I am very surprised by the continuing emotionalism of the defenders of the Wren Chapel cross who are writing in to the Virginia Gazette. I am very sorry that their emotionalism causes them to be unchristian, in their personal attacks on College president Gene Nichol and even (in today's paper) his wife. For myself, I admire what Gene Nichol is doing (in many arenas, not only in this isolated instance) to make the College hospitable to students of all faiths and cultures. Indeed, as I understand it, the desire to increase that hospitality is one reason why the College's Board of Visitors brought him here.

What is it about this cross? As an object, it is entirely unremarkable. It was available through any church supply catalog. It might still be. It was the standard issue cross in many Protestant (not Catholic) churches in the middle part of the 20th century, back when altars were up against the wall. But there is something deeply symbolic about this particular cross, in this latest dispute in the culture wars. I'm not sure that I understand it. I'm not sure that the emotionalism even has anything to do with Christian faith.

I wonder if God cares about the religious symbols we have created for ourselves? Instead, I think it is our actions that please or displease God. If the College restored the cross to 24/7 display in the chapel, I suspect the defenders of the cross would think all is well with the world. In fact, of course, all would not be. Let me offer some examples of how this whole controversy entirely misses the point of what's important.

It would please God if those who are organizing candle light vigils would devote their energy to ending the tragic problem of homelessness in our community. It would please God if those attacking the integrity of Gene Nichol would turn their anger towards the fact that there are members of our community who die every day because they have had no health insurance and thus have received no preventitive medical care. It would please God if the energy being expended in defense of the cross were used to set up a community-wide visitation program so that no member of our community would be isolated and lonely. It would please God if all that energy would be used to solve the problem of minority children underachieving in school.

All of that would be following the example of Jesus, who was only following the example of the Old Testament prophets. In many places in the Bible, we see that those prophets and Jesus attacked those who revered religious symbols, but did not take care of the poor. I think God cares about people, not symbols.

This morning I did my first official pastoral act in four months. I spoke before the students in the Lower School of Walsingham Academy during a prayer service to begin Catholic Schools Week. I talked about prayer, appropriately enough, sharing my experiences of being carried by the prayers and love of so many during my illness. (Patty teaches music at Walsingham, and the students and teachers prayed for me out loud for months! They were so glad to see the face of the person they had been praying for.)

I was able to speak about my experiences this morning without tears. Another small step of recovery. I've written on this blog that another step of recovery will be when I realize at the end of a day that I haven't worried about my health all day! One of our folks has written remarkable letters to me through these months, and she most recently wrote, "Have you noticed that people treat you differently? You indicated that you'll know you are healthy again when you stop thinking about being sick. I think you'll also notice the days when others stop treating you as a sick person."

Those days are in the future! Yesterday I was ready to help move the wall partitions in the Fellowship Hall, to get the room ready for the congregational meeting, but I was physically prevented from doing that by several people who were treating me like a sick person. I do appreciate everyone's counsel, to take it slow as I come back to activity this Thursday. I promise I'll be careful!

Of course, all of this is uncharted water for me. I've never returned to work after a serious illness. I have profited a great deal from conversations with three colleagues who have done that. They've given me good advice on how to take care of myself, and they've reinforced my assumption: that confidence comes with getting back into doing the work. A couple of youth asked me yesterday how I was doing, and I told them: I'm ready to be back!

Over the past month or so as I've been progressively feeling better, Sunday mornings have been so strange. I haven't had anything pressing to do! For years and years, my Sunday workday has begun at 5:30 AM, to give me time in the midst of bathing and dressing and eating breakfast to do a final editing of the sermon, and to compose that day's prayer, and to review what I'll be doing in the Adult Class, and to be able to get to the church early enough to make sure everything's in place and then to have a few moments of quiet to prepare in that way for the worship that's about to begin. I haven't been able to get used to Sunday morning leisure, to having time to read the comics.

Beginning next Sunday, I'll be back in my comfort zone of early morning preparation. (Actually, I'll have to get up at 5:00 AM, to take my medication, so I can eat breakfast at 7:00.) I look forward to it!

OK. Just back from the dentist. Last week, during my check-up, the dentist decided that the crack in that back molar had gotten serious enough to do somethng about. So, I've just had a temporary crown put on. In two weeks she'll put on the permanent one.

When it rains it pours, huh? But look at the bright side: after my January 2 procedure with the surgeon (removing the PEG tube) and today's appointment with the dentist, I'll bet I've already shot past the insurance deductibles for the year!

These days I've been catching up on my reading for the spiritual guidance program I'm in, with the Shalem Institute for Spiritual Formation. Today I escaped from the house, spending a few hours doing the reading in Swem Library on the College campus. Afterwards, walking from the library to my car, twice I encountered members of our Lutheran Student Association. (Today's the first day of classes for the spring semester.) How wonderful it was to hear from Ashley that she's been accepted at two law schools, and to hear from Leslie that she's been accepted into a PhD program in physical therapy! But, more importantly, how good it was to see the joy in their faces, when they saw how well I'm doing! How good it was to be hugged by them! How glad I am to again be out (literally) among the living!

