Thursday, September 24, 2009
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
The Academic Life
I grew up in the home of a professor and at a very young age I already grew to resent people who claimed professors didn't work very hard. I knew how many evenings and weekends my father spent marking papers or prepping classes or working on an article or reading books for review. I knew that every summer when we went on holidays he packed his briefcase filled with books that needed to be read while we played cards or read novels. One year he kept track of his hours because he was tired of the same comments. He averaged 75 hours a week of work that year. It was a normal year.
He didn't resent it however. He loved his work. He loved research and writing and he loved teaching. He shared his love with me, taught me to do research, involved me in his projects, taught me how to grade papers by showing me how he did it. I spent afternoons at the university with him, meeting his colleagues, listening to their conversations about their research or something they had just read.
I still get angry at people who dismiss university faculty, who diminish the work that goes on there, that advocate the kinds of funding cuts that jeopardize opportunities for young academics and force class sizes larger and larger.
So I was delighted to read this article by Clifford Orwin in the Globe and Mail! I love his closing paragraph.
We should all be so sappy about our work!
He didn't resent it however. He loved his work. He loved research and writing and he loved teaching. He shared his love with me, taught me to do research, involved me in his projects, taught me how to grade papers by showing me how he did it. I spent afternoons at the university with him, meeting his colleagues, listening to their conversations about their research or something they had just read.
I still get angry at people who dismiss university faculty, who diminish the work that goes on there, that advocate the kinds of funding cuts that jeopardize opportunities for young academics and force class sizes larger and larger.
So I was delighted to read this article by Clifford Orwin in the Globe and Mail! I love his closing paragraph.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not seeking your sympathy. I differ from a tree in that my sap rises twice yearly – once in the spring with the approach of research season, and once in the fall with the return of the cycle to teaching. While I would rather teach fewer students, you shouldn't confuse that with wanting to do less teaching. My colleagues appear equally sappy. Teaching may not be our only business, but we're serious about it.
We should all be so sappy about our work!
Monday, September 21, 2009
Living without Electronics - Edited
This weekend I spent 24 hours without my laptop and only checking the time on my ipod once. Not a big deal you think? It was to me. It felt great. I read, I played a game that used only dice and no electricity, I talked and laughed with a friend, I went for walks and looked at the world around me.
Over on Front Porch Republic today there is a post about the environmental and personal costs of our dependence on electronics. It is pushing me to contemplate a regular sabbath from my electronics for the planet and for my own sanity.
You can read it here. Didn't notice the piece was by Patrick Deneen. Should have realized. I find his blog really challenging. So you can also read the piece here.
Over on Front Porch Republic today there is a post about the environmental and personal costs of our dependence on electronics. It is pushing me to contemplate a regular sabbath from my electronics for the planet and for my own sanity.
You can read it here. Didn't notice the piece was by Patrick Deneen. Should have realized. I find his blog really challenging. So you can also read the piece here.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
President Obama's eulogy for Ted Kennedy
Mrs. Kennedy, Kara, Edward, Patrick, Curran, Caroline, members of the Kennedy family, distinguished guests, and fellow citizens: Today we say goodbye to the youngest child of Rose and Joseph Kennedy. The world will long remember their son Edward as the heir to a weighty legacy; a champion for those who had none; the soul of the Democratic Party; and the lion of the U.S. Senate – a man whose name graces nearly one thousand laws, and who penned more than three hundred himself.
But those of us who loved him, and ache with his passing, know Ted Kennedy by the other titles he held: Father. Brother. Husband. Uncle Teddy, or as he was often known to his younger nieces and nephews, “The Grand Fromage,” or “The Big Cheese.” I, like so many others in the city where he worked for nearly half a century, knew him as a colleague, a mentor, and above all, a friend.
Ted Kennedy was the baby of the family who became its patriarch; the restless dreamer who became its rock. He was the sunny, joyful child, who bore the brunt of his brothers' teasing, but learned quickly how to brush it off. When they tossed him off a boat because he didn't know what a jib was, six-year-old Teddy got back in and learned to sail. When a photographer asked the newly elected Bobby to step back at a press conference because he was casting a shadow on his younger brother, Teddy quipped, “It'll be the same in Washington.”
This spirit of resilience and good humor would see Ted Kennedy through more pain and tragedy than most of us will ever know. He lost two siblings by the age of sixteen. He saw two more taken violently from the country that loved them. He said goodbye to his beloved sister, Eunice, in the final days of his own life. He narrowly survived a plane crash, watched two children struggle with cancer, buried three nephews, and experienced personal failings and setbacks in the most public way possible.
