It's not Caturday, but it is Bathday!

Blood-sucking Parasites and Ubiquitous Pests

Mosquitoes are blood-sucking parasites that have been causing mankind grief since the fall in the Garden of Eden.

Most of the time, mosquitoes are annoying.  They buzz around and sometimes manage to bite.  They inflict a small amount of venom.  Their wounds itch and cause a rash.  And we get drawn into a tit-for-tat game with them, appealing to the market to rid us of the pests.

Occasionally, the destruction caused by these evil little beasts is more than a little itching and a bit of lost blood.  Sometimes the little buggers are fatal.  And when they are, they can be a veritable plague of biblical proportions.

Now here is an example of the just how ubiquitous the pests are.

While enjoying the tail end of a delightful collection of essays by Murray Rothbard ("The Irrepressible Rothbard"), I decided to sit on the porch swing outside.  Preparing to meet the parasites head on, I asked my wife for the ingenious little Off! Clip On device that repels the pests.  The gadget needed a refill.  She glanced at the instructions, and immediately after the rubric "Directions for use" we learned the following:

"It is a violation of Federal law to use this product in a manner inconsistent with its labeling.  Read and follow all directions and precautions on this product label."

Wow.

I know about the dire consequences of tearing of mattress tags, I remember the oft-told childhood warning about the protected federal status of praying mantises, I'm also aware of the dire consequences of a U.S. flag touching the ground, and was once told that using a gym treadmill without the little safety clip was a "violation of Federal law" - but this label thing was a new one for me.

How wonderful of the Senate and the House of Representatives, the Office of the President and the Supreme Court of the United States of America to take interest in little old me, protecting me from myself from potentially misusing "this product in a manner inconsistent with its labeling."  My gosh, what would we ever do without our dear Honorable Members and Commander-in-Chief to keep us from using "this product in a manner inconsistent with its labeling"?  Can you just imagine the chaos, the horrific consequences if the Federal Government had not stepped in?  I mean, the State of Louisiana and the City of Gretna would have been paralyzed, crippled from protecting me from "use... inconsistent with its labeling" - not to mention my own common sense.  What would we ever do without bureaucrats - especially Federal Officials - to save us from the illegal scourge of "inconsistent" use?

I might have wedged the package of refills under my door as a door stop.  I might have used the thin envelope as a book mark.  I might have taped the packing to the wall as a form of pop-art.  Thanks be to God for Washington, DC for protecting hapless citizens like myself who are obviously at the mercy of the evil S.C. Johnson Company.  Without the Federal Government, who knows what might have happened to me this evening!  One shudders just to think of it.

And of course it goes without saying that the Interstate Commerce Clause and the General Welfare Clause empowers Washington, DC to have jurisdiction over how I use my little packet of Off! refills on my own property.  Never mind that I am not selling it, not crossing state lines with it, nor am I a member of the armed forces.  Never mind the 9th and 10th amendments.  Never mind that there is nothing in the Constitution granting the federal government jurisdiction over mosquito repellent being used on a private citizen's front porch.

Come to think of it, maybe mosquitoes are not the only "blood-sucking parasites that have been causing mankind grief since the fall in the Garden of Eden."

Maybe it is not only the mosquitoes that can be described thus: "Most of the time, are annoying.  They buzz around and sometimes manage to bite.  They inflict a small amount of venom.  Their wounds itch and cause a rash.  And we get drawn into a tit-for-tat game with them, appealing to the market to rid us of the pests."

Maybe this applies to other institutions besides mosquitoes: "Occasionally, the destruction caused by these evil little beasts is more than a little itching and a bit of lost blood.  Sometimes the little buggers are fatal.  And when they are, they can be a veritable plague of biblical proportions."

Indeed, maybe mosquitoes are not the only ubiquitous pests.

Best of "I AM CANADIAN" (plus bonus, eh?)

How to Walk Your Human (super-cool!)

One of God's most amazing creatures...

