Povey Prattle

American eastern coast states from Virginia all the way up to New York are being assailed by an early and major blizzard. The storm is expected to hit Connecticut and New York tomorrow. It’s been tough for those who live in northern Virginia, Washington D.C., and Maryland. Driving is dangerous, and many airports have been closed. Annapolis, MD reported 20 inches. There is some humour here. A friend in Maryland wrote (with affection) that her cross-dressing neighbour was shoveling snow in his cheer leader outfit . ‘Tis fortunate for most that this is a weekend storm. Fortunate for most, but not for all. Spare a thought for those retailers who have counted on sales during this weekend before Christmas to come out even. The paucity of shoppers will affect them deeply. Some will go out of business. Others will lay off workers. A “winter wonderland” is lovely enough, but it will spell desolation for some owners of retail businesses and their employees.

In the days when I was much more self-righteous and snotty than I am now (it’s not all gone), I would take pious delight in refusing invitations to parties during advent. That piety helped to mask the fact that my gregarious outer man masks a truly inner loner. I am a loner , but I have already been to two holiday parties this year. In both cases, right up until the moment I had leave my home I yearned for a sneeze which could be translated into a cold, and thus provide a great excuse not to attend. Today’s party was down in Venice and it was for the out gay men at my Church a.k.a.  “The Belles of St. Boniface”.    I’d hoped that my car would not start, or that it had a flat tyre. “No such luck” I muttered as I began the 25 mile ride to my hosts’ home in south Venice. Once there, I had a lovely time.  The hospitality was gracious, and the food was good.     (Not to rub it in for those of you who live in colder climes, but it is nice to be able ...

The recorded music which is broadcast at one of the local supermarkets has been telling me since mid-November that “Santa Claus is coming to town” , and that “ he knows when you’ve been naughty and he knows when you’ve been nice”. Santa has not yet arrived, and frankly, I am tired of being nice! What is it with cats? My junior cat Adelaide consistently ignores me. But she demands attention the moment I sit down in an armchair to read a book. On the other hand, my senior cat Ada will seek attention only when, (a) I am trying to nap on the sofa, or (b) when I am enthroned on the toilet. My next door neighbour is a very angry and hostile woman. I hear her frequently when she is yelling (and cursing) at the mail man, the landscapers, the UPS man, or the trash collectors --- or me. And I mean frequently. I can hear these angry diatribes from inside my house. Yesterday it was the turn of her care-giver who had done something wrong, or failed to do something right. My neighb...

The First United Methodist Church in Sarasota hosted its 7 th annual Christmas Banquet for homeless and needy people. It’s a classy affair. The tables are set with linen table cloths and good cutlery etc.  Each table has a magnificent and seasonal centre-piece –  a different one on each table -  made by church members in a friendly competition. Church members wait on tables, and the food is more than excellent:  turkey, ham, mashed potatoes, dressing (stuffing) and good vegetables – followed by excellent homemade desserts. The whole event runs like a well oiled machine. I estimate that there were close to 200 guests, served by about 50 volunteers. Congratulations to the members of First United Methodist Church, for this extraordinary hospitality. The event is as far from a “soup kitchen” as you could imagine. It is truly a banquet. My role was to “work the crowd” as folks lined up outside the Church.  Many arrived more than an hour before the Banquet be...

The Revd. John "Jack" Chrisman has enjoyed two careers. The first was in the U.S. Navy from which he retired as a Captain. The second was as a Priest in the Anglican Communion. He trained for the sacred ministry in England, then served parishes both there and in the U.S.A. Jack and his wife Donna washed up in second retirement on the shores of Sarasota. We have become good friends. Jack preached last Sunday at St. Boniface Church, Siesta Key where both he and I are Priest Associates. I was greatly "fed" by his sermon which is reproduced here (with his permission). jmp -------------------------------------------------------- SERMON BY THE REVD. JOHN "Jack"  CHRISMAN Holiness and madness -- like genius and insanity -- have traditionally been viewed as closely associated. It does not take any stretch of the imagination to see John the Baptist take his rightful place among those religious leaders who, by their radical relation...

I write at 9:40 p.m. on Monday 14 th December 2009. My home is so peaceful.  The cats, Adelaide and Ada are resting comfortably.  My dog, Penne has been a wonderful “friend” all day. The Florida weather has been most favourable, enabling Penne and I to take some lovely walks. I’ve done “normal” things - eating, shopping, laundering sheets and towels, visiting the library etc.. I also did some laundry and shopping for my good pal Ben (he is still relatively immobile following his ankle fracture). Later in the day my good friends Ron and Charlotte brought dinner to Ben’s home, and we feasted on their excellent fish soup and fabulous salad. Bob, another friend, joined us. I’ve wanted to say “God is in his heaven, all’s right with the world”. But the restless part of me has also been present.  Yes, it’s been a wonderful day. But it has also been a hellish day for so many people in so many places in our world. So, on this good day I have also meditated on Bob Dyla...

Soon after arriving at my parish Church this morning I scanned the service leaflet, and then let out a groan. I wanted to leave right away . That was not because of the congregation, or because of the ministers. My parish has a more or less lively congregation. It has superb ordained ministers. The parish prides itself on being “progressive”, and I have no quarrel with that. So, why did I want to leave? It was on account of the hymns for the day, which were anything but progressive . That’s not the fault of the parish. It’s the fault of the Episcopal Church hymnal. We opened with “On Jordan’s bank the Baptist’s cry” (Episcopal Hymnal #76), and ended with “The King shall come” (Episcopal Hymnal # 73). These two (predictable) Advent hymns share banal, prosaic and pedestrian texts; and dreary tunes. Neither of them has a word or melody which might excite the imagination. So we sing them on account of their familiarity. Indeed they are so familiar that we do not have ...

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