It is a string of events that would have broken a lesser man. And it would have been easy for Teddy to let himself become bitter and hardened; to surrender to self-pity and regret; to retreat from public life and live out his years in peaceful quiet. No one would have blamed him for that.
But that was not Ted Kennedy. As he told us, “(I)ndividual faults and frailties are no excuse to give in – and no exemption from the common obligation to give of ourselves.” Indeed, Ted was the “Happy Warrior” that the poet William Wordsworth spoke of when he wrote: As tempted more; more able to endure, As more exposed to suffering and distress; Thence, also, more alive to tenderness.
Through his own suffering, Ted Kennedy became more alive to the plight and suffering of others – the sick child who could not see a doctor; the young soldier sent to battle without armor; the citizen denied her rights because of what she looks like or who she loves or where she comes from. The landmark laws that he championed – the Civil Rights Act, the Americans with Disabilities Act, immigration reform, children's health care, the Family and Medical Leave Act – all have a running thread. Ted Kennedy's life's work was not to champion those with wealth or power or special connections. It was to give a voice to those who were not heard; to add a rung to the ladder of opportunity; to make real the dream of our founding. He was given the gift of time that his brothers were not, and he used that gift to touch as many lives and right as many wrongs as the years would allow.
We can still hear his voice bellowing through the Senate chamber, face reddened, fist pounding the podium, a veritable force of nature, in support of health care or workers' rights or civil rights. And yet, while his causes became deeply personal, his disagreements never did. While he was seen by his fiercest critics as a partisan lightning rod, that is not the prism through which Ted Kennedy saw the world, nor was it the prism through which his colleagues saw him. He was a product of an age when the joy and nobility of politics prevented differences of party and philosophy from becoming barriers to cooperation and mutual respect – a time when adversaries still saw each other as patriots.
And that's how Ted Kennedy became the greatest legislator of our time. He did it by hewing to principle, but also by seeking compromise and common cause – not through dealmaking and horse-trading alone, but through friendship, and kindness, and humor. There was the time he courted Orrin Hatch's support for the Children's Health Insurance Program by having his chief of staff serenade the senator with a song Orrin had written himself; the time he delivered shamrock cookies on a china plate to sweeten up a crusty Republican colleague; and the famous story of how he won the support of a Texas committee chairman on an immigration bill. Teddy walked into a meeting with a plain manila envelope, and showed only the chairman that it was filled with the Texan's favorite cigars. When the negotiations were going well, he would inch the envelope closer to the chairman. When they weren't, he would pull it back. Before long, the deal was done.
It was only a few years ago, on St. Patrick's Day, when Teddy buttonholed me on the floor of the Senate for my support on a certain piece of legislation that was coming up for vote. I gave him my pledge, but expressed my skepticism that it would pass. But when the roll call was over, the bill garnered the votes it needed, and then some. I looked at Teddy with astonishment and asked how he had pulled it off. He just patted me on the back, and said “Luck of the Irish!”
Of course, luck had little to do with Ted Kennedy's legislative success, and he knew that. A few years ago, his father-in-law told him that he and Daniel Webster just might be the two greatest senators of all time. Without missing a beat, Teddy replied, “What did Webster do?”
But though it is Ted Kennedy's historic body of achievements we will remember, it is his giving heart that we will miss. It was the friend and colleague who was always the first to pick up the phone and say, “I'm sorry for your loss,” or “I hope you feel better,” or “What can I do to help?” It was the boss who was so adored by his staff that over five hundred spanning five decades showed up for his 75th birthday party. It was the man who sent birthday wishes and thank you notes and even his own paintings to so many who never imagined that a U.S. senator would take the time to think about someone like them. I have one of those paintings in my private study – a Cape Cod seascape that was a gift to a freshman legislator who happened to admire it when Ted Kennedy welcomed him into his office the first week he arrived in Washington; by the way, that's my second favorite gift from Teddy and Vicki after our dog Bo. And it seems like everyone has one of those stories – the ones that often start with “You wouldn't believe who called me today.”
Ted Kennedy was the father who looked after not only his own three children, but John's and Bobby's as well. He took them camping and taught them to sail. He laughed and danced with them at birthdays and weddings; cried and mourned with them through hardship and tragedy; and passed on that same sense of service and selflessness that his parents had instilled in him. Shortly after Ted walked Caroline down the aisle and gave her away at the altar, he received a note from Jackie that read, “On you the carefree youngest brother fell a burden a hero would have begged to be spared. We are all going to make it because you were always there with your love.”