...jumping spiders

My Siberian Adventure - Day 9 - July 5, 2011

Begin: Ephremkino
Drive to: Shira
Ride the train toward: Novosibirsk

I wake up about 8:00 am as Dan snores and Alexey continues snoozing.  I walk outside to take some pictures.  The little kitten is always near the people.  He is very tiny and orange - and fearless.  He slept on top of Dan last night.

I'm called to breakfast by Father Dmetri.  We have sweet rice, tea, and there are some other options - including цикорий for tea, a kind of berry powder used as an additive.  I ask Dmetri what it is, and he can only explain in his limited English that it makes the tea taste good.  In sounding out the Russian name, I realize that it is "chicory."  This is amusing because chicory is closely associated with New Orleans.  Our famous Cafe du Monde coffee is half coffee and half chicory.

There is also bread and a bee by-product - the stuff that the bees themselves feed on.  I believe it is royal jelly.  A local beekeeper harvested it.  It tastes like honey but has a more solid consistency.  There is also a traditional Khakassian sweet called halva - which is made from sunflower seeds.  I later learn that halva is enjoyed across Russia and the Mediterranean world and comes in different varieties.

Breakfast is informal, with people coming and going, seated outside in the cool air on a rustic bench under what appears to be a new wooden gazebo.

Father Pavel is going to take us for a hike.  So, I quickly change my clothing configuration and get ready to go.  He has a minivan to carry Dan, myself, Alexey, and an older guy named Victor.  As we prepare to go, our younger friends are in a  group snapping pictures. Ira takes the opportunity for some more English practice with us.

We head down the road, such as it is.  We wind down the streets of the village (Ефремкино - Ephremkino).  We pass a school.  In a few minutes, we are at the base of the mountains.  We walk down a small trail and pass recreations of the native teepee-like yurts.

Pavel is dressed impeccably in light blue fatigues, military cap, backpack, and a modern aluminum walking stick.  He is pleasant and sports a closely-cropped full beard.  Father Alexey serves again as our translator.  We start climbing the trail, and the view of the river, winding its way around the mountains, is spectacular.

We walk a little ways along the path, and Father Pavel tells us that we have a choice to make.  Either we go the way he takes the teenagers, or we go the way he takes the babushkas (old ladies).  We laugh and let Victor decide.  He is experienced with this climb, and opts for the more treacherous option.  Off the bat, we start climbing straight up the rocks on the side of the sheer cliff.  It is a long, long way down!  We continue up this steep include for quite a ways - no safety helmet, no ropes, no buckles and videos about how to use them, no explanation, and no liability release forms.  I have to feel around for a place to grab a rock with my hands, and I pull myself up one step at a time - trying to keep up with the fleet-footed Pavel.  Sometimes, the rocks give way under my feet.  Did I mention that it is a long way down?  I'm wearing black dress shoes - but being rubber-soled, they actually perform well.

We make it to a little rock cavern where the next step was to climb the narrow channel of rock to emerge through the small hole at the top.  The local legend describes this as a kind of rebirth.  It was not an easy climb, but we all make it just fine.  There are caves that have ancient cave drawings on the walls.  They are still making archaeological discoveries here.

We continue walking, climbing, chatting, snapping pictures, and we make a good pace.  There is a long path along the side of the mountain that winds up and down with occasional detours to rock outposts to see the views.  I believe this is the Shaman's Trail that Father Dan had spoke of earlier.  Father Alexey lugs his Nikon D30 everywhere, and stands like a mountain goat on narrow piles of rocks on the precarious edge of the cliffs as he snaps away on the camera.  It is unnerving.

Father Pavel explains many interesting events of local history that happened here, including a cave blown up by the Bolsheviks as they sought to capture a local tribal leader, a Cossack, who opposed them.  He had become a kind of folk hero and guerrilla leader.  The Bolsheviks ended up killing him with mortar fire.

Many trees were marked by ribbons - an old Pagan (Shamanistic) Khakassian custom.  There are large stones that Pagans claim represent the organs of the body, and some try to use these stones to cure their ailments.  Pavel also shows us the remains of an ancient copper mine - and pieces of ore are lying all around.



