Incorporeal Works

Today was the feast of Pentecost, when the infusion of the Holy Spirit into the Disciples lent them eloquence in every language, the better to spread the Gospel. St. Paul’s was decked in liturgical scarlet, even to the dominant color of the altar flowers, with red balloons tethered to the first few pews in the nave.

For the second lesson, members of the congregation who were if not fluent, at least able to speak with appropriate accents, several languages, recited in turn the lesson from the Acts of the Apostles, recounting the wind of the Holy Spirit, and the confusion of those that heard the babel of languages coming from the fisher folk and common men that Jesus had chosen.

Continue reading ‘Pentecost’ »

I title this post with the original name of Memorial Day, the holiday which by federal decree is observed each year on the last Monday of May. Originally, Decoration Day, as it was titled, commemorated those who died fighting to preserve the Union during the Civil War, with the placing of flowers upon their graves. The date fixed was May 30, for no particular reason, as far as I know. One explanation I have heard is that by that date, flowers would be in bloom everywhere in the country. This Decoration Day was decreed by the head of the GAR, the Grand Army of the Republic, an association of Union veterans, and did not include Confederate dead.

Efforts throughout the South established Confederate Decoration Day, on dates that were as independent as the former rebellious states had shown themselves. Some dates were chosen to mark prominent Confederate heroes, such as Robert E. Lee and Stonewall Jackson. At least one, Virigina’s Decoration Day, was set on May 30, joining the Union observation.

By the turn of the century, Decoration Day was renamed Memorial Day, and eventually became a day to commemorate all fallen soldiers of any state in any war. General George Thomas, tasked by General Sherman after the battles in Chattanooga with establishing a military cemetery, selected a site close to Orchard Knob, where he, Grant and other generals had watched the displacement of the Confederate forces from Missionary Ridge, which resulted in victory.

Thomas was a native Virginian, who elected to remain loyal to the Union rather than fight for his state. This conviction, and his no doubt difficult relations with his former brother officers who felt otherwise, and went for the Confederacy, may have prompted his famous remark to his subordinates about the layout of graves at Chattanooga. Asked if the dead were to be grouped by their units, raised from each of their native states, Thomas reportedly said, “No, No, mix them all up. I’m sick of state’s rights.”

Thomas’s view was not shared in regard to the Confederate dead, and no rebels were buried in the Chattanooga Cemetery to my knowledge. Only after the first World War were all the dead of all the wars commemorated together on Memorial Day. I hope that a few old Confederates may have rested with their adversaries at Chattanooga at last. There is a Confederate Cemetery out at Silverdale, east of Chattanooga, kept up by the Chattanooga Area Relic and Historical Association.

May all the dead who died loyal to their notion of duty, and to the country they loved, be remembered every day, holiday or not.

Hammered out on the anvils of life by forces we cannot fathom, our spirits fail, our strength ebbs, we see no way out. We have all been at such a place, we will be again, this grim darkness is part of life. We, ourselves, must find some help, at any cost, or sink.

For many, religion is the frame and support making sense of pain and suffering and loss. Grace is what we call the measureless well of heartlift and support, that in Christianity is the free gift conveyed by Jesus, through his free sacrifice to the things of this world which are evil. Those things we cannot bear he provides a way to bear, a way to lift ourselves out of little pilgrim’s Slough of Despair.

Continue reading ‘Instruments of Grace’ »

The collapse of the economy in many areas has affected budgets private, corporate and governmental. Lack of money is an absolute, making cuts across all strata of society necessary, so hard choices and reduced standards are inevitable. All reductions in costs, especially in those levels of society with the fewest resources and greatest needs, are not necessarily actual reductions. Sometimes cuts in services by government simply shift the costs into areas not as recognizable as taxes or fees.

Continue reading ‘Trading Costs’ »

Sometimes, when dealing with persons suffering from severe mental illness, those in the mental health field find themselves swept into the psychological battlefield that is the mind of their patient. Such a thing happened to my wife the other night. A new arrival at the hospital suddenly lunged at Babs, who was dealing with another patient - it was a busy night. Grabbing Barbara by the hair and throwing her to the ground, the patient was immediately restrained by security personnel.  Barbara was very shaken, her elbow was bleeding, some of her hair was torn out and her head and shoulder had hit the floor with force.