Not only did the Kennedy family make it because of Ted's love – he made it because of theirs; and especially because of the love and the life he found in Vicki. After so much loss and so much sorrow, it could not have been easy for Ted Kennedy to risk his heart again. That he did is a testament to how deeply he loved this remarkable woman from Louisiana. And she didn't just love him back. As Ted would often acknowledge, Vicki saved him. She gave him strength and purpose; joy and friendship; and stood by him always, especially in those last, hardest days.
We cannot know for certain how long we have here. We cannot foresee the trials or misfortunes that will test us along the way. We cannot know God's plan for us.
What we can do is to live out our lives as best we can with purpose, and love, and joy. We can use each day to show those who are closest to us how much we care about them, and treat others with the kindness and respect that we wish for ourselves. We can learn from our mistakes and grow from our failures. And we can strive at all costs to make a better world, so that someday, if we are blessed with the chance to look back on our time here, we can know that we spent it well; that we made a difference; that our fleeting presence had a lasting impact on the lives of other human beings.
This is how Ted Kennedy lived. This is his legacy. He once said of his brother Bobby that he need not be idealized or enlarged in death beyond what he was in life, and I imagine he would say the same about himself. The greatest expectations were placed upon Ted Kennedy's shoulders because of who he was, but he surpassed them all because of who he became. We do not weep for him today because of the prestige attached to his name or his office. We weep because we loved this kind and tender hero who persevered through pain and tragedy – not for the sake of ambition or vanity; not for wealth or power; but only for the people and the country he loved.
In the days after September 11th, Teddy made it a point to personally call each one of the 177 families of this state who lost a loved one in the attack. But he didn't stop there. He kept calling and checking up on them. He fought through red tape to get them assistance and grief counseling. He invited them sailing, played with their children, and would write each family a letter whenever the anniversary of that terrible day came along. To one widow, he wrote the following: “As you know so well, the passage of time never really heals the tragic memory of such a great loss, but we carry on, because we have to, because our loved one would want us to, and because there is still light to guide us in the world from the love they gave us.”
We carry on.
Ted Kennedy has gone home now, guided by his faith and by the light of those he has loved and lost. At last he is with them once more, leaving those of us who grieve his passing with the memories he gave, the good he did, the dream he kept alive, and a single, enduring image – the image of a man on a boat; white mane tousled; smiling broadly as he sails into the wind, ready for what storms may come, carrying on toward some new and wondrous place just beyond the horizon. May God Bless Ted Kennedy, and may he rest in eternal peace.
Found here.
But those of us who loved him, and ache with his passing, know Ted Kennedy by the other titles he held: Father. Brother. Husband. Uncle Teddy, or as he was often known to his younger nieces and nephews, “The Grand Fromage,” or “The Big Cheese.” I, like so many others in the city where he worked for nearly half a century, knew him as a colleague, a mentor, and above all, a friend.
Ted Kennedy was the baby of the family who became its patriarch; the restless dreamer who became its rock. He was the sunny, joyful child, who bore the brunt of his brothers' teasing, but learned quickly how to brush it off. When they tossed him off a boat because he didn't know what a jib was, six-year-old Teddy got back in and learned to sail. When a photographer asked the newly elected Bobby to step back at a press conference because he was casting a shadow on his younger brother, Teddy quipped, “It'll be the same in Washington.”
This spirit of resilience and good humor would see Ted Kennedy through more pain and tragedy than most of us will ever know. He lost two siblings by the age of sixteen. He saw two more taken violently from the country that loved them. He said goodbye to his beloved sister, Eunice, in the final days of his own life. He narrowly survived a plane crash, watched two children struggle with cancer, buried three nephews, and experienced personal failings and setbacks in the most public way possible.
It is a string of events that would have broken a lesser man. And it would have been easy for Teddy to let himself become bitter and hardened; to surrender to self-pity and regret; to retreat from public life and live out his years in peaceful quiet. No one would have blamed him for that.
But that was not Ted Kennedy. As he told us, “(I)ndividual faults and frailties are no excuse to give in – and no exemption from the common obligation to give of ourselves.” Indeed, Ted was the “Happy Warrior” that the poet William Wordsworth spoke of when he wrote: As tempted more; more able to endure, As more exposed to suffering and distress; Thence, also, more alive to tenderness.