We turn around and retrace most of the way back - although we don't climb down the sheer cliff face.  Fathers Alexey and Dmetri go off on their own for more hiking, while Dan, Victor, Pavel, and I head back.  We walk past the yurts and are able to visit them briefly, even to go inside.  They are wooden structures and are lined with wool.  There is a hole in the top to accommodate a fire.  These yurts are furnished with tables and chairs.  We make our way back to Pavel's minivan, and drive back to the camp.

There, I was able to work on my sermon while Dan headed to the main gazebo to read.

I was offered lunch by Victor and his daughter Masha (Maria) - who works at the camp with Father Pavel.  They made some пельмени (pelmeni) - small dumplings that are boiled.  I put butter on mine.  Victor used ketchup.  I was also offered milk - which may have been fresh milk from the cattle outside.  I was also offered hot water and green tea to add to the milk - which was refreshing.  There is also bread and halva on the table.

I spent time resting and looking over my sermon.  Lacking Internet, I borrowed Dan's cellphone and sent Grace a text message.

Dan and I took a walk to the village.  We stopped at a small "magazin" (store) called "Magazin Elena."  I bought us a couple of ice cream bars at 25 rubles each (just under a dollar apiece).  The lady clerk (Elena?) tallied up our total on an abacus.  There is a wandering herd of cattle in no particular hurry also out for a stroll.

Back at the camp, I converse with Nikita, who is preparing to start college and is still trying to figure out what to study.  His English is good.  I then took another nap, and was joined by the kitten, who was quite content to snuggle up under the blanket.

For dinner, we are offered a choice of potatoes or a summer cold soup, окрошка (okroshka), which is made from a drink that is basically fermented bread: квас (kvas).  The mosquitoes are starting to get bad.

After a little more rest, we are ready to go.  Father Pavel has already left, and Masha is driving us to the train station in Shira.  He car is not in good shape.  The windshield is badly cracked, the back is dented, the back passenger window was broken and replaced with plastic.  It turns out that she had been in a wreck a week ago.  He car flipped and she suffered a banged up arm.  Other than some scrapes, she is fine.

Her father Victor is riding along with us.

We arrive in time to wait for the train.  It will be about a ten hour trip.  Fortunately, the ride begins at about 11:00 pm - which means we can sleep during the ride.  I get one of the top bunks tonight.

Here is a link to all of my pictures from Day Nine.

My Siberian Adventure - Day 7 - July 3, 2011

Begin: Novokuznetsk
On the Train toward: Abakan

We have breakfast again at the hotel: eggs, yogurt, tea, and orange juice. We checked out of the hotel, and head over to Father Dmetri’s parish for Sunday Mass. The congregation is called St. James. Father Dmetri renovated the flay himself, and it contains a beautiful small sanctuary. Demetri is a good celebrant, very much in command.

Today is the feast of St. Thomas the Apostle, and the liturgical color is red. Dan is the preacher, and Father Alexey is his translator.

The service is dignified, but not what we would call “high church.” The altar is adorned with two beeswax candles. The pastors of the SELC do not chant, but the congregations sing their responses. The pastors do not genuflect, but they do elevate the elements as part of the consecration. The liturgy is printed in a bulletin – including the hymns. The SELC has no hymnal. This parish has an organist who plays a small keyboard on a stand. The room is crowded and the congregation sings very well. Most of the women have scarves on their heads.

There are three little girls who take communion – much sooner than in the LCMS.I sit next to Evgeny Dmetriev, whose journey to Lutheran Christianity and role in the establishment of this congregation can be found here.

After the service, we pose for a picture. Father Alexey is the stereotypical photographer. He is armed with his full-sized Nikon digital SLR with flash unit. After Alexey snaps a couple pictures, Father Andrei takes the camera and puts Father Alexey into the picture. He implores us to smile by explaining that we should say as the Americans do: “cheese.”

There then follows a brief order of anointing and laying hands on the sick.

