tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-111018312012-02-16T04:58:59.251-06:00If two people agree on everything, one of them isn't necessary.Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.comBlogger741100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-2445193884407203362010-01-16T10:49:00.000-06:002010-01-16T10:49:11.719-06:00

It’s an easy, perhaps deadly, trap to fall into, to think that when something good happens, it’s for good. A trap that doesn't so much involve falling into but struggling up to. As if good were a plateau, that if I can only toil hard enough to reach the top, get on firm ground, I’ve arrived. At good, for good. It’s a lifelong battle for me. Particularly in my high school years, I learned to

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-82375861228526941532009-12-25T18:46:00.000-06:002009-12-25T18:46:41.484-06:00

Most years I say, “Bah, humbug!” This year it might even be justified, but strangely, I don’t feel like it. Most years, my list of “shoulds” has far outweighed my list for Santa. But then, I was raised to not believe in Santa, so my puny wish list is no sign of virtue. And I don’t want to display a list of completed shoulds as evidence of my virtues. Because, ouch. This year, as usual, I’ve

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-8422191999586805052009-11-15T14:47:00.000-06:002009-11-15T14:47:56.863-06:00

“We gather around the table not to escape the world’s problems, but to escape the world’s answers.” This is a my perhaps faulty memory of a quote from this morning’s sermon, of an unnamed Episcopal bishop. I wish I had the exact quote and knew whose it is. But as I have come to expect from wise spiritual leadership, it is helpful, and I look to this type of insight precisely because it doesn’t

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-14816475247456262622009-10-17T20:22:00.000-05:002009-10-17T20:22:41.648-05:00

This was the question posed in several sermons by a former rector of my former parish. He used it at least a couple of times as a lead-in to a fable of Edwin H. Friedman, which, along with that question, has been on my mind a lot lately when following the discussion on legalizing gay marriage. The rector was addressing certain beliefs held by parishioners that must have given him great

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-48488317407687890522009-10-04T10:23:00.002-05:002009-10-04T10:26:29.730-05:00

Chicago lost its bid to host the 2016 Summer Olympics. The loss is not huge for me and neither is the lesson: Though I’m past the half-century mark, I still indulge in magical thinking. Surprise! Watching the Election Night celebration in Chicago’s Grant Park I got caught up in the “yes we can” fervor. Somehow that feeling transferred to Chicago’s Olympics bid. Having backed a winner in

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-270926909077377702009-09-26T20:13:00.002-05:002009-09-26T20:16:27.316-05:00

The Bag Lady was wandering in the wilderness for two years, wanting to blog but easily distracted and derailed. Long story short—I've finally managed to 1) get off my duff; 2) figure out my password; 3) check settings; 4) start typing. Maybe I'll write about it eventually, but right now here I am.

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-22104744002633894692007-04-04T21:03:00.000-05:002007-04-04T21:06:33.049-05:00

Another troubling occurrence in my Observatory of Human Behavior: On the el this morning, two young women took seats in front of me. I didn’t pay attention at first, but the one who did most of the talking became a subject in my observatory. Her voice sounded as though she were pre-adolescent, though her companion appeared much older. Between the inevitable cell phone calls and her witty

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-2249418322444145672007-03-05T21:29:00.000-06:002007-03-05T21:31:42.517-06:00

I frequently witness raw human interactions and behavior. As I spend nearly two hours a day on public transit in Chicago, I have ample opportunity to observe. Tonight, though, I felt as though I had the wind knocked out of me. When I walked from the el station to the waiting bus, a man hurriedly passed me. He got on the bus just in front of me and about four seats back from the front, he

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-8675802657228939692007-02-24T00:39:00.000-06:002007-02-24T00:48:41.657-06:00

Tonight I did something in observance of Lent that I’d never done. The parish I’ve been attending offers Stations of the Cross and Benediction of The Blessed Sacrament each Friday in Lent. Last year I pondered going, but tonight I went. For someone raised in a Lutheran tradition that eschewed anything that “smelled” of Rome, this was a huge step, even though my Episcopalian experience of the

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-39734857570260845852007-02-20T22:34:00.000-06:002007-02-20T22:35:55.788-06:00

Your Deadly SinsWrath: 60%Sloth: 40%Pride: 20%Envy: 0%Gluttony: 0%Greed: 0%Lust: 0%Chance You'll Go to Hell: 17%You will die, after conquering the world as an evil dictator.How Sinful Are You?