Through his own suffering, Ted Kennedy became more alive to the plight and suffering of others – the sick child who could not see a doctor; the young soldier sent to battle without armor; the citizen denied her rights because of what she looks like or who she loves or where she comes from. The landmark laws that he championed – the Civil Rights Act, the Americans with Disabilities Act, immigration reform, children's health care, the Family and Medical Leave Act – all have a running thread. Ted Kennedy's life's work was not to champion those with wealth or power or special connections. It was to give a voice to those who were not heard; to add a rung to the ladder of opportunity; to make real the dream of our founding. He was given the gift of time that his brothers were not, and he used that gift to touch as many lives and right as many wrongs as the years would allow.
We can still hear his voice bellowing through the Senate chamber, face reddened, fist pounding the podium, a veritable force of nature, in support of health care or workers' rights or civil rights. And yet, while his causes became deeply personal, his disagreements never did. While he was seen by his fiercest critics as a partisan lightning rod, that is not the prism through which Ted Kennedy saw the world, nor was it the prism through which his colleagues saw him. He was a product of an age when the joy and nobility of politics prevented differences of party and philosophy from becoming barriers to cooperation and mutual respect – a time when adversaries still saw each other as patriots.
And that's how Ted Kennedy became the greatest legislator of our time. He did it by hewing to principle, but also by seeking compromise and common cause – not through dealmaking and horse-trading alone, but through friendship, and kindness, and humor. There was the time he courted Orrin Hatch's support for the Children's Health Insurance Program by having his chief of staff serenade the senator with a song Orrin had written himself; the time he delivered shamrock cookies on a china plate to sweeten up a crusty Republican colleague; and the famous story of how he won the support of a Texas committee chairman on an immigration bill. Teddy walked into a meeting with a plain manila envelope, and showed only the chairman that it was filled with the Texan's favorite cigars. When the negotiations were going well, he would inch the envelope closer to the chairman. When they weren't, he would pull it back. Before long, the deal was done.
It was only a few years ago, on St. Patrick's Day, when Teddy buttonholed me on the floor of the Senate for my support on a certain piece of legislation that was coming up for vote. I gave him my pledge, but expressed my skepticism that it would pass. But when the roll call was over, the bill garnered the votes it needed, and then some. I looked at Teddy with astonishment and asked how he had pulled it off. He just patted me on the back, and said “Luck of the Irish!”
Of course, luck had little to do with Ted Kennedy's legislative success, and he knew that. A few years ago, his father-in-law told him that he and Daniel Webster just might be the two greatest senators of all time. Without missing a beat, Teddy replied, “What did Webster do?”
But though it is Ted Kennedy's historic body of achievements we will remember, it is his giving heart that we will miss. It was the friend and colleague who was always the first to pick up the phone and say, “I'm sorry for your loss,” or “I hope you feel better,” or “What can I do to help?” It was the boss who was so adored by his staff that over five hundred spanning five decades showed up for his 75th birthday party. It was the man who sent birthday wishes and thank you notes and even his own paintings to so many who never imagined that a U.S. senator would take the time to think about someone like them. I have one of those paintings in my private study – a Cape Cod seascape that was a gift to a freshman legislator who happened to admire it when Ted Kennedy welcomed him into his office the first week he arrived in Washington; by the way, that's my second favorite gift from Teddy and Vicki after our dog Bo. And it seems like everyone has one of those stories – the ones that often start with “You wouldn't believe who called me today.”
Ted Kennedy was the father who looked after not only his own three children, but John's and Bobby's as well. He took them camping and taught them to sail. He laughed and danced with them at birthdays and weddings; cried and mourned with them through hardship and tragedy; and passed on that same sense of service and selflessness that his parents had instilled in him. Shortly after Ted walked Caroline down the aisle and gave her away at the altar, he received a note from Jackie that read, “On you the carefree youngest brother fell a burden a hero would have begged to be spared. We are all going to make it because you were always there with your love.”
Not only did the Kennedy family make it because of Ted's love – he made it because of theirs; and especially because of the love and the life he found in Vicki. After so much loss and so much sorrow, it could not have been easy for Ted Kennedy to risk his heart again. That he did is a testament to how deeply he loved this remarkable woman from Louisiana. And she didn't just love him back. As Ted would often acknowledge, Vicki saved him. She gave him strength and purpose; joy and friendship; and stood by him always, especially in those last, hardest days.