I answered the phone shortly afterwards at home, to hear a tone in my wife’s voice that immediately alerted me to something wrong. When Barbara told me what had happened, I told her I was coming to pick her up and taking her to the doctor. She vetoed this idea, said she was not that badly hurt. Almost an hour later, after nurses at the hospital had looked at her injuries and insisted, Babs called me back and I went. We spent an hour and some at an emergency room, the X-rays showed nothing broken, just some apparent deep contusions in her shoulder and back. Drugs and a prescription were issued, we went home and two days later Barbara is still in pain. Shortly she will go to a bone specialist for follow-up.

For as many years as Barbara has worked with mentally ill people, this was the first physical violence she has suffered. Collateral damage in the internal wars that torment so many of the tortured souls for whom she has such great empathy. She will go back to work tomorrow, pending the doctor’s verdict. Barbara continues to love her work. Many, many people she has touched with her compassion and knowledge have benefitted. I hope there is no more violence in her future.

Words are weak when trying to honor the veterans, those still living, and those gone on the Long March before their comrades. Found this video of Vets at the World War II Memorial.

The Tremont Tavern provides on Sunday evenings a venue for a floating assortment of Irish/Gaelic musicians who jam for a couple of hours,

Irish traditional music

with fiddle, guitar, bodhrán (Irish drum) and assorted other instruments.

There are musicians from a local band, Ólta, which come and go with other participants. The first picture shows several of the more regular participants, only one of whom, Robbie, the fiddler with his back to the camera, is known to me.

The music is lively, melodic and rendered with care and enthusiasm. A good way to wind down the weekend.

Lady playing Irish Bouzouki

A couple of more pictures of participants, Robbie, fiddle player, and a woman whose name I lost, playing a stringed instrument called an Irish Bouzouki. The name may not sound Irish, but the music does.

Robbie

I just learned that many of the players in this Sunday session are members of the Chattanooga Irish Session, with a Facebook global page, linked to their name here.

I just read today’s blog entry by the country doc, bluegrass musician and writer Dr. Tom Bibey. He describes a bluegrass jam some years ago held in a field somewhere in North Carolina, the Bomb Shelter - a  “you can’t get there from here” sort of place. Wonderful description of arriving at night for the session:

We parked the truck in the field, and walked down towards the Shelter.  Jack and the boys had a bonfire going in a fifty gallon drum.  The fire crackled and the sparks drifted up and disappeared in the night air.

Makes you feel you are there. Good writing. Doc is looking for a publisher for a book he has written, The Mandolin Case, a book I hope to buy and read someday. His blog entry today reminds me of a memorable time in my life, listening to bluegrass in a similar place - I have no skill at music, just enjoy the results of those who have worked to perfect their talents. My own efforts to play anything were sad, but did result in my sister taking over the Martin guitar I had bought in an overly enthusiastic moment; she did the guitar proud.

Continue reading ‘Bluegrass on Starr Mountain’ »

After almost nine months of economic decay, collapse of large financial institutions, continuing job losses, foreclosures, bankruptcies and oh, yes, war in Afghanistan threatening Pakistan, a nuclear power, the key issues for Republicans and Democrats to debate are torture and the closing of the Guantanamo mini-Gulag.

Although President Obama and former Vice-President Cheney were not on the same platform, their television addresses last night covered those issues as though they were point-counterpoint.

Continue reading ‘Caring for the Country’ »

Yesterday and today my Beloved and I noted the approach and arrival of our three-month anniversary; we were married three months ago today. We agree that life is good. Still settling into a routine of married folks who come  home to the same house each day, without having to wonder if we are due at the other’s place that night.

Unpacking my junk and rearranging furniture and shelving books and hanging clothes and  shoveling out miscellaneous papers still occupy us, with slow progress. But we have the rest of our lives together to shape a home and a routine that suits us.

Happy anniversary, Sweetheart, I don’t deserve this happiness but gladly seize it daily. Love, love, love and love in overplus.