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-57673974707148198472007-02-13T17:11:00.000-06:002007-02-12T23:33:47.330-06:00

What's wrong with this picture? This Midas is a block from me. I saw it on my way home and just had to go back with the camera.

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-17049911993914881612007-02-12T23:15:00.000-06:002007-02-11T21:19:52.775-06:00

But wait, there’s no such thing as a comforting prophet. When fascism comes to America, it will be wrapped in the flag and carrying the cross.”Sinclair Lewis, courtesy of Wisdom Quotes Sinclair Lewis managed to seriously rile the folks in his hometown, Sauk Centre, Minnesota, with his novel “Main Street.” So much so that, despite his fame, nobody put up signs proclaiming Sauk Centre as “The

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1170522606714323822007-02-03T11:08:00.000-06:002007-02-03T11:18:35.820-06:00

Yesterday being Groundhog Day, I was reminded of my annual puzzlement over this observance. If the groundhog sees its shadow, we’ll have an early spring, and if it doesn’t, it’s six more weeks of winter. Calculate with me here: Six more weeks puts us at March 16. Well, if you lived in Minnesota, say, where I grew up, winter continues until at least April. Complete with snow on the ground,

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1169691646845878522007-01-24T20:12:00.000-06:002007-01-24T20:20:46.956-06:00

Dad said on more than one occasion that I had a heavy foot. But I came by it honestly: inheritance. Once, just after Dad had purchased a used car (which had a faulty speedometer) he was on the freeway, timing himself by the mile markers in order to determine his speed, as opposed to what the speedometer said. State trooper pulled him over, told him he was doing 60 mph (speed limit was 55). Dad

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1169613425805662632007-01-23T22:28:00.000-06:002007-01-23T22:37:06.566-06:00

Nor am I ordained. But (thanks to St. Casserole) I discovered that maybe I don’t fully know me. My Peculiar Aristocratic Title is: Reverend Lady Bag Lady the Antique of Menzies on the Minges Get your Peculiar Aristocratic Title Whoops! Just realized I am at least a Bag “Lady”—so I guess Lady Fortune the Absurd of Greater Internetshire knew more than I did… and I’m kinda approaching “

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1169269725289279562007-01-19T23:05:00.000-06:002007-01-19T23:08:45.300-06:00

Thanks to Brother Dwight, I had to check this out. I did grow up Lutheran, though I “faded” during college and never really went back. Having been Episcopalian now for roughly the same amount of time I was Lutheran, I thought I might just see: if you take the girl out of the Lutheran church, can you take the Lutheran church out of the girl? You are 78% Lutheran! This is most certainly true.

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1168731045795424052007-01-13T17:20:00.000-06:002007-01-13T17:30:45.846-06:00

Thanks to Lutheran Chik, I had to check this out (mostly because for more than 20 years I've heard numerous remarks about my "accent"). My results: What American accent do you have? Your Result: The Inland North You may think you speak "Standard English straight out of the dictionary" but when you step away from the Great Lakes you get asked annoying questions like "Are you from Wisconsin?" or "

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1168312663909597552007-01-08T21:13:00.000-06:002007-01-08T21:19:20.586-06:00

It wasn’t on my to-do list, but there it is, anyway. New neighbors in the basement apartment have one. Her name is Secret, and she appears to be a puppy still. She’s very friendly—I’ve seen her several times, and tonight she insisted on greeting me, jumping up on me and licking my hands (even as I hoped she wouldn’t decide to have a bite). Well-trained dogs aren’t supposed to jump up on people,