We cannot know for certain how long we have here. We cannot foresee the trials or misfortunes that will test us along the way. We cannot know God's plan for us.
What we can do is to live out our lives as best we can with purpose, and love, and joy. We can use each day to show those who are closest to us how much we care about them, and treat others with the kindness and respect that we wish for ourselves. We can learn from our mistakes and grow from our failures. And we can strive at all costs to make a better world, so that someday, if we are blessed with the chance to look back on our time here, we can know that we spent it well; that we made a difference; that our fleeting presence had a lasting impact on the lives of other human beings.
This is how Ted Kennedy lived. This is his legacy. He once said of his brother Bobby that he need not be idealized or enlarged in death beyond what he was in life, and I imagine he would say the same about himself. The greatest expectations were placed upon Ted Kennedy's shoulders because of who he was, but he surpassed them all because of who he became. We do not weep for him today because of the prestige attached to his name or his office. We weep because we loved this kind and tender hero who persevered through pain and tragedy – not for the sake of ambition or vanity; not for wealth or power; but only for the people and the country he loved.
In the days after September 11th, Teddy made it a point to personally call each one of the 177 families of this state who lost a loved one in the attack. But he didn't stop there. He kept calling and checking up on them. He fought through red tape to get them assistance and grief counseling. He invited them sailing, played with their children, and would write each family a letter whenever the anniversary of that terrible day came along. To one widow, he wrote the following: “As you know so well, the passage of time never really heals the tragic memory of such a great loss, but we carry on, because we have to, because our loved one would want us to, and because there is still light to guide us in the world from the love they gave us.”
We carry on.
Ted Kennedy has gone home now, guided by his faith and by the light of those he has loved and lost. At last he is with them once more, leaving those of us who grieve his passing with the memories he gave, the good he did, the dream he kept alive, and a single, enduring image – the image of a man on a boat; white mane tousled; smiling broadly as he sails into the wind, ready for what storms may come, carrying on toward some new and wondrous place just beyond the horizon. May God Bless Ted Kennedy, and may he rest in eternal peace.
Found here.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Not sure how this is going to go over
July 30, 2009
Loving your Neighbor as you love Yourself: Responding to H1N1
When the Synod of the Province of Rupert’s Land met in Calgary in June a Motion was passed expressing concern for the communities affected by the current flu pandemic. The H1N1 flu has seriously afflicted many First Nations communities in the northern parts of our country, and is beginning to appear in more southern towns and cities. I am sure that you are aware of this concern and are remembering our brothers and sisters in Christ in the Prayers of the People each time you gather to express your love for the Lord our God.
However I am writing to you at this time to bring to your attention steps which you can take to physically protect yourself and all who come to our church buildings for worship and fellowship. To undertake these simple acts will be an expression of your love for your neighbor even as you love yourself.
1. Hand-washing
There should be signage with clear instructions in church washrooms and kitchens instructing people to wash their hands with soap and hot water. Kitchen users should develop the habit of first washing their hands before they begin handling food and beverage. Altar Guild members should wash their hands before they begin the work of preparing the altar. Is there soap, water, and paper towels available in these areas in the church building?
2. Hand-cleanser
Our churches and halls are open to the Public. Making an antiseptic hand-sanitizer available at the entrances to the building, washrooms, meeting rooms with a Sign asking people to make use of it is a positive preventive act.
3. Distributing Holy Communion
Everyone who will be touching the bread and wine in the preparation of the altar during the service and in the distribution of the consecrated elements should use a hand-sanitizer immediately prior to assisting with the preparation and distribution.
4. Receiving Holy Communion
It is recommended that hand-sanitizer be available for people to use as they come forward to receive Holy Communion.
Intinction (dipping the bread into the chalice) is not to be practiced. In concert with other dioceses intinction is no longer an acceptable practice in the Diocese of Calgary since it is a significant health hazard. Research, though limited, has indicated the use of the common cup generally poses less risk of transferring bacteria than the practice of intinction.
If a person is concerned about receiving the common cup they are to be assured that communion in one kind, receiving the bread only, is an acceptable tradition within the Anglican Church. They could be instructed to simple touch the base of the chalice as the words of administration are said.
The use of a silver chalice, wine with an alcohol content of at least 12% or higher, and a clean purificator provide some protection to the less virulent bacteria that are constantly with us; however, H1N1 is an uncommon strain and therefore extra precautions must be taken.
