AKMA’s Random Thoughts

I took an easier run this morning, almost a minute slower than. yesterday. Hot breakfast, shower, Morning Prayer, public office hours at R&R, work on Sunday’s sermon, back home to have a bite before an afternoon funeral.

A good run, best time but one since late April, then coffee and fruit, shower, Morning Prayer, more work on the Almanac (matching memorials to calendars, encountering some mystery benefactors). One of the non-mysterious memorialised forebears in faith is Geoffrey Barbour, for whom a brass is dedicated.

Not only did Bailiff Barbour go partners in building the bridge over the Thames, he left generous provision for the town clergy of Abingdon (in 1417, the Abbey was doing very well for itself). ‘He gave unto a priest ten pounds, thirteen shillings, and fourpence to go on pilgrimage to Roome, and procession there to make at twelve several times, and also to celebrate there six masses at the altar of St. Gregory, six masses at Scala Cæli, for his soul and the soul of Joan his wife, and for the souls of his parents and all the faithful deceased. Also, he gave four hundred pounds to hire and procure priests, as long as that would last, who should say Mass in the Church of St. Helen’s, in Abingdon, for his soul & the souls of all the faithful departed; except 2 priests that should say Mass in the Church of St. Nicholas, who should receive either of them for his yearly stipend 8 marks.’ (Francis Little, A Monument of Christian Munificence, ed. Cobham (Parker and Co., 1871), pp. 7-8.) They don’t make legacies like they used to…

Then in the evening, I had a bespoke online Marriage Preparation session with a couple whose wedding will be held at St Helen’s. Another day, another adventure in pastoral ministry.

I took a determined run this morning, pushing through the joint and muscle stiffness and the hay fever itchy eyes and gasping, but I shaved a half minute to get closer to an old plateau. Then coffee and fruit, a shower, Morning Prayer, then back to the house for another cup and some toast. Rest of the day, working on a St Helen’s Almanac with the Sanctoral Calendar and dates of Departed parishioners memorialised in the church.

Hot day, back into the 30s.

A few years ago, somebody with the email address ‘geneeques@yahoo.ca’ left a comment here about my relatives, the Adams (not ‘Adamses’, although the vagaries of spelling may have blurred the lines between Adams and Adamses around the seventeenth century) of Boghouse and Bowfield. If anyone knows how to get in touch with that person (the email address gets no response) or anything about the Adams of Boghouse or Bowfield (or both!), please send me a line.

Here I am, back in Abingdon, feeling mostly back in church mode. I ran this morning, coming in at a time below my five-day rolling average. I’m stiff in odd joints and muscles, presumably from walking up and down Durham (my phone gave me credit for climbing 31 flights of stairs Friday. I doubt it was that many, but the phone may have been counting flight-equivalent changes in altitude.

Yesterday’s train travel went very smoothly. At the platform, I had a good old catch-up conversation with Mikeal Parsons (we had seen each other on and off throughout the conference, but hadn’t recognised one another; Mikel noted that he had repeatedly spotted a distinguished-looking gentleman’, but of course that couldn’t have been me). We recalled old days when we were the threats to the nature of meaning and the practice of responsible exegesis. We especially rejoiced at the reception given Michal Beth Dinkler’s plenary paper. (Mikeal had done some work with her in the past, whereas I knew her only literarily.) Chatted with David Horrell at the station. too, and in the days before leaving had been hanging out with the Garrick Allen-Kelsie Rodenbiker Axis, meeting various colleagues for the first time, greeting again longer-term friends. The ‘Beyond “Within Judaism”’ Seminar had a particularly strong series of papers, from Ruben Bühner on ‘prophetic othering’ in 1 Thes (response from Matt Novenson), Nathanel Vette on Mark’s Judaism (response from his approving Doktormutter Helen Bond; Nathanel’s usage of ‘Mark’s Judaism’ so as to avoid the implication of ‘coming from outside’ that ‘within’ implies, and thereby also emphasising the elasticity and variegated capaciousness of 1stC Judaism met with general affirmation), and Hugo Méndez — branching out from his provocative extended argument that the Johannine corpus is pseudonymous through and through — on Revelation (response by Lynn Huber). On the first evening, Margaret Aymer Oget and I had a welcome long conversation. And others, too, through the conference (Clarissa Breu! Beverly and Bill Gaventa! Mark Goodacre, Jamie Davies, Paula Fredriksen, Crispin Fletcher-Louis, Madison Pierce! Nathanael! Loveday and Philip Alexander, Sanuel and Judith Lieu, Markus Bockmuehl, Peter Head, Paul Anderson): a splendid time was had with all. But where was Paul Middleton? It hardly counts as a conference without him.

