703694122449361222009-12-02T08:40:00.001-06:002009-12-02T08:50:21.286-06:00

Last year, at this time, I was angrily putting away the book The Womb of Advent written by Mark Bozutti-Jones in which we uses his own family’s pregnancy and impending birth as a foil for reflecting upon each day of Advent. I just couldn’t do it, I couldn’t read about the joy (and fear) of pregnancy and child birth when my own heart was so broken and my own womb so empty. What a difference a

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-33013421868925906682009-11-10T07:58:00.001-06:002009-11-10T08:18:09.467-06:00

I'm settled into my second trimester now and the wee one has started making his/her presence known with intrauterine gymnastics. I have started to feel better and more "like myself" in the past couple of weeks and it has made it easier to think and do things apart from dwell on the state of my uterine occupant and the physical bizarrities of pregnancy. It is also a huge relief to have gone

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-23693924823315718552009-10-22T17:32:00.000-05:002009-10-22T17:48:51.072-05:00

So, one of the challenges of pregnancy has been keeping folks from finding out via facebook--which is less of a concern now, obviously, then it was during the tentative days of the first trimester. With family, friends, parishioners and friends of friends as "friends" on facebook I wanted to avoid being outed by those in the know before I was ready for everyone to know. Having worked in a

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-14896003255516805342009-10-18T15:45:00.000-05:002009-10-18T15:51:40.256-05:00

Now that I am 13 weeks and 4 days pregnant (yes, we know the EXACT day!) I think it's safe to tell you that the major project I'm working on has been a new human being! It has been a delicate dance these past months as we've told family and our close friends while still feeling that it was not yet time to tell the parish. So, we announced to the congregation today which was a wonderful thing--

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-71893686290342294872009-10-02T09:43:00.000-05:002009-10-02T09:46:03.500-05:00

My apologies to all three of you who read my blog :) I've been working on a major project the last couple of months and blogging has fallen by the wayside for a bit. I'll be attempting more regular postings but my mind is rather occupied elsewhere at the moment! Ciao for now.

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-3532700105560271902009-08-19T13:37:00.000-05:002009-08-19T13:39:15.733-05:00

I've been reflecting on the "bread of life" a great deal of yet--the past three weeks in the lectionary have focused on the bread of life passages from John. So, in response to these readings I wrote this. Enjoy.

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-69800147337951885682009-07-25T10:37:00.000-05:002009-07-25T10:40:47.491-05:00

After a steady diet of General Convention on all things Episcopal/Anglican sites I have an essay published that has NOTHING to do with convention...but everything to do with the household of God. Feel free to peruse, and comment, as I share the details of my first baptism. I wrote this essay in light of my first baptism in a church setting--all my other baptisms as a priest had taken place in

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-45834003390313540692009-07-10T09:59:00.000-05:002009-07-10T10:17:58.017-05:00

I came to running fairly late in the game. In the sixth grade we were required to run a mile for P.E. About two laps into my run I had an asthma attack and decided that maybe the option for taking dance classes instead of compulsory gym held some appeal. So, from the age of 11 until 23ish I took dance classes fairly regularly. I loved dancing and enjoyed the physicality of the experience--

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-43876017458172957052009-06-27T19:32:00.000-05:002009-06-27T19:35:48.274-05:00

Good News and Lamenting: A Poem for Pentecost 4BThere is so much to mourn, to regretLost hopes, dreams, lost friendsThe dead.The sufferings of day to dayWith its unfulfilled dreamsAnd hopesIt is easyTo shake a fist At a God Seemingly unmovedYet, no pain, no sufferingIs the will of GodAnd in the midstMercy beckonsAnd soft words call,“Talitha Cum”Such are the miraclesOf day to day survivalWhen

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-6796410562035667822009-06-18T09:45:00.001-05:002009-06-18T09:52:00.137-05:00

I did it. I started the book. I have an outline and a self-imposed deadline--one year. This is not precisely the book I though I would write, but I think it is the book I'm being called to write. No spoilers here...but any editors out there who can keep a good secret? That said, I will keep writing shorter things (having realized that it's true that one MUST write things in order to write

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-28098021566065890792009-06-16T09:22:00.000-05:002009-06-16T09:31:40.563-05:00

I was once again published in Episcopal Cafe. The essay I wrote was partially motivated by an essay they had published that I had found disturbing. The essay was written by a young clergyman who wrote about his love for violent on-line games--his cavalier tone and the nature of the games which he described, games in which you shoot/kill other players in cyber space was fairly gruesome. I read

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-59457583439147589422009-06-10T13:10:00.000-05:002009-06-10T13:12:43.879-05:00

This is the passage I referenced in my sermon on Pentecost--crash helmets indeed (and here I go, trying to get more people to take pictures of our events!):"Why do people in church seem like cheerful, brainless tourists on a packaged tour of the Absolute? … Does anyone have the foggiest idea what sort of power we blithely invoke? Or, as I suspect, does no one believe a word of it? The churches

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-38810635977387573472009-06-09T01:17:00.000-05:002009-06-09T01:18:59.141-05:00

This "prayer lava lamp" may be just the ticket for a case of anxiety. The funkadelic music doesn't hurt either!