5. Exchange of the Peace
As one diocese has announced, “social distancing is NOT to be discouraged”. Much as we may desire to greet each other with a hug it is best to refrain from doing so. Although a hand-shake is still an acceptable form of greeting, if H1N1 becomes more active we will have to curtail even a hand-shake and simply greet each other with eye-contact, a smile, a bow, or some such peace greeting sign.
6. Church Attendance
If you are not feeling well, have flu-like symptoms, or think that you might be coming down with something, the loving act is to stay home and take care of yourself. Be sure to let your minister know so that your church family can be supportive.
7. Pastoral Visits
Clergy and laity who make home visits on behalf of the parish should carry a hand-sanitizer with them and use it at the beginning and at the end of a visit. If you are visiting a person who is under the care of a health practitioner, you will of course follow their instructions in order to protect both the patient and yourself.
During the month of August the Diocese will be developing a pandemic response policy and this will be circulated to all parishes.
Much of what I have written is common sense and you are already doing it. Some of the items may be new and I ask that you begin to put them into practice. We are indeed commanded to love our neighbor as ourselves and taking precautions to guard against the spread of H1N1 is one way in which we can honor our Lord’s Summary of the Law.
God be with you,
+Derek
The Rt. Rev. Derek Hoskin
Bishop of Calgary
180, 1209 59 Avenue SE
Calgary AB T2H 2P6
Loving your Neighbor as you love Yourself: Responding to H1N1
When the Synod of the Province of Rupert’s Land met in Calgary in June a Motion was passed expressing concern for the communities affected by the current flu pandemic. The H1N1 flu has seriously afflicted many First Nations communities in the northern parts of our country, and is beginning to appear in more southern towns and cities. I am sure that you are aware of this concern and are remembering our brothers and sisters in Christ in the Prayers of the People each time you gather to express your love for the Lord our God.
However I am writing to you at this time to bring to your attention steps which you can take to physically protect yourself and all who come to our church buildings for worship and fellowship. To undertake these simple acts will be an expression of your love for your neighbor even as you love yourself.
1. Hand-washing
There should be signage with clear instructions in church washrooms and kitchens instructing people to wash their hands with soap and hot water. Kitchen users should develop the habit of first washing their hands before they begin handling food and beverage. Altar Guild members should wash their hands before they begin the work of preparing the altar. Is there soap, water, and paper towels available in these areas in the church building?
2. Hand-cleanser
Our churches and halls are open to the Public. Making an antiseptic hand-sanitizer available at the entrances to the building, washrooms, meeting rooms with a Sign asking people to make use of it is a positive preventive act.
3. Distributing Holy Communion
Everyone who will be touching the bread and wine in the preparation of the altar during the service and in the distribution of the consecrated elements should use a hand-sanitizer immediately prior to assisting with the preparation and distribution.
4. Receiving Holy Communion
It is recommended that hand-sanitizer be available for people to use as they come forward to receive Holy Communion.
Intinction (dipping the bread into the chalice) is not to be practiced. In concert with other dioceses intinction is no longer an acceptable practice in the Diocese of Calgary since it is a significant health hazard. Research, though limited, has indicated the use of the common cup generally poses less risk of transferring bacteria than the practice of intinction.
If a person is concerned about receiving the common cup they are to be assured that communion in one kind, receiving the bread only, is an acceptable tradition within the Anglican Church. They could be instructed to simple touch the base of the chalice as the words of administration are said.
The use of a silver chalice, wine with an alcohol content of at least 12% or higher, and a clean purificator provide some protection to the less virulent bacteria that are constantly with us; however, H1N1 is an uncommon strain and therefore extra precautions must be taken.
5. Exchange of the Peace
As one diocese has announced, “social distancing is NOT to be discouraged”. Much as we may desire to greet each other with a hug it is best to refrain from doing so. Although a hand-shake is still an acceptable form of greeting, if H1N1 becomes more active we will have to curtail even a hand-shake and simply greet each other with eye-contact, a smile, a bow, or some such peace greeting sign.
6. Church Attendance
If you are not feeling well, have flu-like symptoms, or think that you might be coming down with something, the loving act is to stay home and take care of yourself. Be sure to let your minister know so that your church family can be supportive.
7. Pastoral Visits
Clergy and laity who make home visits on behalf of the parish should carry a hand-sanitizer with them and use it at the beginning and at the end of a visit. If you are visiting a person who is under the care of a health practitioner, you will of course follow their instructions in order to protect both the patient and yourself.