Then before the last item on the timetable, the closing banquet, I was delighted that my schedule placed me at the Cathedral Church of Christ, Blessed Mary the Virgin and St Cuthbert of Durham to hear the choir of Trinity Episcopal Cathedral of Portland OR lead Evensong. After the service, I had the chance for an all-too-quick visit with the Almost Very Revd (Subdean) Shana McCauley, one of my wonderful former students from Seabury days. And at the banquet I was sat with Greg Sterling, the Dean of Yale Divinity, to whom I enthused about his exceptional faculty (singling out especially Willie Jennings).

With all that socialising, I slept like an innocent while I was in Durham, and felt zombified by the time I got home. But as Continuing Ministerial Development goes, it was smashing.

Breakfast this morning, then I board the train back from Durham to Oxford. I had a chance to chat with Seabury graduate the almost-Very Revd Shana McCauley (Subdean of Trinity Episcopal Cathedral in Portland, OR) at Evensong last… evening, a delicious, carefully-wrought dinner (vegetarian, while avoiding my tomato allergy) on the concluding night of the SNTS conference, and another good night’s sleep.

Yesterday Flora had more teeth extracted, and Margaret brought her home soporific and miserable, poor dear (Flora, not Margaret).

But this afternoon, I rejoin Margaret at home and (like Odysseus) sleep in my own bed. Not sure what I’m going to do about any suitors, especially without any of my progeny about to serve as accomplices.

As so often at conferences, there’s hardly time to breathe between conversations, sessions, plenaries, seminars… but I am here, in Durham, having deeply stimulating conversations and hearing illuminating presentations, and looking forward to having time to follow some of them up with reading, email exchanges, and eventually writing.

Further, the cruel heat has broken, and the temperatures are hovering in the mid- to low 20°s, and there was even a tiny bit of rain yesterday night. As we used to say in the family my father and his second wife confected, ‘A Christmas miracle!’

The school at St Thomas’s, New Haven, used to observe a Thursday Hymn Day in our daily chapel service, and the first grade/Year One students used to request, every week, week after week, ‘I’m On My Way’. That’s by way of noting that I post this morning from the Oxford rail station, headed to Durham for the SNTS meeting. I’ve already got my morning miles in without running, though, by forgetting my backpack on my way to the bus stop in Abingdon. I now have brisk-walked further than I typically run in the morning, and I haven’t even gotten to my destination. Will check in as and when.

I jogged this morning, which will affect my rolling average for five days but was worth it for just not overdoing my exercise regimen. Coffee, fruit, email, shower, public office hours at R&R, looking ahead to my week in Durham at the SNTS meeting (thank you, Continuing Ministry Development time). More email.

The drought is a terrible plague and fire threat, but it makes packing for a conference simpler.

I should add that after my post about ear buds, JLab has offered to replace the faulty pair. If that offer holds, I will report back to my blog, and it will resolve the ‘ear hook for secure exercise vs. lighter, higher quality music reproduction’ binary alternative I had been facing; I’ll happily listen at lower quality while I’m running, and will opt for higher quality sound when riding on the train or bus, or sitting in a cafe.

I ran my morning miles at a plateau pace first thing this morning, then made a hot breakfast, showered, and settled in to work on finishing tomorrow’s sermon. That took the morning; and I’ve spent this afternoon working on my holy-card drawing and colouring. If I go very, very slowly I can make images that aren’t ludicrously crude. I’m wavering on whether to buy a graphics tablet to take pressure off drawing on the trackpad with my finger. Truly, finger-painting is not the most satisfactory approach to simulating chromolithographs with image editing software.

Around the days of Lockdown, I ordered a pair of ear buds — probably so that I could rock out while in the dining room with Margaret without distracting or annoying her (I had to find different ways to annoy her). They worked all right. They were better and lasted longer than I expected, but their battery life got shorter and shorter, and a few months ago they quit altogether.

So I poked around and decided to give the JLab Go Sport+ buds a try. I was very pleased by the ear hooks — these buds might get restless, but those hooks would keep them in place come hell or high water (given my neighbourhood’s flood risk and this summer’s multiple heat waves, I have to consider both alternatives). The sound was meh, but I wanted them mostly as a stopgap between places I could comfortably wear real headphones or play through open speakers. I’d have continued wearing them with mild satisfaction except that one of the buds stopped charging. I’m not certain whether the fault involves the bud or the charging case, but either way I got tired of listening in mono. (I’d submit them for warranty replacement, but the shipping charges, to and from, will amount to more than the cost of replacing them; Cory Doctorow has a word for that).

