AKMA’s Random Thoughts

We woke up early this morning to get to Kansas City in time for the first of our three flights homeward. Ours left a little late, so that we were cutting it close for our flight to Boston. Oua ground holdr flight out of Baltimore was slightly delayed, though, so we got there in good time — except that as soon as the plane rolled away from the terminal, we encountered a ground hold due to wind and lightning. Sure enough, we experienced both on-the-ground wind shaking the craft, and flashes of lightning.
After more than three hours on the ground, we were finally cleared for departure to Boston, with fading hopes of making our departure for Heathrow. Once again luckily, it turns out that bad weather in Baltimore was correlated to bad weather approaching Boston, so the plane had been delayed out of Logan. (Unluckily for us, while we were navigating over Rhode Island, I think, we hit a band of seriously choppy turbulence. Eeuuurgh…. But luckily for us, the plane held firm despite being tossed two or three feet up and down, so cheers to the Boeing engineers.) We grabbed a cursory dinner in the BA Lounge, and hurried to our gate to board for the overnight, arriving in Heathrow in the morning and staggering to the Airline bus to Oxford in good time. We were home again. Zzzzzzz….

(Inflight film viewing: to the US, A Complete Unknown, Captain America: Brave New World, and on the way back A Working Man and The Room Next Door. I’m pretty sure I watched at least one more, but without a list of options I can’t recall which. Ed Norton stole Complete Unknown from Chalamet, liked it a fair amount; The Room Next Door was deliberative, and Tilda Swinton was Tilda Swinton, and it was not as deep as it aspired to be, but it was more patient and less arm-twisty than many other versions might have been.)

Today we spent most of the day with a seminary pal of mine from olden times. Before we connected with him, we walked to the church he planted, checking it out for signs of his leadership (clue: we didn’t see any). Then we went to a meeting with him, then to his home to meet his dogs and to talk Old People’s Theology till we got sleepy.

Farewell, Maine!

‘Should fate unkind send us to roam
The scent of the fragrant pines,
The tang of the salty sea will call us home.’

Next stop, Lawrence, Kansas.

We visited Pippa’s classroom at MDI High School, and looked around the rest of the school (especially the library), meeting some of her colleagues. Lydia and Tom weren’t sure they understood why they mightn’t take books out of this library.

Then we checked out the Oceanarium, where we examined a complete humpback whale skeleton and met several lobsters of different colours. We watched feeding time at the Touch Tank, though we did not avail ourselves of the opportunity to touch hungry crabs, sea stars, and lobsters.

Winding up with a stop at Bar Harbor for lunch, where Margaret found a pair of trainers to replace the ones she wore out with all the walking.

In the morning, we went to the Schoodic Education and Research Centre and took a small hike through the woods, then made out way to the shore.

After that, we went home. Resting and socialising in the afternoon; Nate left southbound before too late.

In the morning, a delegation (including children) went to Tidal Falls, a reversing tidal rapid in the next town north of Sullivan. We saw some sea stars in their own habitat, and some mud, and some kelp.

On the way home, we stopped at the Sullivan-Sorrento Recreation Centre to celebrate the 25th anniversary of the Schoodic National Scenic Byway, where the Thrift Store had no used fountain pens (they did have a packaged calligraphy set, but I opted not to enter a discussion about why that might not of great interest to a fountain pen accumulator).

Then home, for a relaxing afternoon and evening.

First of all: Library.

Second: Thunder Hole, a visit to which constitutes a family tradition, and which was appropriately timed for maximum effect (somewhat before high tide).

Then, home for a cookout with the fam.

(a) This is Margaret’s and my 43rd wedding anniversary, an elegantly prime anniversary (if not a particularly appealing number in any other particular way).

(b) Today we travel from Portland to Sullivan, Maine; Si, Laura, Thomas, and Lydia will pick us up at Helen and Marc’s home, whither we go up Route One to connect again with Pippa and Dyer in Sullivan. It has been a long day for the Indianapolis branch of the family — their flight was late out of Indy, obliging them to dash from end to end of BWI in time to catch their flight to Portland. All navigated the long travel day with as much grace as one could expect of their ages, almost always showing even greater grace.

