From the local newspaper's obituary page:


Everyone is invited to bring a "cold one" because if it were you, he would.


You can't make this stuff up.


St. Casserole

Cheerful Things

*kind emails from pals


*resident frog in the verbena


*wiring a lamp


*preaching on the Ascension again


*beautiful clear blue day without humidity or heat


*covering Moleskine journals with children's book pictures


*knowing I have a great power drill


St. Casserole, at the ready

Sunday Night Subconscious

nightmares all last night about being in a house with rising water breaking the house in pieces searching for my family and cat carriers while trying to remember what to carry with me to safety trying to keep everyone calm worrying that the people who won't leave will get swept away by the waters because they have loyalty to the area

St.Casserole

Books Read 2008

Carol Osborn, The Art of Resilience, Three Rivers Press. 1997 Rather like having a kind friend stand over your shoulder while you get your hope on.

Hiroko C.Kataoka, Japanese Cultural Encounters and How to Handle Them, Passport Books. 1991 Looking at the world with different eyes. Enjoyed the book.

Our friend, Rev. Books, has a new appointment HOURS FROM HERE. He'll MOVE in June to a great parish. BUT THIS MEANS HE WILL NO LONGER DRINK COFFEE WITH US ON TUESDAYS. He's been our calm and intelligent colleague for years in the Preacher Coffee Drinking Group Every Tuesday.

I will sure miss him.

He's the one who stayed with his people, despite all miseries, after Katrina. He took care of survivors, grieved the lost and cared about the community with such fierce devotion that no one will ever forget him who lived through those terrible days.

Mr. C. loses a golf partner. I lose a compassionate pal who understands if a gal is depressed or doing well and treated me with respect regardless of my mental state.

We will miss him.

When you think of a pastor who exegeted his community so that he could provide ministry, think of Rev. Books.

We met Tuesday to eat shrimp po-boys at Lil' Ray's. It's not our last meal together but each time we meet, I know we are counting down until he moves north.

I'm happy for his new appointment. He will be a blessing to them. I'm happy we kept him for this long since his system does this weird thing of uprooting and moving preachers every few years.

He says he'll begin blogging. My goal is to see him as a full member of the RGBPs.

Yours,


St. Casserole

In a few days, Mr. C. and I will celebrate our 27th anniversary. According to him, the gift for year 27 is sculpture. This stymies the gift-giving impulse mightily. Sculpture? Does the great St. Francis yard statue from several years ago count?

He's given me gifts over the years: making me laugh, surprising me with the variety of his interests, patience, pleasure in my achievements, his steady belief in my gifts as a person. The man has entertained me for 28 years. Not an easy task. If it didn't sound very sappy, I'd say, you, Mr. C. are the gift.

I salute you, Mr. C.! And, I am so glad you don't comment on my bloggage because I can't imagine what you'd say about putting up cats in costumes as the pic for our anniversary post.

St. Casserole

Things I Can Live Without

*people using toothpicks anywhere in my vision path


*whistling tunes off or on key


*drivers who ride bumpers of other drivers


*people who chain their dogs to a stake all day everyday


*beets, brussel sprouts and creamed green peas


*mosquitos, gnats and flying roaches




St. Casserole

2008 Festival of Homies

Who is going to the Festival of Homies this year?


I'll be there.



St. Casserole

Picture is from the 2008 Festival of Homiletics website.

What to do with old people in your congregation who get on your nerves?



A colleague north of here says he is hurt by the older people in his congregation who get in his way, criticise him and overall, make his work difficult.


I suggested that he think through his feelings, identify his goals for his congregation, then move in closer to those who get on his nerves.



Not easy to do, of course. You get your feelings hurt by people who dismiss you and let you know they think you aren't capable of the work you feel called to do.


Now, read that sentence as how the older people feel about how they are treated.


We preach the importance of being involved with the Church. We want people to do the work of the church, attend often and give of themselves to the Body.