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1167797805948401892007-01-02T22:10:00.000-06:002007-01-02T22:16:45.966-06:00

I’ve been pondering 20/20 hindsight. The two triggers: the death of Gerald Ford and the execution of Saddam Hussein. Since Gerald Ford’s death, he’s been lauded for his role in stabilizing the nation following Richard Nixon’s resignation in disgrace. Back then, Ford was vilified from all sides for his pardon of Nixon, and many sources have noted that it likely cost him the Presidential election

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1167272640999784922006-12-27T20:22:00.000-06:002006-12-27T20:27:51.996-06:00

This is tangentially a Dad Story.Way back, senior year in high school, a couple of friends and I decided we really needed to see a movie in a town 30 miles away (life in the boondocks, you know—and I have absolutely no recollection what the movie was). January in Minnesota and the temp was below zero (no clue what the wind-chill factor was, as we didn’t take note of it then).Mom was away at a

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1164946588646339742006-11-30T22:11:00.000-06:002006-11-30T22:16:28.680-06:00

St. Casserole wants more Dad Stories. All right. So many of my memories of Dad are tied up with winter. He had an almost missionary zeal about fighting and prevailing against everything that winter could administer. Well, with Chicago’s first snowstorm of the season looming, it seems appropriate to relate some experiences (the snow has begun to fall here in north Chicago). Countless times I

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1164690182631715122006-11-27T22:59:00.000-06:002006-11-27T23:03:02.643-06:00

Two more episodes in “Fixing Things with My Dad,” in which we were co-conspirators: Episode 1: When a childhood friend of mine got married, I played organ for the wedding. New church, but old electronic organ, the kind that organist friends of mine refer to as an “appliance” and/or a “toaster.” Really can’t compare with big old pipe organs. The happy couple scheduled the wedding for right

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1164514057095674912006-11-25T22:04:00.000-06:002006-11-25T22:07:37.113-06:00

My father would have been 100 years old today. He died almost eight years ago, shortly after turning 92. His lifespan encompassed plowing fields with horses as a boy to watching the space shuttle land in California. And his mother had seen a Native American traversing a nearby swamp with a canoe. He never officially went past eighth grade, though his schooling continued—whatever was at hand, he

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1163381514911107672006-11-12T19:28:00.000-06:002006-11-12T19:31:54.936-06:00

The new Presiding Bishop was at a nearby church this morning (only a couple of miles away!), and I just found out about it this evening, or I’d have gone. A friend who went called to tell me about it. My friend was very pleased and positively impressed by Jefforts Schori, who preached. And she got to meet her after the service, and reported Jefferts Schori to be warm and authentic (my friend has

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1162694500244331812006-11-04T20:28:00.000-06:002006-11-04T21:04:36.476-06:00

Just before the start of Ramadan, Sheik Taj Aldin al-Hilali, mufti of Australia, said in a religious lesson: If you take out uncovered meat and place it outside ... and the cats come to eat it ... whose fault is it, the cats’ or the uncovered meat’s? The uncovered meat is the problem. If she was in her room, in her home, in her hijab, no problem would have occurred. Follow-up articles here and

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1160891256980342222006-10-15T00:41:00.000-05:002006-10-15T00:47:37.000-05:00

While sitting at my computer tonight, I gradually became aware of nearby fire trucks. I’ve become so accustomed to hearing them at work (my office in downtown Chicago is a couple of blocks from a fire station) and sirens go by so many times in a day that I no longer hear them. But the close proximity and obvious multiple vehicles got my attention. I looked out the kitchen window to see three

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1159588061542239572006-09-29T22:44:00.000-05:002006-09-29T22:47:41.560-05:00

Remember the old Telephone (or Operator) game? This isn’t about being a captive audience of oblivious public yakkers. Rather, it’s about an opportunity (?) to consider people’s perceptions. Public transit is so often my lab. Yesterday it took me almost three hours to get to work. During my trip (mostly on the el), our operator diligently kept us updated—and he gets high marks for his efforts.

