Leave your shoes

  

“Whenever I pass the majestic mosque in my city, I find myself wishing that we would emulate our Muslim neighbors who leave their shoes at the door. We can grow almost too comfortable and easy, almost casual in our relationship with the high-voltage God whom theologian Rudolf Otto termed “a tremendous and fascinating mystery.” But then I, who am happiest and most comfortable, most fully at home when I can slip off my shoes, wiggle my toes, and feel the ground underneath my feet, must wonder. Is the command from the bush a reminder to put us in our place, or is it an invitation to feel at home, to come closer without fear?”

–Margaret Guenther, Walking Home, p. 34

Leave your shoes at the door

 

“Whenever I pass the majestic mosque in my city, I find myself wishing that we would emulate our Muslim neighbors who leave their shoes at the door. We can grow almost too comfortable and easy, almost casual in our relationship with the high-voltage God whom theologian Rudolf Otto termed “a tremendous and fascinating mystery.” But then I, who am happiest and most comfortable, most fully at home when I can slip off my shoes, wiggle my toes, and feel the ground underneath my feet, must wonder. Is the command from the bush a reminder to put us in our place, or is it an invitation to feel at home, to come closer without fear?”

–Margaret Guenther, Walking Home, p. 34

Ash Wednesday Services Today

 

TS Eliot (1888–1965) Ash Wednesday

 TS Eliot (1888–1965)

Ash Wednesday (first stanza)

Because I do not hope to turn again
Because I do not hope
Because I do not hope to turn
Desiring this man's gift and that man's scope
I no longer strive to strive towards such things
(Why should the aged eagle stretch its wings?)
Why should I mourn
The vanished power of the usual reign?

Because I do not hope to know again
The infirm glory of the positive hour
Because I do not think
Because I know I shall not know
The one veritable transitory power
Because I cannot drink
There, where trees flower, and springs flow, for there is nothing again

Because I know that time is always time
And place is always and only place
And what is actual is actual only for one time
And only for one place
I rejoice that things are as they are and
I renounce the blessed face
And renounce the voice
Because I cannot hope to turn again
Consequently I rejoice, having to construct something
Upon which to rejoice

And pray to God to have mercy upon us
And pray that I may forget
These matters that with myself I too much discuss
Too much explain
Because I do not hope to turn again
Let these words answer
For what is done, not to be done again
May the judgment not be too heavy upon us

Because these wings are no longer wings to fly
But merely vans to beat the air
The air which is now thoroughly small and dry
Smaller and dryer than the will
Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still.

Pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death
Pray for us now and at the hour of our death.

From TS Eliot, Collected Poems 1909–1962 (London: Faber and Faber, 1963).

Ash Wednesday Services tomorrow

 

Celebration of Blessed Absalom Jones at Philadelphia Episcopal Cathedral

 

Lent and Holy Week Schedule 2023

 

Access Project at St. Mary's, Cathedral Road

 Access Project at St. Mary's, Cathedral Road

2 February 2023 ~ Presentation of our Lord

 

The Collect for The Presentation of our Lord: Almighty and everliving God, we humbly pray that, as your only-begotten Son was this day presented in the temple, so we may be presented to you with pure and clean hearts by Jesus Christ our Lord; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.   Saint Brigid of Kildare, Monastic, c. 523 (February 1) One of the most beloved Irish saints. Brigid assisted the poor, founded an early monastery for women, and actively participated in leadership and in policy-making decisions not only within her own monastic federation but also within church conventions.