Will Duquette became a Roman Catholic a while back, and now he’s uncovering his inner Benedictine monk. Make that oblate, not monk.

Some while ago, Jane had picked up a book, rather on a whim, called Monk Habits for Ordinary People, by a Presbyterian minister named Dennis Okholm. Okholm has, rather surprisingly, for twenty years been an oblate of Blue Cloud Abbey, a Benedictine monastery in South Dakota, and his purpose in writing the book was to make Benedictine spirituality accessible to other Protestants. I’d glanced at it at the time, but no more than that; a couple of days ago Jane reminded me of it, and I more or less devoured it.

Andrée Seu writes, “What I believe about whether McCain, Clinton, Huckabee, Obama, or Romney will be President has some — but very little — bearing on my spirits as I go about my work. What I believe about God’s attitude toward me colors every transaction — like an eyedropper of food coloring in a cup of water that permeates completely.”

“But you, O LORD, are a shield about me, my glory, and the lifter of my head.” Psalm 3:3 ESV

The weekend went as per my previous announcement. I spent it in bed or on the couch, trying to get past this latest rampaging rhinovirus. I canceled two things I’d planned to do. One of them turned out to be fairly important in regard to the situation of one of my old friends, though no one had bothered to tell me that until after I’d decided I couldn’t go. Nevertheless, the theme of the weekend was Bad Cold, plus Bad Conscience.

Today is Shrove Monday, and tomorrow is Shrove Tuesday. The “shrove” refers to the sacrament of confession and absolution—getting shriven. One was (I suppose still is, in several communions) expected to go to confession and be shriven in preparation for the forty day fast of Lent.

In Norwegian they call it Fetetirsdag, which corresponds to the French Mardi Gras, or “Fat Tuesday.” That less spiritual-sounding name rises from the fact that all red meat was forbidden during the Lenten fast. It was considered a sin even to have animal fat in your house during that period. So people would feast on all the fat that was laying around. Fat-free diets were not fashionable (or safe) in those days, when food was harder to get than it is now. You didn’t just pitch something that could provide nutrition, especially late in the winter. If you couldn’t have it in the kitchen, you wanted to carry it around on your waist with you. It would help you get through Lent.

Pancakes were a popular food for using up the fat, which is why pancakes are traditionally associated with Shrove Tuesday. Sexual relations were also forbidden in Lent, which, I suppose, accounts for Mardi Gras and Carnivale.

In many churches people still fast for Lent. It’s rare, I think, for anyone to do a real, old-fashioned, no-meat-or-meat-products-at-all plus no sex Lent anymore, one where you actually drop a lot of weight, but many people give up some indulgence—chocolate or ice cream or booze.

Many Lutherans do it too, but that isn’t part of my pietist tradition. Also I’m afraid I wouldn’t hold out, and I’d have something new to feel guilty about.

Anyway, I already don’t drink, and I have no sex life. I’m way ahead of most Lenten fasters any day of the year. Maybe I should fast from fasting during Lent. It would be hard, but good for…

No.

Again Bill meditates on strong truth: “In the Bible hope is strong, it is virile, it is tough. Hope is a warrior. Hope sees the victory, before the battle has even begun. Hope bursts forth, the fruit of suffering that has produced endurance and a character strong enough to hope. . . . Hope charges the bunkers of despair, hope outflanks its lines, hope takes the enemy camp. Hope is the flag raised on the Mount Suribachi of our fears, and hope doesn’t give heed to the bullets.”

Do not be afraid, but rejoice in the hope the Lord has for us. “Be Thou my battle Shield, Sword for the fight.”

Bill has had a moment–you know, one of those epiphany things. “I read a glowing tribute to the movie It’s a Wonderful Life a while ago (and that’s one of my favorite movies), and, apropos of almost nothing, the author of the tribute said that he believed people would be watching that movie long after Christianity is forgotten. . . . ” As if.

Since I’m on a roll with this anti-unity argument (by the way, what do you have when you don’t have unity? You have diversity. That’s a good thing, right?), I’ll extend it with some remarks on the subject of Christian unity. The opinions expressed below are my own, and do not represent the views of Brandywine Books, its employees or parent corporation, or of real persons, living or dead.

It may be different for those of you not connected to “mainline” denominations (so called because their leaders either use intravenous drugs or act as if they do), but for those of us who are so connected, it’s hard to go a week without hearing or reading some lament about “the shameful lack of unity within the Christian church,” or even “the sin of disunity in the church.”

The Fred Scuttle principle applies here, just as in politics. Fred’s idea of “popular prices” is prices he likes. The ecumenists’ (that’s the name for people who promote institutional Christian unity) idea of reconciliation is a world-wide church that runs precisely along the lines they approve of.

This is the part they never talk about. Their proposals are all very touch-feely, very kum-ba-ya. They include very few concrete proposals at first.

Because somebody’s got to give up something. I believe in congregational church government (that’s odd for a Lutheran, but I belong to an odd Lutheran group). My Catholic friend (I have at least one) believes strongly in episcopal government (that means bishops call the shots). Continue reading Fred Scuttle eclesiology →

The temperature was subzero and bitter this morning when I went to work, but it eased gradually through the day. Didn’t get as warm as the forecast promised, but tomorrow is supposed to be in the teens, and we may actually see a little melt over the weekend.

This is the point where we say to ourselves, “Maybe this will be the last hard siege of the winter. Maybe it’ll be uphill from here.”

This is pure self-delusion, but self-delusion is one of the coping devices that permit us to live in this part of the country.



Today’s subject: “Bringing us all together.” One of the presidential candidates (let’s call him, oh, Baback Orama) made a speech about wanting to bring all Americans together. Dennis Prager pounced on it and has been jumping on it off and on ever since. I thought I’d comment too, because it’s a general subject I’ve been thinking about for a long time.

I first started noticing this, if I remember correctly, while watching how the news media reported on religion. Every time a liberal was elected to the leadership of a denomination, it was treated as a straight story. “Dr. Bozo, a world-renowned expert on Syro-Phoenician gerunds, has a disarming sense of humor, plays the harmonium, and is well-liked both by supporters and opponents.” That sort of thing. Continue reading Fred Scuttle politics →