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1157944098067213362006-09-10T22:07:00.000-05:002006-09-10T22:14:00.300-05:00

I wore sneakers to church today. Not because of disrespect, but because it was necessary. As it has been on occasion. I walk to church (public transit being of no help on Sundays), and as it’s two miles and my knees and back are rather cranky, walking shoes are necessary. Normally, I would wear a pair that is maybe one step up from sneakers in terms of proper attire (my best pair), but it rained

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1157846768692504422006-09-09T19:01:00.000-05:002006-09-09T19:08:46.843-05:00

Concerns over attire in church got me to wondering: how would people feel about the priest’s dog accompanying him during Mass? I’m not talking about the Blessing of the Animals, a special service when pet-owners bring their critters to Mass (usually in commemoration of St. Francis). I know how people feel in the parish I’ve been attending. The dog, Abydos, is loved and understood, as was his

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1157771854572500112006-09-08T22:02:00.000-05:002006-09-08T22:17:34.600-05:00

Argh. It’s been months since I’ve posted, but Dash’s post (drat her, anyway!) has provoked me. Well, at least the comments, on top of Dear Abby’s column of weeks ago. Proper attire in church. Not a topic that concerns me so much, except that people are judging others—primarily on their appearance in church. Is it a question of respect, knowledge, or awareness? I know that Biblical Jews were

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1136655461845365922006-01-07T11:27:00.000-06:002006-01-07T11:37:41.866-06:00

In a good way. Over the past several years, I’ve caught episodes of different shows, but saw nothing that made me plan on watching regularly. But last night’s premiere episode of “The Book of Daniel” has gotten me—dare I say it?—hooked. It’s sort of a combination of “Oh, God” (the movie with George Burns) and “Desperate Housewives,” with maybe some “Friends” thrown in. No question that it’s

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1135376394678535552005-12-23T16:04:00.000-06:002005-12-23T16:19:54.723-06:00

Not what you’re thinking, if you’ve had experiences like mine in worship problems. And I’m sure Dash will be interested to learn more about hurdles faced by emergent churches. I stumbled across this offering from a music and sound installation store: “Gand Music and Sound has specialized in helping houses of worship solve their sound problems for over 34 years….” As Gand is well-respected (and I

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1135146602941444822005-12-21T00:27:00.000-06:002005-12-21T00:30:02.953-06:00

Am I the only one questioning neo-con desires to implant democracy in the Middle East? Iran’s President Ahmadinejad was freely elected—no alerts of election fraud that I know of—and he has proceeded on a course that appears to have little to do with Bush/Cheney/Rove desires for stability (and especially U.S. alliance) in that region. WMDs [Weapons of Mass Destruction] have been pretty thoroughly

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1133057299323924042005-11-26T19:52:00.000-06:002005-11-26T20:08:19.340-06:00

“During this season of indulgence, remember this: Take care of the luxuries, and the necessities will take care of themselves.” So advises a Cadillac commercial, urging the purchase of a castle on wheels. First: Huh? You talkin’ to me??? I think not, as I’m still concerned with necessities for myself and a whole lot of people in the world. Those wacky marketing people. Always upping the ante

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1131674092205174472005-11-10T19:48:00.000-06:002005-11-10T19:54:52.220-06:00

I’ve probably never seen those two words so close together. This week’s Sojourners e-newsletter has two potent items on torture and generosity. The title that grabbed my attention was “Who would Jesus torture?” The author, David Batstone, observes in part: Christians of strong religious faith and sound moral conscience often end up in disagreement. Human affairs are a messy business,

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1130719161594120042005-10-30T18:23:00.000-06:002005-10-30T18:39:25.240-06:00

Whew. How are those connected? Odd reminiscences here. Cleaning my bathroom yesterday, I suddenly recalled how intrigued I was with white toilets as a child. (My bathroom has pink fixtures, coordinated with chocolate brown/pink tiles—not my choice.) My family’s bathroom had gray fixtures—at the time, non-white porcelain was pricey, and we couldn’t afford luxuries. As my uncle was a plumber, I’m