Once again conducting online investigation, I noticed some JLab users suggesting the Anker/Soundcore p30i buds as an alternative. I ordered a pair, and they sound much better than the JLabs. They don’t have ear hooks, which circumstance makes me apprehensive, but they’re inexpensive enough that I’m willing to take the risk. I haven’t tested the noise-cancelling setting under demanding conditions, but for that price I’m content if it doesn’t make matters worse. I switched to the small earplugs, listened for a while, napped yesterday afternoon with them in, ran with them yesterday and today, and although they are less secure than ear-hooked buds, I can live with wearing them cautiously. So far, so worthwhile.

I got a good night’s sleep, allowed myself a leisurely pace on my morning run, enjoyed my coffee and fruit before church, had a good shower, went to Morning Prayer, picked up some groceries, home for coffee and toast (including marmalade that was one of the groceries), and have been poking away at the sermon for Sunday’s observance of St James’s Day.

I ran my morning miles at a plateau-busting pace, my best time since the beginning of May (before even the Bannister Mile). Then I settled down for coffee and fruit, shower, fed the dogs, and shortly will head out for Morning Prayer after which I’ll return, make coffee and toast, and contemplate my sermon for St James the Great. Don’t tell anyone, but I have no appointments today.

There were several, erm, unexpected (though not entirely unpredictable) developments during yesterday’s wedding, but it all happened and it’s legal and the happy couple are on their way to wedded bliss, so that concluded yesterday’s excitement. Apart, that is, from my regular Tuesday phone appointment. The morning baptism preparation meeting went very well, and we had two visitors for Morning Prayer, which was lovely.

This morning I ran to so precise a plateau pace that it didn’t deflect my five-day rolling average at all. I forgot to make a hot breakfast until I was already settled with coffee and fruit, so I’ll just give it a miss this Wednesday. That’s me — living on the edge. Morning Prayer and Staff Meeting, and heaven permitting, that’s all the assigned work for the day (there’ll no doubt be some email flying around, but such is life in the 21st century).

On my ‘day off’, I ran my morning miles to a good time (almost the same time as my last two runs, which spells ‘p-l-a-t-e-a-u’ in my book). Coffee and fruit, showered and dressed, Morning Prayer, a second cup at Costa to talk to my baptismal candidate, picked up a sandwich deal at the Co-op, then to St Helen’s for the wedding we rehearsed last evening, then home for an online appointment.

But I think the ‘off’ part of the day has begun, and I’m unwinding with Margaret.

I walked-ran this morning, not pushing myself for any particular time, just making sure I got my miles in. Then I made coffee and ate my fruit, cleaned up and dressed, joined Morning Prayer, held public office hours at R&R while working on a sermon for tomorrow’s wedding, picked up groceries at Waitrose, came home, finished the newsletter cover piece, and now am preparing for this evening’s wedding rehearsal.

I fell behind in reading RSS feeds, with the predictable feed-debt-guilt, so I missed a couple of weeks of Dave and Chris (especially) and Alan Jacobs. I think I have satisfactorily shriven myself, and I have a plan for dealing with future backlogs, so I may be better gin weeks to come. And if any of the rest of the old gang picks up again, I’ll try to find and add them.

I ran this morning, just a tiny bit (a few seconds) off my recent plateau pace. Coffee and fruit, shower, coffee and toast, print the sermon (it’s going to get nae better, now), and board the X3 to Oxford. Margaret and I arrived in good time to stop for tea (Margaret; I’d already had enough) and to give a quick look at the sermon to find on-the-spot improvements.

It was too didactic in the original recension, so much of yesterday involved recasting it into more properly homiletical style. That seems to have helped, for Fr Jonathan and many in the congregation thanked me for the sermon. We joined in the patronal lunch-feast, then bused back down to Abingdon, breathed deeply, and put our feet up.

Continue reading “There We Are”

Ran to a good pace, coffee and hot breakfast, then the rest of the day spent banging into shape the sermon for tomorrow’s patronal feast at St Mary Magdalene’s, Oxford — Margaret’s parish church. Honestly, all day: type a little, groan, squeeze my eyes shut, type a few more words, take out a section, add perhaps three words, squeeze eyes shut. Repeat as necessary.

Woke up too early this morning after talking with Damian and Fiona late into the night — what a blessing they are! Ran my miles at a plateau pace (i.e., just about my rolling average), coffee and fruit, shower, Morning Prayer, home for coffee and toast, and it’ll be reading and writing for most of the rest of the day, as far as I foresee.