Good Sunday morning, good citizens of the cosmos. And, it's a be-YOU-tiful morning here on the Delmarva Peninsula. Right now, at 7 AM, it's an absolutely delightful 72 degrees, with a high expected only at 81, which, compared to other days this week, is almost downright chilly.
The air quality is actually good at 34, UV index is low at 0, and the wind, if it can be described at that, is coming from the West at 2 (that's T.W.O.) mph.
See also: Beautiful morning.
I don't know how I did it but I made an exceptional cup of coffee this morning. It's mild and silky on the tongue with a burst of strong coffee flavor on the back of the palate. I'm pretty sure that when I made it, my eyes were closed and I was sort of on automatic pilot, as I am most mornings, truth be told.
You know, there are certain routines one has when one gets up in the morning - a sure and certain defense against the drowsiness that those of us who aren't "Morning People" have - that guarantees that stuff gets done anyway.
I won't go into all the minutia of my routine but clearly, one of the first things I do is to put on the coffee. Then, while that's perking away, I do my morning ablutions, get dressed, make the bed, and get ready to throw back the first gulp of liquid gold before saying my prayers and meditating for a bit.
This morning, the coffee is especially good. And, I think, when that happens, you need to stop and sing a few praises for the amazing miracle of the coffee bean, and of cold, filtered water, and the wonders of electricity, and the engineering design of the coffee percolator, and the sound of coffee perking away while the laughing gulls sing their hosannas to the Lord and Creator of Life, which serves as a reminder to thank God again for this wee cottage on the back marshes of one of the many estuaries of the Delmarva Peninsula, which all combine to make the vibrant taste of a cup of hot coffee with its miraculous, restorative, and often medicinal powers.
It's important to do that, I think, especially in the morning when everything else for me is on autopilot and a whole day could go by without acknowledging the first miracle of the day: I'm up and, as the Jews pray, my soul has returned! And, after coffee, I've actually got most of my wits about me.
I think Cecily is right: I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple in a field somewhere and don't notice it. But I think it might also make God just a wee bit cranky not to notice the goodness of simple pleasures like a morning cup of coffee or tea or whatever your preferred morning beverage.
Meanwhile, over at the Lectionary Page, Jesus is telling the story about the Foolish Rich Man who thought he could store up all his riches on earth by building bigger storage bins. It's such a common human failing. We seem hot-wired to think that bigger really is better. That less is, well, less. And, that everything needs to be 'er' - stronger, better, faster.
Even more than that, we're conditioned to believe that if we don't want more, something is wrong with us. We're lazy ne'er-do-wells, who have no ambition. And, if we don't have more, we're less than and have no value as human beings.
Nothing brings this out more than the Lottery which, this week, was worth over a billion dollars. A. billion. Dollars.
I'll admit it: we bought a ticket. Yes, we did. Spent a whole five bucks. But first, we had to have a conversation about all the wonderful, noble things we'd do with the winnings You know, to justify throwing five whole dollars at the ridiculous odds of winning. I remember times - not so long ago -when we worried we would be $5 short to pay the rent.
It reminded me of something I read that Voltaire once said, "God is a comedian playing to an audience that is too afraid to laugh." And, Garrison Keillor, who probably actually read Voltaire, once said that "God writes a lot of comedy, but the trouble is that God is stuck with so many humans who are lousy comedy actors."
The preacher isn't preaching this morning. The Deacon is. It's hardly his first time in the pulpit but it is his first time up at bat at St. Paul's. He'll do that once a month, for which the preacher is deeply grateful. He's a good man and an experienced deacon. It will be fun to see what he has to say.
It's my last day in Facebook Time Out so if you want to catch the 10 AM service live, you'll have to watch it on Ms. Conroy's Facebook page. I'll post a link once we get home from church on Sirach 26:10 and St. Paul's Facebook page.
Please do take care. The COVID rate here in Delaware is now at 20% and the Public Health Officials are asking us to wear masks in crowded places. Ms. Conroy and I wore our masks to the movie theater yesterday. We'll be wearing them in church.
Yes, it's a pain but you know, if the choice is "Mask or Sick", I'm taking Mask every time. And, the third booster in September, before I leave for the Camino. Yes, I will.
Other than laughter and digestion, I think it's very important to take COVID seriously. This virus doesn't mess.
Make it a great day, everybody. There's never been a day quite like today ever before and there's never going to be one exactly like it ever again. So, get out there and enjoy!
And, as they say on the streets of Lisbon, Portugal, where I'll be on September 29th, “bom dia“ (good morning or hello - until 1 or 2 PM ), then it's “boa tarde“ (good afternoon), then, “boa noite”(good evening), or simply “olá“ (hi!).