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1130013125739681312005-10-22T15:30:00.000-05:002005-10-22T15:33:14.436-05:00

A woman said to her young son, “I don’t want it. I don’t want it. Throw it on the floor.” (“Floor” in this case appeared to be her word for the sidewalk.) He hesitated, looked down, then dropped the empty candy box he’d been holding. The garbage can was about five steps away. At my bus stop, a woman and her children were waiting. She appeared to drop her transit card, so I picked it up and

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1129333215136966412005-10-14T18:35:00.000-05:002005-10-14T18:40:15.146-05:00

Thanks so much, Dash, for pointing me to Which Book of the Bible are you? At least you can't claim this one's rigged! (Unlike the Peanuts one.) You are Proverbs. Which book of the Bible are you? brought to you by Quizilla Gotta say, though, this doesn't strike me as wrong. Whatever that means.

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1129004132939084132005-10-10T23:13:00.000-05:002005-10-10T23:16:09.070-05:00

Courtesy of LutheranChik Not that I'm a huge Peanuts fan, but here I am: You are Rerun! Which Peanuts Character are You? brought to you by

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1128569954400987832005-10-05T22:23:00.000-05:002005-10-05T22:39:14.406-05:00

Today would have been my mother’s 82nd birthday. She died 14 years ago, way too soon. And I thought today, as I often have, of things I wish I’d known about her before she died. After her death, I learned the following from the woman I studied piano with from 5th grade through high school. (She and my mom had gotten to be friends, but I didn’t know more than that.) My piano teacher lived miles

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1128133465947077302005-09-30T21:15:00.000-05:002005-09-30T21:24:25.956-05:00

I’ve been pondering something I witnessed a couple of nights ago by my place. These were my observations that night: Several young adult African-American males walk down the street. An unmarked police car pulls into the alley near them; one of the cops yells, “Over here.” The young men all immediately approach the nearest car, arms up and mostly in front, and they place their hands on the car,

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1127693969247167252005-09-25T19:14:00.000-05:002005-09-25T19:20:53.183-05:00

I lived in Houston from 1985–1987, and in 1986 Hurricane Bonnie threatened our area. As I researched it (my memory of it is poor) I discovered that it was at most a Category 1 hurricane, and upon making landfall was downgraded to tropical storm. Still, we had our warnings, which back then consisted of: stock up on batteries, water, nonperishable food and candles, and criss-cross tape your

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1127688866071172282005-09-25T17:51:00.000-05:002005-09-25T17:54:26.083-05:00

Bemused at Blogging through the Bible has noted the constant theme of children paying for their parents’ sins (she’s nearly through II Kings now), and I have found it as perplexing and disheartening as she does. However, theology does shift in the Old Testament, though it’s a detail that escapes most people’s notice. The Lectionary for today includes Ezekiel 18, which provides an uplifting

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1127351824699819032005-09-21T20:11:00.000-05:002005-09-21T20:17:04.706-05:00

Dave at The Grace Pages talks about churches trying to offer something for everybody by segregating them ("ghettoization" he calls it). I found his comments a welcome antidote to the solutions presented by Episcopal Church "experts" on growing churches (which I might address sometime, if I can raise the stamina to do so) to my former parish. (Former parish's mission was pretty near "Grow or die.")

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1127269236852770172005-09-20T21:18:00.000-05:002005-09-20T22:48:05.830-05:00

I don’t know who wrote this—it came via e-mail—but I find it wonderfully thought-provoking enough to share: There were 3 good arguments that Jesus was Black: 1. He called everyone brother. 2. He liked Gospel. 3. He couldn't get a fair trial. But then there were 3 equally good arguments that Jesus was Jewish: 1. He went into His Father's business. 2. He lived at home until he was 33. 3. He was

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1126991941694550672005-09-17T16:14:00.000-05:002005-09-17T16:19:01.706-05:00