From Providence to Portland, Maine, where we settled in before a visit to our friends from undergraduate days, Helen and Marc. (I don’t have photos from these days, because my phone was no longer functioning (as I noted before) and I hadn’t unpacked Margaret’s camera (that I was using, because in a classic instance of bad timing and carelessness, I had failed to bring the cable that connects my camera to my MacBook).

Goodbye, Boyd and Holly; hello, Helen and Marc!

Safely in Providence, Rhode Island, with our dear friends Holly and Boyd, including visits with Anna and Jenesis. Appointment at the Apple Store midday, where the workers ruefully acknowledged that they didn’t have a screen in stock — but helpfully ran diagnostics that indicate that the screen is the only problem.

When I checked in and dropped my suitcase at Heathrow, I used the boarding pass on my phone, which was still functional despite the cracked screen. When, minutes later, I needed to show my boarding pass at security, the screen on my phone started strobing and turned a noxious shade of green. So much for limping along with a cracked screen.

Yesterday was the 39th anniversary* of my ordination as deacon (fr. Greek diakonos, a servant, a menial, sometimes a messenger) in the Diocese of Pittsburgh of the Episcopal Church, the US branch office of the Church of England. Since then, I’ve served in seven other dioceses, three provinces (US, Scotland, England), and I’ll skip over how many parishes and congregations. And as a teacher in theological institutions…

A ‘deacon’, in Anglican polity, is an order proper unto itself and an order that affords stepwise growth in ministry toward ordination to the priesthood. People get snappish about whether that’s the way things ought to be, or whether ordinands should be made priests directly on the end of their training. I respect the vocation of deacons who understand their calling to focus strictly on diaconal ministry; at the same time, I wouldn’t want us to ordain clergy to priestly orders who had never spent time as a deacon. In many respects, diaconal service comprises the greatest part of a priest’s ministry: pastoral care, visiting, bringing the sacrament to people who can’t get to church, proclaiming the faith, cooperating with the bishop, paperwork and committee meetings. Likewise, a teacher’s work partakes of the diaconal — a lot of pastoral care (conducting lectures and seminars with a view to the well-being and success, particularly, of weaker students or students whose situations and constitution make them less than fully receptive to learning, as well as consolation, counsel, guidance in one’s office). I hesitate to make big public pronouncements about my identity ‘as a deacon’ ’cos that tends to function as a kind of self-aggrandising humility; no, I’m a priest and a deacon, and the ‘priest’ part plays a more prominent public role most of the time, and I thank God for that calling.

But I am thankful for thirty-nine years of serving in diaconal ways, maybe even more thankful, since that service often flies under the radar. ‘Have a tissue, that’s why they’re sitting there.’ ‘May I try to explain it again?’ ‘I’m glad you have time for me this morning; thank you for the tea and biscuits.’ ‘Well, someone has to do it.’ And I give thanks for the colleagues, friends, students, congregants, care home residents, bishops, committees, and everyone else who received and supported my ministry. As always, I know keenly that I could have served more fully, more diligently, and I don’t presume on your forgiveness; I try to try harder, and sometimes I do better.

It appertaineth to the office of a Deacon, in the Church where he shall be appointed to serve, to assist the Priest in Divine Service, and specially when he ministereth the holy Communion, and to help him in the distribution thereof, and to read holy Scriptures and Homilies in the Church; and to instruct the youth in the Catechism; in the absence of the Priest to baptize infants; and to preach, if he be admitted thereto by the Bishop. And furthermore, it is his office, where provision is so made, to search for the sick, poor, and impotent people of the Parish, to intimate their estates, names, and places where they dwell, unto the Curate, that by his exhortation they may be relieved with the alms of the Parishioners, or others. Will you do this gladly and willingly?

I will so do, by the help of God.

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* A pretty awkward number, isn’t it? I mean, 3 x 13 is good, but really you can tell just by looking that it wants to rush ahead to forty.