What happens when people feel that they are no longer welcome to participate?


For many older people, the Church is the last place they feel their gifts, developed over a lifetime, are valued. Everywhere else they see signs offering them sausage biscuits discounted for senior citizens.


How to make peace in this situation? Move in closer to your "offending" people. Find a place to meet them where they are comfortable to talk about their lives and interests.


Nothing is sadder to me than to discover that that old guy in the over sized blazer who toddled into the sanctuary for years, was, according to his obituary, the author of three books on normative digestive patterns of the American Wolf. Now I find this out? I missed out on discussing this with him! How did he do his research? Where did he live? What was it like doing this work?



Put your feelings aside, please. Allow the older people the dignity of their last years. Do not coddle them. Do not talk down to them. Do not put them in the box marked "UNINTERESTING".


Exceptions to this are those people, of whatever age, who delight in upsetting anything going on at the church. With those people, quietly find out what is going on with them by getting to know them. Keep them close to you. If you discern, without discussing your dislike for them with everyone else, that they are damaging, go see them with your closest elder/church board member. Talk with them respectfully and if things aren't resolved with this conversation, go see them again (with a church officer) and let them know you will not allow them to do damage. You better pray yourself into a stupor before this step because if you don't, you can do great harm to them.


Let's not be remembered as the jerky pastor who told an older parishioner, "You are an old woman! Get out of my way!" Believe me, she recalled this incident to the last days she had on earth. I think of her every time I see the arrogant, now old man jerky preacher.


Yours,


St. Casserole

After Church today, I walked through T.J.Maxx looking for new porch furniture cushions. I replace cushions every year it seems because both Andy and Sister like to sit on the love seats. When you come over, I'll try to brush off the cat and dog hair, OK?

A pretty red-haired woman turned around in the aisle to say, "Do you know me?" I looked at her face. She looked as familiar as all people do as Children of God but "know" her? Nope.

She said, "How about this: That would be me!"

This did not help. I started thinking about Cheesehead. She'd say something like this.

After explaining that I had cotton balls for brains on Sunday afternoons, I admitted I couldn't say her name.

Turns out that I did her wedding 15 years ago.

When she and her husband showed up to look at the church, then meet with the preacher, they asked for the preacher. I replied, "That would be me." This reply stayed with them as a humorous moment.

I'm glad I saw them. Both are happy people, happy with each other and delighted with their work.

Note to Self: Push legislation that every person in my path wear a name tag at all times.

Love,

St. Casserole

Several Things

*First, good pickings early this morning at estate sales. I have a new rug for my study. Good thing I found one because the stop-gap World Market rug gets on my nerves. Bad news! The Garage Antiques on 25th Street in Manhattan is rumored to be closing in November. Double Rats! I've shopped the Garage each and every November for the past 10 years. My favorite sterling flatware dealer and vintage jewelry sellers table there.

*The Johnbell conference at Jesus Meets Hogwarts ended Friday. Our travel home went well. While many on the BE cruise felt the ship for days after, I hear Johnbell's voice in my head today. He is a wonderful speaker.
Go see here for Johnbell's understanding of private worship in a public space. Thanks, Ice Flue!

*Dubby the kitten is biting people and cats with tiny nippy teeth. No one knows how to make him stop. What is the gentlest way to get this kitty to change his behavior?

I missed you all. Glad to be home with my people. Looking forward to worship tomorrow with my People.

St. Casserole

I'm coming home tomorrow. Our tickets aren't on American so I hope we can get home without incident or delay.

Reports came in about the cats. Whistle and Fish took off their collars to race around nekkid. Whistle got outdoors. Unusual circumstances because Fish is modest and does not take off his collar. I don't worry about Whistle escaping because he is a faithful indoor kitty. Dubby, except for putting his big paws on Mr. C's sleeping face, has behaved well.

I am needed at home.

The conference exceeded expectations. I love this setting, too.

Time for me to come home.

Traveling mercies for us tomorrow, if the Lord says the same.

