Orthodixie

… certainly not FEmale?!

Attention college freshman: If you attend the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, you must no longer refer to yourself as a “freshman” because your school has determined that this term is offensive, inappropriate and sexist. Really. Going forward, we all need to refer to such students in a more “gender-inclusive” way. Sigh.

More here.

High & Dry/St George dunking booth

This past year has been a doozy.  I took a hiatus from regular podcasting to dedicate Fridays to actually being a “day off”.  I spoke at the annual Missions and Evangelism Conference with Fr Peter Gillquist (his last; memory eternal).  My first born was graduated from the High School for the Performing and Visual Arts.  Our parish hosted our diocesan Parish Life Conference.  There was Camp and the Clergy Symposium; I was also blessed to speak in Edmonton, Oklahoma City, and Fort Worth.  Daughter entered college; son began high school; baby girl in last year of elementary school; and the wife and I, thanks God, got a little older with each given day.

Then there was the whirlwind of events regarding my teacher, mentor, and friend:  Charles Caldwell.

Second pitch was a doozy!

All this, coupled with the normal activities of parish life, is to say:  whew (thanks God).

For those who still frequent this near-dormant blog:

The Misses and I will be away for a couple weeks in celebration of a quarter century of bliss.  Upon our return, it is my hope to begin blogging and podcasting again.  Oh, and there’s that book I’m supposed to be writing.

(Did I mention His Beatitude Ignatius IV, Patriarch of Antioch, and His Grace Basil, Bishop of the Diocese of Wichita and Mid-America will both be visiting Houston within the coming month?)

I covet your prayers.

Prior to his baptism, Dionysius grew up in a notable family in Athens, attended philosophical school at home and abroad, was married and had several children, and was a member of the highest court in Greece, the Areopagus. After his conversion to the True Faith, St. Paul made him Bishop of Athens. Eventually he left his wife and children for Christ and went with St. Paul in missionary travel. He travelled to Jerusalem specifically to see the Most Holy Theotokos and writes of his encounter in one of his books. He was also present at her Dormition.

Seeing St. Paul martyred in Rome, St. Dionysius desired to be a martyr as well. He went to Gaul, along with his presbyter Rusticus and the deacon Eleutherius, to preach the Gospel to the barbarians. There his suffering was equalled only by his success in converting many pagans to Christianity.

In the year 96, St. Dionysius was seized and tortured for Christ, along with Rusticus and Eleutherius, and all three were beheaded under the reign of the Emperor Domitian. St. Dionysius’ head rolled a rather long way until it came to the feet of Catula, a Christian. She honorably buried it along with his body.

Troparion (Tone 4)

Having learned goodness and maintaining continence in all things,

you were arrayed with a good conscience as befits a priest.

From the chosen Vessel you drew ineffable mysteries;

you kept the faith, and finished a course equal to His.

Bishop martyr Dionysius, entreat Christ God that our souls may be saved.

Kontakion (Tone 8)

As a disciple of the apostle caught up to the third heaven,

you spiritually entered the gate of heaven, Dionysius.

You were enriched with understanding of ineffable mysteries

and enlightened those who sat in the darkness of ignorance.

Therefore we cry to you: Rejoice, universal Father! 

 

Image source

Text source

Dear Father Joseph,

“O see ye not yon narrow road,
So thick beset wi’ thorns and briers?
That is the Path of Righteousness,
Though after it but few inquires.”`
— Thomas the Rhymer

I walked through the gate and by the corn field,
and into the wood. Around a corner the leaves
crunched underfoot. I looked, and saw the green
carpet of trees rolling over the hills
without end. Just the right turn, and I
would be in that wood. You could not walk
with me, so I carried you in my mind as I peered over the edge.
When we could walk together, (I remember)
you pointed with your cane at the Remington,
and made the guard cringe, a lively Vulcan of words and thought,
a man of peace who floated on the surface, but saw deep,
and conversed with the angel of the lake.
On the last day you will have both legs,
and I expect to see you in that wood when, by mercy,
finally I go that way, your cane not for leaning,
but a pointer to those leaves and that sun.

Fr Caldwell and Basil Caldwell November 2001

Few are the men who impact our life, looming larger than life.  In the days since burying my former Pastoral Theology professor, Charles Caldwell, I’ve pondered my small cadre.  Should the Lord tarry and my life continue, perhaps I’ll know others.  For now, I number them on one hand.

• Fr Caldwell, late for class but never for chapel, prayed the Akathist to the Theotokos each evening in his choir stall prior to Evening Prayer.

• Pale Gas.  I’ve done retreats, received a doctoral degree, and published a book — all thanks to Fr Caldwell’s introducing PALE GAS and the Two Trees to us back in PT3.

• Fr Caldwell’s Three Rules of Pastoral Ministry:  1) Listen 2) Listen 3) Listen.

• “Your job as a priest is not just to read the Scriptures, but to read the Living Human Documents before you.”