During the month of August the Diocese will be developing a pandemic response policy and this will be circulated to all parishes.
Much of what I have written is common sense and you are already doing it. Some of the items may be new and I ask that you begin to put them into practice. We are indeed commanded to love our neighbor as ourselves and taking precautions to guard against the spread of H1N1 is one way in which we can honor our Lord’s Summary of the Law.
God be with you,
+Derek
The Rt. Rev. Derek Hoskin
Bishop of Calgary
180, 1209 59 Avenue SE
Calgary AB T2H 2P6
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Paul Phillips, Nov. 3, 1938-July 16, 2008
Fifty Things You May Not Have Known About My Dad
1. he was born in Hong Kong, the son of missionaries
2. he could still count in Cantonese decades later
3. he lived on a commune as a kid
4. his first degree was in chemistry
5. he loved going down into caves and mines
6. he would rather spend two hours making something than buy it even if it cost a dollar and did carpentry and basic plumbing and electrical work
7. he built furniture, a 26’ sailboat and a house (with the help of family and friends)
8. he learned to play banjo from a record by Pete Seeger called “How to play the banjo”
9. he also played guitar, concertina, fiddle, mandolin, autoharp, bouzouki, piano and pretty much anything he put his hand to
10. he sang in the chorus of the Manitoba Opera for thirty years
11. he was the workshop stage manager for the Winnipeg Folk Festival
12. he skied, sailed, played hockey and tennis when he was younger, and until he moved to Vernon played polo
13. when he was asked how a socialist could play polo he said ‘nothin’s too good for the worker’
14. he sang Oggie Man to me when I couldn’t sleep and would sit up with me when I was sick
15. one of his favourite dishes was lamb stew and for years he got fresh oysters for Christmas breakfast
16. he loved really really bad puns and wrote poems to put on the tags of Christmas presents
17. he always bought special Christmas wrap that he only used for mom
18. he made his own beer and wine
19. he loved to play darts, especially with Peter
20. he could recite Albert and the Lion from memory
21. his handwriting was illegible even to him
22. he ran for the NDP federally and was campaign manager for William Deverell before Deverell began writing legal mysteries
23 he played crib with us in the evenings on summer holidays when he wasn’t reading mysteries
24. he loved Perry Mason and Charlie’s Angels and British mysteries on tv
25. he loved James Bond and Carry On movies
26 he painted with oils and did some wood carving when he was a young man - when he was older he turned his creative gifts to making toys for us and then for his grandchildren
27 he was a pilot in the Air Force
28 he liked the CFL and NHL but as a kid liked the Dodgers too
29 he was a Maple Leaf fan and loved Davy Keon
30 he played rugby when he was in the Air Force
31. he thought everyone should learn to type and to mend clothes
32. he learned Serbo-Croatian because he was teaching in Yugoslavia every spring
33. the older he got the more Welsh he got
34. he loved teaching and cared deeply about his students and colleagues although they may not have known it since he was pretty inward about his feelings
35. although he didn’t say much about how he felt he gave great hugs, held hands and gave smoochie kisses
36. he smoked a pipe and cigars for years and was really annoyed when he quit and mom didn’t notice for weeks
37. he loved Bruce Springsteen and Dr. Hook
38. he didn’t like sweets much but would get Goodies at the movies
39. he ate cheddar cheese on his apple pie
40. he ate a tomato every day - a cherry tomato from his garden was one of the last things he ate
41. he gave up wearing ties in the ‘70s because he said they served no purpose and were really uncomfortable
42. he didn’t like his middle name and wouldn’t use it
43. he loved to cook but wouldn’t follow recipes meaning he had a hard time replicating successes
44. he started baking cookies when he got older (presumably he followed recipes when he baked)
45. he always wanted to open a restaurant that specialized in soups
46. when he retired he began to write a column on economic issues for a seniors’ newspaper, started a Welsh men’s chorus, sang at Carnegie Hall and began to act
47. he could be phenomenally opinionated about everything especially things he didn’t know much about
48. but he also was interested in a phenomenally wide range of things and knew stuff about surprising things
49. although his mother drove him crazy he became more and more like her the older he got
and 50. this you probably did know, I really miss him
Things I've Inherited from My Father
a prominent chin
thick hair and a thick neck
square calves and knobby knees
a love of all sorts of music
the habit of resting my chin between my thumb and forefinger while sitting at my desk
a love of bubbly water
a love of tomatoes
a passion for social justice