This has made the e-mail rounds, but as I know all three of my readers enjoy church jokes, I thought I would share this way. And in my experience, "Episcopalian" could substitute for "Catholic."--------This information is for Catholics only. It must not be divulged to non-Catholics. The less they know about our rituals and code words, the better off they are.AMEN: The only part of a prayer that

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1126662304426506962005-09-13T20:36:00.000-05:002005-09-13T20:45:04.456-05:00

Thanks to LutheranChik's pointing, I now know that if I were to be a saint (hah!) I'd be Francis. You are Saint Francis of Assisi! You don't care what you look like (or smell like) as long as you can live simply and help the poor. You should be receiving your stigmata any day now. Which Saint Are You? brought to you by Quizilla Well. I will be pondering this. I do kinda care about smelling.

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1126161569181132512005-09-08T01:33:00.000-05:002005-09-08T01:39:29.186-05:00

If the rich and the destitute lose all their material possessions, whose loss is greater? I’m asking the question because of recent remarks by Barbara Bush (noted here, here, and here) about displaced people from New Orleans being sheltered in Texas. She seems to be clueless as to what it’s like to walk in those shoes, with the apparent conclusion that if one loses what little one has, the loss

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1125879548031073762005-09-04T19:17:00.000-05:002005-09-04T19:19:08.036-05:00

There's a rule in baseball that I like a lot: the tie goes to the runner. I think there should be a rule like that in life. If there's a conflict between someone with power and someone without, the one without power should prevail.

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1125288803216733072005-08-28T23:04:00.000-05:002005-08-28T23:13:23.230-05:00

Dash reports on a speaker she heard, who noted that “for about a century now religion has been becoming more and more feminized, that is, more oriented toward women,” along with raising the question of what it would take to get more males (young and otherwise) involved in church. I lay that alongside something from John Dominic Crossan: …we sometimes talk about the public spaces belonging to men

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1123353876741625702005-08-06T13:40:00.000-05:002005-08-06T13:44:36.760-05:00

“Two weeks after the London bombings, openDemocracy and Q-News convened a meeting at London’s Chatham House to debate the origins and consequences of the attacks and let Muslims and non-Muslims thrash out the issues.” View article at openDemocracy—free thinking for the world. I especially like the tag line “Nobody pulls our strings”—I hope that’s true. (Via Ray at Minor Wisdom and Faraz Rabbani

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1122747805954226182005-07-30T13:03:00.000-05:002005-07-30T16:42:59.746-05:00

I’m attempting to organize some of my utterly hyperlinked thoughts (my brain tends to work rather like the Internet, and an orderly line of reasoning comes with great difficulty). As one of the tasks of writing is to organize one’s thinking, here goes. Perhaps some of you will be kind enough to let me know if I’m making progress. First, the anecdote that helped me to frame one particular issue:

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1121367797078516322005-07-14T14:04:00.000-05:002005-07-14T14:03:18.136-05:00

…oh my! I have lots of weird dreams, and most of them don’t mean anything. But as I’ve been trying hard to process where I am in light of recent and current discussions at Dash’s and Dwight’s blogs, I don’t doubt that Tuesday night’s dream was my brain working overtime. I found myself in the Lutheran church where I was confirmed, with Dash and her mother (they’ve never been there), a collection

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1121217091936677432005-07-12T19:55:00.000-05:002005-07-12T21:25:01.720-05:00

On my way home from the Loop after work, we all had to get off the el at the Sedgwick stop and catch another train. As the train hadn’t given any appearance of malfunction (doors refusing to close, stopping between stops for no apparent reason, etc.) my brain got going: I thought, there’s been a bomb threat. Yes. The Chicago Tribune reports that the Purple Line was shut down because of a threat.