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-1852332949466109852009-06-09T00:19:00.000-05:002009-06-09T00:28:11.751-05:00

The things that are keeping me awake: trying to make sure that I don’t offend anyone or inadvertently hurt anyone‘s feelings; being extraneous; the people who don’t come to church when they’d been coming regularly, I start to think I did something that hurt them; feeling like I need to make church “fun” in order to get people to attend; making sure all the details in the bulletin are right, not

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-72920396700290907342009-05-28T09:57:00.001-05:002009-05-28T10:05:05.388-05:00

Little mite,Solid and serious presenceBig, brown eyes.Daring me to deny herthe passion of the Spirit.Sometimes the Spirit catches meand I cry.So, don't worry, it's just the Spirit.Earnest face nodding, sisters gathered round,It's true, it's true.Five or six at the time.A recent vision at fifteen--With hand on jutted hip,Jaw moving wildly around fruited gum.Watching the boys, all basketballs and

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-5556453668538846472009-05-22T03:29:00.000-05:002009-05-22T03:40:12.427-05:00

No one ever tells you that making, and canning, strawberry jam is a joyful experience. The strawberries picked up at the Amish farm stand (despite the flooded roads after weeks of rain), the "fried pies" bought to eat right away, the taste of fresh strawberries glazed with hot jam. A mother-in-law who insists on the vast quantities of sugar she's always used (apparently jam won't set right

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-72057579933976201092009-05-03T19:01:00.000-05:002009-05-03T19:16:06.852-05:00

If we truly believe that we are the Body of Christ, that we are Jesus' hands and feet in the world, then it is our presence that serves as a reminder and the reality of God's presence to others. We embody and incarnate God in our lives and in the midst of our joys and sufferings. Today I reflected in my sermon on this reality--on our accountability to be the cornerstones, shepherds and sheep

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-57535159743938336452009-04-30T09:45:00.000-05:002009-04-30T09:46:23.014-05:00

I'm the 569,942,529 richest person on earth!Discover how rich you are! >>

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-35904441631867025642009-04-29T09:33:00.001-05:002009-04-29T09:37:30.430-05:00

An essay I wrote for Episcopal Cafe has been posted on their Daily Episcopalian Blog And, people wonder why I left...How long O Lord, how long? I worked as a SOLO chaplain in a 244 bed children's hospital, across 7+ units. I could not take time away to attend any programming for the newly ordained and could rarely attend diocesan programs. My pager was on Monday morning through Friday night

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-34717921217841736682009-04-22T08:51:00.000-05:002009-04-22T09:02:15.450-05:00

Easter is still with us and as the weather warms, flowers bloom and trees leaf out (ironic in that today's weather includes snow)...a veritable feast of church programs are emerging:Episcopal Walk Run Club; 4.5.6 Book Club; Creating Camp: a fine arts based vacation Bible school (July 20th-25th); strawberries and steel drums (June 7th following services); oh, and of course, monthly home

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-26853567813359015522009-04-12T04:11:00.000-05:002009-04-12T04:42:41.048-05:00

"A Morning Song (For the First Day of Spring)" by Eleanor FarjeonMorning has broken, like the first morningBlackbird has spoken, like the first birdPraise for the singing, praise for the morningPraise for the springing fresh from the wordSweet the rain's new fall, sunlit from heavenLike the first dewfall, on the first grassPraise for the sweetness of the wet gardenSprung in completeness where his

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-88287628048460547942009-04-11T07:27:00.000-05:002009-04-11T08:26:48.622-05:00

After Her Death a poem by Mary Oliver I am trying to find the lesson For tomorrow. Matthew something. Which lectionary? I have not forgotten the Way, but, a little, the way to the Way. The trees keep whispering peace, peace, and the birds in the shallows are full of the bodies of small fish and are content. They open their wings so easily, and fly. So. It is still

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-71913063081055122882009-04-10T08:35:00.000-05:002009-04-10T08:55:15.668-05:00

I remember her now. Her body was stiff in my arms and I held her while I prayed with her family, her father and mother distraught and terrified at what they saw. Her father explained to me again and again: I found her dead, I tried to do CPR, she was blue. Meanwhile, I held her and prayed. Her hair, if I recall correctly, was in little pony tails. Her mouth was crusted with dried sputum

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-73218125705127003712009-04-09T07:56:00.000-05:002009-04-09T08:17:33.718-05:00

"The word Maundy is derived through Middle English, and Old French mandé, from the Latin mandatum, the first word of the phrase "Mandatum novum do vobis ut diligatis invicem sicut dilexi vos" ("A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you"), the statement by Jesus in the Gospel of John (13:34)" http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maundy_Thursday"Mandate (N.)1501, from