a tendency to strong opinions
a tendency to get up on my soap box
a tendency to confuse matters of taste with moral judgments
a capacity for friendship with all sorts of people
a tendency to see the good in situations and people
an appreciation of the theatrical
a love of cooking without following a recipe
thanks Pops
1. he was born in Hong Kong, the son of missionaries
2. he could still count in Cantonese decades later
3. he lived on a commune as a kid
4. his first degree was in chemistry
5. he loved going down into caves and mines
6. he would rather spend two hours making something than buy it even if it cost a dollar and did carpentry and basic plumbing and electrical work
7. he built furniture, a 26’ sailboat and a house (with the help of family and friends)
8. he learned to play banjo from a record by Pete Seeger called “How to play the banjo”
9. he also played guitar, concertina, fiddle, mandolin, autoharp, bouzouki, piano and pretty much anything he put his hand to
10. he sang in the chorus of the Manitoba Opera for thirty years
11. he was the workshop stage manager for the Winnipeg Folk Festival
12. he skied, sailed, played hockey and tennis when he was younger, and until he moved to Vernon played polo
13. when he was asked how a socialist could play polo he said ‘nothin’s too good for the worker’
14. he sang Oggie Man to me when I couldn’t sleep and would sit up with me when I was sick
15. one of his favourite dishes was lamb stew and for years he got fresh oysters for Christmas breakfast
16. he loved really really bad puns and wrote poems to put on the tags of Christmas presents
17. he always bought special Christmas wrap that he only used for mom
18. he made his own beer and wine
19. he loved to play darts, especially with Peter
20. he could recite Albert and the Lion from memory
21. his handwriting was illegible even to him
22. he ran for the NDP federally and was campaign manager for William Deverell before Deverell began writing legal mysteries
23 he played crib with us in the evenings on summer holidays when he wasn’t reading mysteries
24. he loved Perry Mason and Charlie’s Angels and British mysteries on tv
25. he loved James Bond and Carry On movies
26 he painted with oils and did some wood carving when he was a young man - when he was older he turned his creative gifts to making toys for us and then for his grandchildren
27 he was a pilot in the Air Force
28 he liked the CFL and NHL but as a kid liked the Dodgers too
29 he was a Maple Leaf fan and loved Davy Keon
30 he played rugby when he was in the Air Force
31. he thought everyone should learn to type and to mend clothes
32. he learned Serbo-Croatian because he was teaching in Yugoslavia every spring
33. the older he got the more Welsh he got
34. he loved teaching and cared deeply about his students and colleagues although they may not have known it since he was pretty inward about his feelings
35. although he didn’t say much about how he felt he gave great hugs, held hands and gave smoochie kisses
36. he smoked a pipe and cigars for years and was really annoyed when he quit and mom didn’t notice for weeks
37. he loved Bruce Springsteen and Dr. Hook
38. he didn’t like sweets much but would get Goodies at the movies
39. he ate cheddar cheese on his apple pie
40. he ate a tomato every day - a cherry tomato from his garden was one of the last things he ate
41. he gave up wearing ties in the ‘70s because he said they served no purpose and were really uncomfortable
42. he didn’t like his middle name and wouldn’t use it
43. he loved to cook but wouldn’t follow recipes meaning he had a hard time replicating successes
44. he started baking cookies when he got older (presumably he followed recipes when he baked)
45. he always wanted to open a restaurant that specialized in soups
46. when he retired he began to write a column on economic issues for a seniors’ newspaper, started a Welsh men’s chorus, sang at Carnegie Hall and began to act
47. he could be phenomenally opinionated about everything especially things he didn’t know much about
48. but he also was interested in a phenomenally wide range of things and knew stuff about surprising things
49. although his mother drove him crazy he became more and more like her the older he got
and 50. this you probably did know, I really miss him
Things I've Inherited from My Father
a prominent chin
thick hair and a thick neck
square calves and knobby knees
a love of all sorts of music
the habit of resting my chin between my thumb and forefinger while sitting at my desk
a love of bubbly water
a love of tomatoes
a passion for social justice
a tendency to strong opinions
a tendency to get up on my soap box
a tendency to confuse matters of taste with moral judgments
a capacity for friendship with all sorts of people
a tendency to see the good in situations and people
an appreciation of the theatrical
a love of cooking without following a recipe
thanks Pops
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