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1121023882259036212005-07-10T14:25:00.000-05:002005-07-10T14:31:22.266-05:00

Friday I made what was, for me, an amazing discovery: My body can, in fact, produce the much-lauded endorphins after physical exercise. To make sure, I tested it out again yesterday, and yup! I’ve got those lovely little brain chemicals. How did this discovery elude me for decades? Running was no help—I never got any “runner’s high,” probably because I never lasted long enough to trigger those

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1119736799304583402005-06-25T16:58:00.000-05:002005-06-25T16:59:59.313-05:00

My long-intended follow-up to this has been delayed mostly by clumsy attempts to understand the issues facing Catholic dissenters. It also seems somewhat presumptuous, as I’m not Catholic—what can an outsider know and feel? But because the Anglican Communion has been in conversation with Rome for quite some time, exploring common ground (raising some Anglicans’ hopes for reunification), it does

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1118612755628385142005-06-12T16:44:00.000-05:002005-06-12T16:45:55.633-05:00

Today was the first time since September 28, 2003 that I’ve attended a Sunday morning Eucharist in an Episcopal church. It is only the third time I’ve received the Eucharist in an Episcopal church during my sabbatical, the previous times having been at funerals this year. It’s about the fourth time I’ve attended church on a Sunday morning, the other times being a visitor at my friend Dash’s

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1117296164751197662005-05-28T10:11:00.000-05:002005-05-28T11:09:29.566-05:00

LutheranChik’s musings on sanctification have triggered some processing. In particular, she observed: My own dad, on one of the rare occasions when he waxed theological, tried explaining to me that the Sermon on the Mount was designed not to actually give us guidance in living but simply to make us feel so guilty about our inability to follow Jesus’ impossible instructions that we’d be driven

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1116720707814885972005-05-21T19:03:00.000-05:002005-05-23T18:07:48.340-05:00

Or, Teaching an Old Dog New Tricks The old dog would be me. The new trick would be my concept of time. When I was a new dog, life was lived often in kairos: time without measure, also sometimes referred to as “God’s time.” Crops growing, animals gestating, the seasons—all follow a schedule not imposed by a clock. Chronological time, chronos, has no meaning. Impatience holds no sway over kairos.

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1116286444595116592005-05-16T18:31:00.000-05:002005-05-16T18:34:04.600-05:00

An institution is about the status quo; a prophet isn’t. An institution can be immensely successful, long-lived, and have much good to its credit—even beauty. It might even be a pearl, but a prophet is always a grain of sand. The oyster needs the irritant in order to form a pearl, but once a pearl is formed, can it want any more sand?

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1115263320274318402005-05-04T23:03:00.000-05:002005-05-04T23:04:04.500-05:00

Remember the wise-acre comeback for any question with an obvious answer? (“Is Michael Jordan the best basketball player ever?” “Is the Pope Catholic?”) Not being Catholic, I’ve been safely ensconced in the peanut gallery, watching all the hoopla surrounding the papal selection process. So many possible angles from which to approach, so many levels on which to observe (if not participate). You

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1114836725743595362005-04-29T23:16:00.000-05:002005-04-29T23:52:05.746-05:00

And it’s not necessarily a bad thing. It’s just extremely difficult to settle down after something like tonight. Tonight was the first concert in the 2005 Bach Week Festival in Evanston (first ’burb north of Chicago). I sing in the festival chorus; we have three concerts to go (Sunday evening, and then next weekend Friday and Sunday evenings). The chorus is really hitting its stride in its

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1114748330591123872005-04-28T22:43:00.000-05:002005-04-28T23:18:50.596-05:00

Yep, I can do both at once. Mainly because I’m ba-a-a-a-ack. My dead computer was not resurrected. I bought a new one, which arrived today. A bigger, better, faster one. Hence the rejoicing. Mistakes I made with the last computer (not whining, yet, though): 1) I opted for middle-of-the-road in what was available two years and one month ago, and learned just how fast obsolescence can set in. So

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1114436243957874442005-04-25T08:35:00.000-05:002005-04-25T08:37:23.956-05:00

My home computer's hard drive bit the dust last Friday, so I'm out of commission until I can remedy the situation. (Drat and curses!)