St. Casserole

Dear St. Casserole,

Last Saturday, I went to Mr. Cruthird's Cut n' Curl for a new perm.
His new girl, Fern, put the wrong solution on the rods and I look like trash. She kept saying that I needed a new look which I do not. You can tell from my picture that my usual perm is just fine.

I told Beulah Lynch where you are. She said, "DON'T TELL ME that niece of yours is out-of-town again!" She gets such a charge out of you! She worries that Mr. C. and that little one of yours won't know who you are when you get back home.

I know you are enjoying being on the Big Church grounds, singing with your preacher friends, eating food you didn't cook and acting like you belong up there.
Don't forget where you are from and what you are about. When your Mama passed, I promised to keep my hand on your shoulder so you'd have a wise woman to watch over you. My dear, it's been a pleasure and I'm proud of you. Now, go home.

You've got plenty to handle in your own part of the woods without skipping off to see your pals and learn new songs. You can learn plenty just by being at home and keeping your eyes open. I saw the pile of books in your study and on your bedside table when I dropped by to give Mr. C. the rest of that chocolate pound cake we had at the Ladies' meeting.

I've got to run. I've got a chicken salad to make for the Smith's. Her sister-in-law's brother is about dead over at the hospital. We are all worried sick.

Lovingly,

Aunt Bostick

P.S. One of your friends wrote to ask if I'd get my own blog. Maybe in the Fall, I'm too busy now.

You can't get here from there. Northwest shuffled us around, gave us wrong info and made a mess of our travel day. Two drink vouchers and an upgrade improved nothing, not even my disposition.

I am here at Beautiful Place Rather Hogwartian.

John Bell is a well-spoken teacher with humor, insight and power.

Stacey and LMK's Mom are with me. Love seeing them.

Where else can I stay in a tiny room which smells like a grandmother's home, share a bathroom with 4 other women and go to Bethlehem Chapel everyday? The food is excellent here, too.

I called Rev. Mutha to ask why she wasn't here. Seems like she should be with us for this conference.

Spring shows all over the grounds here with blooming plants and shrubs. I saw a black squirrel early this morning as he ran to prayer.

Doing fine here. Wish you were here, too.

St. Casserole

P.S. None of the preaching small group members appear to be deaf. Rats!

I'm off to the College of Preachers Monday to hear John Bell. I'll preach two sermons to people who I pray will be gentle, kind, and deaf.


You are thinking that I'm doing AN AWFUL LOT of Continuing Ed. these days.


Correct. I'm making up for about ten years of staying home with children and going to nearby events like the Turnip Preaching and Mule Pull Festival or the Karaoke Bar and Grill Homiletical Hash Run. I can't forget to mention the Delta Blues and Bible Thumpers Conference, either.

Up at the Hogwarts Meets Jesus building, I'll be grateful to see Stacey and another favorite blogger who has a cat with extra toes like my Dubby.

Wish I'd see you, too.

Love,

St. Casserole

Mr. C. says, "you haven't blogged in a long time." I say, "I'm the only BE attendee who hasn't blogged about the BE. I just can't yet."

I will TALK with you about the BE. Glad to. But WRITE about it? Not YET.

I loved the BE. That's all I'm saying now.

St. Casserole

The View From the Pew #6 Easter

Aunt Bostick here.

I've got my feet up. Easter Service went just fine. The preacher hollared until his face got red. The Chancel Choir did three special pieces and held in there until Old Dr. Hammer got wheezing. Even then, the sopranos did well except for Lolly Parks who got a hot flash under her choir robe and looked like someone sprayed a hose on her.
By the time we got to the Five Fold Amen, I was ready to go home.

The family came for lunch. I'd gotten the ham out of the oven and put the Splenda into the iced tea when they all drove up in the driveway. The girls helped me put the asparagus, tomato aspic and potato salad on the table. We had Harris-Teeter ice cream for dessert. My coconut from scratch cake days are over until I get this tennis elbow under control.