The latest sign of how unreliable many home repair companies are comes on a sign posted in a front yard in my neighborhood. It's a sign advertising a house painting company. Their slogan has nothing to do with the quality of their work. Instead, it is this: "We will return your phone call."

Sheesh!

This past Friday was the most recent monthly meeting of a group that I am a part of. Seven of us who are spiritual directors gather to talk about how the Holy Spirit is moving in our lives. (That's the same thing we listen for, in conversations with our "directees." It's important that we are alert to that movement in our own lives, so we can better help others in that awareness!)

Obviously, I had missed the past several meetings of the group. This past Friday, the convenor asked me to "present" on my spiritual journey over these past months. We are very honest in the group, and I talked about how horrific the hospitalization had been for me, and how difficult it was to overcome fear during those weeks. In the course of conversation, as my colleagues opened my awareness through their questions, it became obvious that I knew God's presence as it came through other people. In the ICU, when I heard of prayer lists that I was on, there was God's healing Spirit. While hooked up to a ventilator, as I read notes that had been written to me, there was God's healing Spirit in those words. When I was visited (especially by folks who didn't feel the compulsion to talk a whole lot, but who were willing to simply sit with me), there was God's healing Spirit, enfleshed in my visitors. The Spirit was moving through you who are reading this, and through many, many others.

Then, one of my colleagues said, "Well, what's been your awareness of the Spirit since you've been home?" And I realized it's been in my feelings of thankfulness. I am so thankful! I am thankful for each new day when I wake up. I am thankful for that awful medication I drink twice a day. (Each time, before I swallow it, I say out loud, "Take this, you goddam fungus!" I believe, in that, I am entirely faithful to the sentiment expressed by many of the Psalm writers.) I am thankful for deep and easy breaths. I am thankful for Patty and her warm embracing arms. I am thankful for the warm bed I snuggle into each night.

This is not intended to be an exhaustive list of what I'm thankful for. My point is that I am consciously thankful. In that consciousness, there is the Spirit moving. I hope I never get back to "normal" -- to taking everyday blessings for granted.

6:00 AM - up to take the medication (only 10 more months of the awful stuff!) and time for prayer.
7:00 AM - time for exercise
8:00 AM - shower and breakfast
9:00 AM - work

I'm trying out the ol' morning routine, and monitoring my energy level, in preparation for returning to activity as pastor of St. Stephen!

My work is reading and writing for the Shalem Institute spiritual direction program. This two-year program is my chief continuing education effort right now. My hospitalization prevented me from keeping up with the reading, and there was a paper due back in November! I've finished a first draft, and I'll mail in the paper next week.

Tomorrow I'll spend the morning in Richmond, meeting with a Peer Group of other spiritual directors. I'm thinking of taking my reading to Swem Library next week, just to get out of the house!

Health update: I took advantage of the 70-degree weather yesterday to get on my commuting bicycle for some exercise. I figure I rode about seven easy miles, from home to the CW restored area, meandering around for a while, and then back home.

What fun it was to be outside and riding! In fact, late yesterday afternoon, a friend asked if that was me she had seen? (She was in her car.) She said I was smiling!

There have been so many "first time" moments for me during this months-long journey through illness. Another one occured sometime yesterday morning -- the moment when I realized that I feel (ta daaa!) healthy! I realized that I now breathe evenly and deeply and easily, and I haven't been able to do that for several years.

The next few weeks will bring increased stamina, as I use the exercise bike. I spent 30 minutes on it this morning. It could be that, even after I return to work on February 1, that I'll need an occasional nap. (The members of the quilting group even made me a quilt when I first got sick, for use during office naps!) But I'm listening to my body, and my body feels more healthy with each day.

I wonder when the next "first time" moment will come: when I'll realize that I've re-learned what it's like to be healthy. There's a confidence in being healthy that I don't possess yet. I'm sure it won't happen until I've been back on the job for a while. It'll happen, perhaps, some evening, when I'll realize that I haven't worried about my health all day!

Thanks be to God, the source of all healing.

Health update: I had an appointment with Dr. Donlan, the pulmonologist this morning, and he's pleased with how I'm doing. He doesn't see any danger of scar tissue in my lungs because I'm exercising, which causes deep breathing. He doesn't even want to see me again for another two months!

Then, at the end of the day, Dr. Flenner called with the results of last week's lab work. The histoplasmosis level in my blood is down to 0.44 -- in other words, basically, zero!! The fungus is so pesky that I'll be on this awful anti-fungal medication for months and months. But, Dr. Flenner said, when I next see him, if the level remains low, he’ll cut back on the amount of the itraconazole that I’m taking.

