I replied: “I am a Christian, and I have ZERO fear of being labeled liberal, though I prefer progressive.” Yes, we need SOME designation to counter the narrative. You KNOW I’ve spent a lot of space in this blog both claiming my faith and saying, essentially, I’m not “like them,” so I’d rather make a positive assertion, rather than be anti a negative one.
I found a Coptic (Egyptian Orthodox) service in Albany.
After my rebaptism event, I was surprised to find that I felt no particular need to start going back to church. But I got a girlfriend in the fall of 1978, and Susan attended the Unitarian Church in Schenectady. I tried it, and it it didn’t “take.” I was in the choir briefly, though the music never connected with me.
More to the point, it seemed that some of the policy discussions were silly, such as whether candles were “papist,” undoubtedly the concern of some lapsed Roman Catholics. Candles are CANDLES! I went to church on Christmas eve, either that year or the next, at a Catholic church, as I recall.
There are lots of terms just alienate some people. Black Lives Matter. White privilege. Institutional racism.
Arthur, the executive producer of the vast AmeriNZ empire wonders:
How do you reconcile agreeing philosophically with people, yet being #@$%*! annoyed with them? I’m thinking of political activists, religious people, whatever. Generally speaking, do you tend to focus on the agreement and ignore what annoys you, or does your annoyance prevent you from acknowledging the agreement?
I used to have this brother-in-law. Back in 1977, my gypsy year, I crashed on his and my sister’s sofa during the summer. They lived in Queens, but he and I occasionally went into Manhattan on the subway. He was all into renewable energy, the kind of ideas President Jimmy Carter was talking about – and America largely rejected. But BIL was a sanctimonious pain, who would point out the foibles of other people – “No one is talking to each other” – while oblivious to his own.
One of the lovely things about December 24, Christmas Eve, pretty much since 1983, is that I know what I’ll be doing that evening: singing in church.
Back in the 1980s, the service at the Methodist church started at 10:30 p.m., and ended about midnight; when I went home, it was almost always snowing lightly. The service at my current church Continue reading “Christmas Eve 2015”