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 I suspected the Parish Life Committee had an ulterior motive when they recruited me as a member. Well, they’ve inveigled me into doing “write ups” for them in the newsletter. I must say I’m rather flattered. They obviously like my writing style. Anyway, here goes: The summer is over and it’s time to get down . . . → Read More: Give us your time and we’ll give you supper I don’t mean to be picky, but I really donʼt think the folks who run the newsletter have given a fair shake to that great classical actor Howard Burnham, who is coming here at 7 PM on Tuesday, September 27th, to present another one of his terrific one–man shows. This time heʼs giving us the . . . → Read More: It’s time to give Howard Burnham a fair shake! The English are practical people and their church buildings have traditionally served secular ends as well as spiritual needs. Weather and time, for example, are age–old human preoccupations. Long before the advent of television and radio, townspeople and country folk felt a need to keep a close eye on both, and, in the days before . . . → Read More: There isn’t much dignity being called a “weagle” Forget about pride, envy, gluttony, et al. Over the past three decades, the Seven Deadly Sins have gotten as outmoded as last summer’s beachwear. They have been replaced with an all–embracing pantheon of sins against which the whole gamut of ancient of sins pales into insignificance. I’ve seen a lot in my two centuries or . . . → Read More: Hurricane Irene and a new theology of sin Three rousing cheers for chorister Dean Olsen Philip, who has been elevated to the rank of Eagle Scout. He was formally honored for the achievement at an Eagle Scout Court of Honor at St. John Lutheran Church, New Freedom, Pennsylvania, last Sunday, August 21st. Dean is not only a member of St. Stephen’s Choir of . . . → Read More: Congratulations, Dean—from one eagle to another There’s nothing new about howling mobs of rioting Brits. In my youth, a couple of centuries ago, London’s riots were legendary. Mark you, the British weren’t as squeamish about dealing with them as they are today. At Apsley House, the London residence of the Duke of Wellington, the pillars on the top floor were once . . . → Read More: Time to read the Riot Act The Rector’s article in this week’s newsletter is a bit on the dense side for my taste. It needs a German joke or two to enliven it—like the one I heard from my Austrian cousin Eugen Adler: Three Bavarians are drinking in a beer hall when a Prussian, uninvited, sits at their table. The . . . → Read More: A salty tale from Austria Typical of the clergy, isn’t it? Just because you don’t squawk about how much you know, they assume you’re half–witted. I’ll bet the rector has a pokerwork sign in his study that reads: “Don’t underestimate yourself. Let me do it for you.” Okay, so I haven’t been to college, but if you hang around churches . . . → Read More: The adventures of an unemployed eagle |
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