Meanwhile, I feel real improvement week-by-week. I use Sunday mornings at worship to measure the increase in my lung capacity – as I sing the hymns!

At Christmas, my mother gave me my father's old wrist watch. When I look at it, strapped onto my own wrist, I see my father's arm. The watch is a vintage piece by now, an Omega, which my Dad bought in the late-60s during one of his business trips to Switzerland. It has a very distinctive strap. And I've inherited my father's hairy forearms. So, that small bit of anatomy looks awfully familiar.

Some of you know that my Dad died the third day I was in the hospital, when I was in the most danger. In fact, I was not told of his death until later. That was the best thing to do, but it has meant for a strange grief journey. Since I didn't see him on a day-to-day basis, without attending the funeral, the reality of his death has been slow to sink in. It has come in unusual ways -- like the sight of his old watch on my wrist.

My Dad was quite a guy. He was always self-effacing and quick to credit others, although his career at the DuPont Company was extremely successful. After retiring from DuPont, he was never happy unless he was involved in a major project. He was invited to help establish a degree program in Marketing Communications at his alma mater, the University of South Carolina. Unfortunately, that involved the tough work of bringing together two academic departments, Journalism and Business. After a couple of years, he grew so tired of what he thought to be petty academic turf wars that he cast his attention elsewhere. By that point, he and my mother had moved to Seabrook Island, SC, and he poured his considerable energies towards the needs of the town. First -- he was involved in getting the town incorporated, which meant setting up its own government of a mayor and town council. Then -- the developer of the island declared bankruptcy. My Dad organized an enormous effort among property owners (many of whom lived scattered across the country, having bought property there for their future retirements) to raise enough money to buy the golf course, club house, and other recreation facilities from the bank. Then -- when ocean erosion threatened some of those facilities, he worked with the property owners and the state of South Carolina to finance and pull off a large beach renourishment effort. Then -- when the first mayor of the town appeared settled into the job for life, my Dad responded to those who thought that mayors should be citizen-politicians, rotating in and out, and he ran for mayor himself! He won, and then stepped aside after only one term. Then -- bored again, he secured financial backing and founded a small newspaper: The Seabrooker, "Serving the people of Seabrook Island, South Carolina."

By the time my father died, new editors had been running The Seabrooker for nearly a year. After his death, the editors devoted the front page to an "In Memoriam" feature, one writer calling him "a giant among us Lilliputians." If my Dad had read that he would have shook his head and said, "That's a bit much." I can hear him now.

But I also listened to him years ago, when I was first ordained. He said, "I've been succesful at DuPont because I've surrounded myself with people much smarter than I am, and I've stayed out of their way to let them do their jobs. Seems to me that's a good way to lead a church, too."

That's what I've tried to do! Maybe that's one reason why St. Stephen has been so healthy during the months of my illness.

Happy Epiphany! Today is the Epiphany, which ends the Christmas season and begins the season of Epiphany. The Epiphany season lasts until Ash Wednesday, which begins Lent; February 21 this year.

The Epiphany is when, according to Church tradition, the three "wise men" or "magi" arrived from the east, to give their gifts to the Christ child. The story is included in Matthew 2:1-12. We know nothing more about these three mysterious travelers than what is in the story. Their names? The tradition that two were white and one was black? All of that has been made up over the years!

An "epiphany" is a manifestation, a clarification, and instance of making something clear. So, there is great significance in this season following the Christmas season. During Christmas we celebrate the birth of the Christ child, God in human flesh. During Epiphany, we become clear about what that means. We find that God's purposes for humanity and creation are embodied in Jesus the Christ. So, for instance -- what is God like? Look to Jesus. How should human beings treat each other? Look to the model of Jesus. What ethical behavior does God's grace free us to follow? Look at what Jesus did and taught.

Health update: Last night was my first night sleeping without oxygen since October 26!

Weeks ago, Dr. Donlan, the pulmonologist, released me from using oxygen during the day. But, he said, blood oxygen levels drop during deep sleep, so he kept me on oxygen at night. He said to monitor my levels during exercise; exercise levels are about what night time levels are. I've been using a stationary bike (thanks, Dick and Dorothy Reeves!) and monitoring my blood oxygen while exercising (thanks, Paul Reier, for the use of a "pulse-ox meter"), and that oxygen level has stayed up over 90%. I reported that to Dr. Donlan and he released me from night time use. Hooray!

Today's newspapers are full of the Democrats' triumphant takeover of the House and Senate. Will things be any different than they've been under the Republicans? We'll see, over the course of the next couple of years.