The air quality is actually good at 34, UV index is low at 0, and the wind, if it can be described at that, is coming from the West at 2 (that's T.W.O.) mph.
See also: Beautiful morning.
I don't know how I did it but I made an exceptional cup of coffee this morning. It's mild and silky on the tongue with a burst of strong coffee flavor on the back of the palate. I'm pretty sure that when I made it, my eyes were closed and I was sort of on automatic pilot, as I am most mornings, truth be told.
You know, there are certain routines one has when one gets up in the morning - a sure and certain defense against the drowsiness that those of us who aren't "Morning People" have - that guarantees that stuff gets done anyway.
I won't go into all the minutia of my routine but clearly, one of the first things I do is to put on the coffee. Then, while that's perking away, I do my morning ablutions, get dressed, make the bed, and get ready to throw back the first gulp of liquid gold before saying my prayers and meditating for a bit.
This morning, the coffee is especially good. And, I think, when that happens, you need to stop and sing a few praises for the amazing miracle of the coffee bean, and of cold, filtered water, and the wonders of electricity, and the engineering design of the coffee percolator, and the sound of coffee perking away while the laughing gulls sing their hosannas to the Lord and Creator of Life, which serves as a reminder to thank God again for this wee cottage on the back marshes of one of the many estuaries of the Delmarva Peninsula, which all combine to make the vibrant taste of a cup of hot coffee with its miraculous, restorative, and often medicinal powers.
It's important to do that, I think, especially in the morning when everything else for me is on autopilot and a whole day could go by without acknowledging the first miracle of the day: I'm up and, as the Jews pray, my soul has returned! And, after coffee, I've actually got most of my wits about me.
I think Cecily is right: I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple in a field somewhere and don't notice it. But I think it might also make God just a wee bit cranky not to notice the goodness of simple pleasures like a morning cup of coffee or tea or whatever your preferred morning beverage.
Meanwhile, over at the Lectionary Page, Jesus is telling the story about the Foolish Rich Man who thought he could store up all his riches on earth by building bigger storage bins. It's such a common human failing. We seem hot-wired to think that bigger really is better. That less is, well, less. And, that everything needs to be 'er' - stronger, better, faster.
Even more than that, we're conditioned to believe that if we don't want more, something is wrong with us. We're lazy ne'er-do-wells, who have no ambition. And, if we don't have more, we're less than and have no value as human beings.
Nothing brings this out more than the Lottery which, this week, was worth over a billion dollars. A. billion. Dollars.
I'll admit it: we bought a ticket. Yes, we did. Spent a whole five bucks. But first, we had to have a conversation about all the wonderful, noble things we'd do with the winnings You know, to justify throwing five whole dollars at the ridiculous odds of winning. I remember times - not so long ago -when we worried we would be $5 short to pay the rent.
It reminded me of something I read that Voltaire once said, "God is a comedian playing to an audience that is too afraid to laugh." And, Garrison Keillor, who probably actually read Voltaire, once said that "God writes a lot of comedy, but the trouble is that God is stuck with so many humans who are lousy comedy actors."
The preacher isn't preaching this morning. The Deacon is. It's hardly his first time in the pulpit but it is his first time up at bat at St. Paul's. He'll do that once a month, for which the preacher is deeply grateful. He's a good man and an experienced deacon. It will be fun to see what he has to say.
It's my last day in Facebook Time Out so if you want to catch the 10 AM service live, you'll have to watch it on Ms. Conroy's Facebook page. I'll post a link once we get home from church on Sirach 26:10 and St. Paul's Facebook page.
Please do take care. The COVID rate here in Delaware is now at 20% and the Public Health Officials are asking us to wear masks in crowded places. Ms. Conroy and I wore our masks to the movie theater yesterday. We'll be wearing them in church.
Yes, it's a pain but you know, if the choice is "Mask or Sick", I'm taking Mask every time. And, the third booster in September, before I leave for the Camino. Yes, I will.
Other than laughter and digestion, I think it's very important to take COVID seriously. This virus doesn't mess.
Make it a great day, everybody. There's never been a day quite like today ever before and there's never going to be one exactly like it ever again. So, get out there and enjoy!
And, as they say on the streets of Lisbon, Portugal, where I'll be on September 29th, “bom dia“ (good morning or hello - until 1 or 2 PM ), then it's “boa tarde“ (good afternoon), then, “boa noite”(good evening), or simply “olá“ (hi!).
1 comment:
Hilarious for a person who is "anonymous" to claim "there is no god." So, no, I didn't publish your comment. It went into the trash were all anonymous comments belong.
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