This is my last post in the "View from the Pew" for my niece. I'm worn out and ready to just watch my soaps while I knit for awhile. I've got a Reader's Digest to get through and I need to finish hemming the downstairs bathroom curtains. Enough is enough.

As St. Casserole said to me this afternoon, "Christ is Risen and the Boat is about to Dock". I know you understand what that means.

Glad to be with you girls.

Aunt Bostick

The View From the Pew Holy Week 5

Aunt Bostick here.

I've been in church so much this week that my purse is filled with bulletins.

I went by Parson's Nursery this morning to get bedding plants. We plant or buy plants on Good Friday down here. I'll put them out in the side yard tomorrow if the weather is clear.

Tonight, I'm just worn out. I'm thinking about all you gals who've churched yourselves into a stupor this week. Chin up! Sunday is coming!

Aunt Bostick

The View From the Pew Holy Week 4

Aunt Bostick here. I'm not posting my picture today. I feel every single year this morning and I need a perm.

This picture of the Old Rommny Church in the UK will do. I'm thinking about water today.

The mid-West flooding and the up East heavy rains are just perfect for Holy Week. I'm sorry for those people. Too much water ruins and kills. Too little ruins and kills. You can't cry all the time although I've tried this week.
I cried the other day most of the day. We had a good rain here even if it doesn't make up for all the dry days we've had for the past six months. Cleaned off all the plants then set them growing lickety-split.

Holy Week gets me thinking of grief. Grief makes me cry. I'm just a hanky clutching mess until Sunday. You preachers think we'll miss the boat without all the Holy Week going into Easter things but those of us who know the Story don't. Going from Palm Sunday to Easter Sunday is for newcomers. The rest of us understand.

They turned my dang water off at the house. I sent my bill in by electronic computer days ago but it takes ten days or so for the Bank to send a check to the Water Department then the Water Department eats bon bons for a few more days before posting my check. Came home from pruning roses in the Church memorial garden to find a bright yellow tag on my front door. Couldn't flush. Couldn't wash my breakfast dishes left in the sink.

Water, tears, floods, rain, Baptism. Holy Week. Foot Washing. Salted water for the parsley at the Seder Meal.

I nicked my finger pruning roses. Blood ran out, not water but I'm made of water.
I've got a pitcher of filtered water in the refrigerator. I drink it all day after I've had my coffee.

We are all together in this even if we don't know we are.

Time for "The View". Those ladies crack me up.

Aunt Bostick

P.S. The Iraq War is 5 years old today. I can't celebrate.

The View From the Pew Holy Week 3

Aunt Bostick here.
I was a bit teary yesterday. The tears started yesterday morning when I took my coffee to the back porch. I sat down to watch the birds and think about the day. I was fine until I started thinking about Jesus carrying his cross to Golgotha. Thinking about that boy carrying a heavy cross through a crowd who hated him made me cry. You just know that his mother and family were devastated.

This made me think about betrayal. Jesus loved people enough to tell them the truth about life and God and then then he was murdered.

If you live long enough, you know what it feels like to be betrayed. Hurts like the devil! Crying out for justice or fairness won't work in these situations. You get hurt no matter what you do.

I heard about how Sen. Obama talked about his preacher on the news yesterday. The think that amazed me was how Sen. Obama was not going to betray his pastor by throwing him aside. The issue of Pastor Wright's comments while preaching wasn't an either/or situation for the Senator. He stood with his pastor while saying he didn't agree with his pastor's comments, even if he understood why a Preacher would say things in righteous anger.

Sen. Obama could have betrayed his pastor, even though his pastor baptized his children and celebrated his marriage. I can't recall the last time I witnessed a public figure act as well as Sen. Obama.

I got a bit teary over how it must have felt to be Pastor Wright and Sen. Obama as they looked for a way to honor each other despite disagreements.

Writing about this makes me need another hanky.

Aunt Bostick