Meanwhile, I've been using the Daily Lectionary in the new Evangelical Lutheran Worship Book. It's set up in an interesting way. The daily readings are keyed to the readings for each Sunday or Holy Day. So I've been reading the passages leading up to the Epiphany, which is tomorrow. One reading for the past three days has been Psalm 72, and that Psalm gives Biblical commentary on what God expects of politicians. Listen to selected verses:

Give the king your justice, O God,
and your righteousness to a king's son.

May he judge your people with righteousness,
and your poor with justice....

May he defend the cause of the poor of the people,
give deliverance to the needy,
and crush the oppressor....

Of course, there are verses like this one:

May his foes bow down before him,
and his enemies lick the dust.

But why would God allow the king to be so successful in geopolitics? According to the Psalm, it is because the king takes care of the poor!

For he delivers the needy when they call,
the poor and those who have no helper.

He has pity on the weak and the needy,
and saves the lives of the needy.

From oppression and violence he redeems their life;
and precious is their blood in his sight....

I wonder sometimes about the Christian "religious right" and those politicians who are beholden to them, who are so outspoken about their religious motivations. I wonder why the issues they push do not come out of the Bible? The Bible says nothing about abortion, for instance, or same sex marriage, or stem cell research. Whenever the prophets or Psalm writers or, for that matter, Jesus, condemn or praise political leaders, the sole criterion is how those leaders care for the poor, the weak, the helpless in society.

I would suggest, as Biblical Christians, that we judge the righteousness of our leaders by the same criterion.

Health update: With the PEG out, I used a recumbent exercise bike this morning for 15 minutes, and my blood oxygen stayed up at 92-94%! (That's good! To give some perspective, when I went to the doctor in late October because I "wasn't feeling good," they rushed me to the hospital because my blood oxygen was in the 70s.)

And -- with the PEG out, I took a shower for the first time since October 26, 2006! May I be forgiven a bit of wastefulness? I confess that I stood under that water for several minutes, just luxuriating in it! A hot shower is, indeed, a luxury -- one of many, many daily luxuries that we middle and upper-class Americans simply take for granted.

Health update: this morning Patty and I went down to see the surgeon in Norfolk, and HE REMOVED THE PERCUTANEOUS ENDOSCOPIC GASTROSTOMY (PEG) TUBE!!! That was the tube stuck into my stomach, that they used to feed my for several weeks, and to send medications directly into my stomach during the hospitalization. Since I was discharged a little more than a month ago, it's not been used and has been pure irritation. Now I don't have anything stuck into my body!

The surgeon said the wound will heal within 72 hours. I look forward, then, to stepping up my exercise activity. I've received the use of a recumbent exercise bike for my legs, and I have a rowing machine for upper body. So, slowly and progressively, I'll be building up strength!

We drove down to the appointment an hour early, and we visited the ICU and the step-down units I was in, to say hello to the nurses and therapists, and to thank them for the care they gave to me. I also saw two of the pulmonologists who took care of me. They were thrilled to see how far I've come! And it was a moving experience for me to thank them.

Have you taken down your Christmas decorations yet? If not, that's ok! It's still Christmas through this Saturday, January 5. (January 6 is the Epiphany, and the beginning of the Epiphany season, which lasts until Ash Wednesday.) I have a suggestion of how to use one of the Christmas cards you may have received -- for prayer.

I recently came across a reference to Catherine of Sienna (1340-1380), who was a great teacher of prayer. The essayist writes this: "Catherine invites us not only to know about God with our heads but also to allow the truths about God to sink deeply into our hearts, the fiber of our inmost being. She plots a way to savor and be enlightened by the truth of God's goodness through constant humble prayer. A practical way to discover the truth is to gaze with fidelity and love into the face of God. Over time, we are to become the image we see in God's loving face and to notice the divine truth in the faces of our neighbors."

I've been thinking about the words, "to gaze with fidelity and love into the face of God." One centuries-old way of doing that in prayer is to pray with icons. No, I'm not talking about computer icons, but instead those depictions of God or Jesus or Mary or one of the other saints. It's a way of prayer that we are invited into by our brothers and sisters who are Eastern, Orthodox Christians. Using an icon of Jesus, for instance, a person stares into the eyes of the Christ, with prayerful contemplative openness. Through the prayer, s/he finds herself looking into the eyes of God! And here's something else that happens: in the prayer, s/he finds that God is looking back, as well! It is communication through eye contact.

It could be that you have an icon that you use for prayer. But it could be that you received a Christmas card that will work just as well. I'm not talking about one of the cards featuring Rudolph or Frosty the Snowman, wishing you "Happy Holidays." It has to be a card depicting the Christ child, staring out at you. Did you receive one like that? I've pulled out one such card. (On the back of the card I read, "Madonna and Child painting by Sister Gregory Ems (1869-1954), Monastery of the Immaculte Conception.")

I sit still, looking into the loving eyes of the Christ child ...