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1113959973603887702005-04-19T20:18:00.000-05:002005-04-19T20:28:30.060-05:00

I’m tremendously interested in how people learn. Everything I run across about the brain, I read. But knowing something about the brain’s potential is only a starting point. The more I read, study, and work with people, the more I believe that the most important ingredients are expectations and imagination. Maybe in that order, maybe not. I like what Carl Sagan had to say (though he was

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1113770749116030762005-04-17T15:21:00.000-05:002005-04-17T15:45:49.130-05:00

I’m reposting my commentary, which first appeared under the handle of Julesrud here (it’s the post that got me into my own blog--for good or for ill). Though it concerns the ordination and marriage of gays and lesbians in the Episcopal Church, I believe that one could substitute any of the issues facing the Roman Catholic Church as the conclave to select a new Pope begins tomorrow. Dissidents see

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1112756018874094272005-04-05T21:49:00.000-05:002005-04-05T21:58:52.963-05:00

This isn’t fully baked, but I’m putting it out there, anyway. Too many questions, and not enough conclusions. Anybody who requires certitude, look elsewhere. The Pope’s death, coming two days after Terri Schiavo’s, has provoked comparisons between their ends. A man with enormous power who doesn’t shun suffering is linked with a woman whose name none of us would ever have known but for the battle

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1111798883978207502005-03-25T18:53:00.000-06:002005-03-25T19:17:11.286-06:00

When a lawsuit drags on forever, through multiple levels of courts, it seems to be a tip-off that wisdom is in short supply for one or more of the parties. My first hearing of Terri Schiavo’s case was in the Court of Public Opinion. My opinions were formed based on mass media reports. First I thought Michael Schiavo’s story smelled a bit; his motives seemed questionable. Then I began to think

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1110772885944641982005-03-13T21:58:00.000-06:002005-03-13T22:01:25.946-06:00

MSNBC called this “The book that’s too hot for Rolling Stone.”Chicago Sun-Times columnist Cathleen Falsani reports in her Friday, January 28, 2005 posting “God is everywhere -- except pages of Rolling Stone” that RS originally rejected an ad placement by Zondervan Publishing for its new Bible translation, Today’s New International Version [TNIV].I wasn’t at all surprised that RS would reject an

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1110420541262800862005-03-09T20:04:00.000-06:002005-03-09T20:10:56.880-06:00

Some imp in my brain’s backside bounced this memory up front. When I was 16, I played organ for my boyfriend’s brother’s wedding—the first wedding I ever played for. (Future topic alert: Wedding stories.) Because the wedding was held rather far away, I stayed overnight with the bride and bridesmaids the night before the wedding (boyfriend and his family stayed with the groom), and thus I was

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1110142722601747042005-03-06T15:03:00.000-06:002005-03-06T15:08:45.210-06:00

Yesterday was Michael Lefkow’s funeral. News coverage has been extensive: Chicago Sun-Times; Chicago Tribune here and here; and Channel 2 news. So I don’t need to be another reporter. I saw enough of them yesterday. But the funeral was significant in coming to terms with lessons I’ve learned and with Michael’s and Donna’s horrible deaths. So many layers to one event. Back in a grade-school

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1109731010865857322005-03-01T20:38:00.000-06:002005-03-01T22:12:45.653-06:00

Long before I set up this blog, I’d had topics upstairs that I’d planned at some point to bring to the blogosphere. I’ve even worked on fleshing out some of them-–no small feat for someone who has almost never willingly sat down to write. But they were all swept to the side by what happened yesterday. A friend of mine was murdered, along with his mother-in-law. If you want the details, look here

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1109448805553395482005-02-26T14:13:00.000-06:002005-02-26T14:13:25.553-06:00

me 

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11101831.post-1109444379755190592005-02-26T13:31:00.000-06:002005-02-26T13:32:52.120-06:00

I've been a bag lady my whole life. No, I'm not minimizing the plight of homeless people. I'm a spiritual and social nomad. And as with many such people on the margins, I'm either ignored or a lightning rod. But I finally came to terms with that. Now I feel free to offer my observations, knowing that most of the time they'll either be ignored or draw wrath. Occasionally they'll resonate in a

Bag Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16664846951194175105noreply@blogger.com3