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-88252472232104120172009-04-08T07:37:00.000-05:002009-04-08T09:07:04.743-05:00

image from http://www.designsbychris.com/others.html?file=upper_room_logoToday feels very much like "hump day" for Holy Week. And, so today, I am headed to the kitchen of friends. I will drink their tea, read their newspaper, pet their dogs and be given the blessing of their quiet companionship. I am not one to let my guard down and these friends provide one of the few places where I feel

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-17148007466477992122009-04-07T08:01:00.000-05:002009-04-07T08:13:34.000-05:00

“Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. “ Jn 12:24I have never been in any call/job for more than three years. This is largely due to my age and the interspersion of large chunks of schooling in the midst of my professional life--4 years of college, during which I worked at a daycare

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-36930590447913552872009-04-06T10:34:00.000-05:002009-04-06T10:36:02.058-05:00

Even though it is only Monday of Holy Week, I’ve jumped ahead to Good Friday. Perhaps it is still my theological inclination to spend too much time at the cross and not enough in “ordinary” time or any other time for that matter. I lived a bit over two years of Good Fridays in my call as a pediatric chaplain and I am still searching for the joy of Easter that was stolen in those years. But,

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-26655340971251344052009-04-06T09:36:00.000-05:002009-04-06T14:48:34.575-05:00

(two minutes of silence).How does one speak after the crucifixion?Awkward silence, uncomfortable silence, painful silence-- Slipping into companionable silence. The passion is sometimes important not for what is said,but for who is silent. The woman with the jar of nard did not speak.Anointing her beloved in life with a ritual customary after death.There would be no time before the Sabbath set

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-46817312006513546912009-03-30T08:57:00.000-05:002009-03-30T09:04:06.716-05:00

Apparently my brother and I have more in common than I thought...we've both had trading cards of us made!

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-76404076820812771122009-03-24T07:41:00.000-05:002009-03-25T10:17:32.405-05:00

I remember my first communion. Every Sunday morning my sister and I were dropped off at St. Joseph's Church in Makawao. She would trot off to her classroom and I to mine for an hour or so of religious instruction. I remember the crucifixes in each classroom, the see-saws on the playground and the coral colored exterior of the church. Adjoining the church was the small cemetery where my

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-14459991234014342292009-02-25T08:59:00.000-06:002009-02-25T09:14:48.651-06:00

A couple of weeks ago--perhaps inspired by the pile of journals I unearthed--I decided to share the two stories of my teen years that brought me, first, to the Episcopal church, and second, to a faith in Christ. Now, I usually avoid (like the plague) anything that makes me feel vulnerable. So, I truly did not enjoy preaching on this particular Sunday. But, given the Gospel for the day in which

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-2921324053733408702009-02-05T08:11:00.000-06:002009-02-05T08:41:20.926-06:00

I pulled a box up from the basement last week. The box is full of journals and photos written and taken between the ages of 15 and 25. About 2x3 feet, the contents have traveled from Maui to MA, from MA to OH, from OH to ME and back to OH. I have added to the contents from time to time but have largely have left them undisturbed. There are hundreds of pages of detailing my internal processing

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-7918993604682028682009-01-23T07:40:00.000-06:002009-01-23T07:44:28.877-06:00

I feel as if I'm on a slippery slope--I DO NOT discuss politics from the pulpit. But, how to engage with this week's text--scripture about prophetic voices, a city of individuals offering personal sacrifice for the sake of the whole (the people all wore sack cloth) and the calling to discipleship of two lowly fisherman--in light of our presidential inauguration. As I, again, read President

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-38485228348096118512009-01-20T12:32:00.000-06:002009-01-23T07:40:30.922-06:00

I was pleased with both Obama's inaugural speech and Reverend Lowery's benediction. They were inspirational and inclusive. I pray that these next years will be the same.

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-38483349846156204052009-01-20T08:57:00.001-06:002009-01-20T09:10:54.423-06:00

I am sitting on the couch watching the inauguration coverage and fighting a pervasive sense of cynicism. Don't get me wrong, I am absolutely delighted that we now have a President Obama--and proud that he is from my home state. I can only imagine where we will go with his leadership and therein I pause...I cannot help but think about General Convention 2006 in the Episcopal Church in which we

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-264649216510591954.post-36082722507740404132009-01-15T15:34:00.000-06:002009-01-15T15:52:52.960-06:00

Hunting and football games were most likely my two earliest excursions (apart from my baptism) as an infant. Where I was raised, the island of Maui, there was a very large feral goat population. These goats, rangy creatures with dark fur and dark eyes round as marbles, lived on the slopes of Haleakala in vast herds. With no natural predators the goats thrived and local families, such as my own

Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04619770797618421513noreply@blogger.com0