We then head back to the kitchen for tea, coffee, cake, small sandwiches of salmon, salmon caviar, cucumbers, and salad greens. There are also cookies and candies. People are very friendly, though we struggle with the language barrier. I take pictures and some video. Evgeny wants to point out his niece to me. He doesn’t know the word, so he calls up Google Translate on his phone and shows me the word. The other two little girls are his daughters. His niece and daughters are studying English at school, and shyly speak with me a bit.

He tells the story of his daughters’ baptisms, but can’t come up with the English words, and is frustrated. He asks the church organist for help. She is maybe 30 years old, and I understand that she recently joined the congregation through Holy Baptism. She speaks enough English to relate the story.

The girls were baptized by a missionary – who it turns out was sent by the LCMS. However, he left, and the people had no church. This was the situation for a couple years until they contacted Bishop Vsevolod in Novosibirsk and asked if a SELC congregation could be established in Novokuznetsk.

The people are very happy with Father Dmetri.

The members of the congregation are gregarious and span all ages. The ladies implore us to eat and set more food in front of us than we could possibly eat. They also fuss at their husbands, who seem to be able to fuss right back at them. The people greet us again, and we all say our goodbyes.

Alexey, Dmetri, Dan, and I join Andrei in his small Toyota for a drive to see the sights. We are rather cozy in the back seat – three guys. There are very few minivans, SUVs, and trucks here. Gas is expensive and so most vehicles are small.

First, we go to the Novokuznetsk Aluminum Smelter run by Russian Aluminum – where the owner has recently erected memorials to Peter the Great and Stalin – the latter of whom still has some cultic devotion in Novokuznetsk – which used to be named for Stalin.

Smokestacks bellow and the smell of chemicals lingers in the air. Novokuznetsk is the third most polluted city in Russia. Father Alexey translates the Stalin monument, noting the irony and hypocrisy in the boasts on the bronze slab.

We get back into the car and exchange stories of political correctness. Alexey had written a thesis for college admission at the time of the end of the USSR. He wrote it about the novel 1984 – which had only recently become legal to read in Russia.

I told him about my Indian friend Prayag being fired from his job, and even getting a police escort (!) for cracking a private joke to me about the number of Indians on the job. This happened in the People’s Republic of New Jersey. I also told them about the marginalization of American historical figures and about the situation of political correctness in Canada.

Father Alexey related amusing accounts from his own childhood.

We drove to the Novokuznetsk Fort, and it was now raining heavily. Of course, my rain poncho is back at the church flat, and I did not bring my leather jacket for this trip (it is still in Novosibirsk. I’m a mess. I have things strewn all over the world.  We visit the museum - which is extremely modern and new.  There is not yet any English on any of the exhibits.  A bubbly college student who works at the Fort is eager to speak English with us, and does a very good job even though it is a second language for her.  There is even a non-human patron at the museum.

We went back to the church for a meal of leftovers and good conversation, including a good natured debate about whether or not a piece of bread with meat and cheese constitutes a sandwich. Father Demetri insisted that this was not a sandwich, but a butterbrot (a word borrowed from German that means literally “butter bread”). I think I synthesized the two opposing sides of the argument by folding up the piece of bread, thus enveloping the contents with bread on top and bottom.  Blessed are the peacemakers, and all that.

I took a nap for about an hour. The tea that I have been drinking and the utter lack of soft drinks has left me caffeine-deprived. I’m also still adjusting to the 12-hour time difference.

We gather our bags and Father Andrei drives us to the train station. It is large and busy. We wait inside under the board announcing the trains. Unlike the planes (which run according to local time), all the trains in Russia run on Moscow time – initially giving Dan and me a little confusion.

Father Dan points out a sign in Russian and asks me to read it. I sound out the Cyrillic letters and it says “service center.” They had to borrow a word from English – which suggests that the term was not used during Soviet times – a reflection on the state of customer service. Things are changing in the 20 years since the fall of Communism.

Finally, we need to board. We hurry down a light of stairs, go through doors, exit the building in the rain, climb a large flight of stairs (with steps covered in pools of splashing water), and then walk for about another quarter mile.

At last, the four of us – Dmetri, Alexey, Dan, and myself – board the train to Abakan. Boarding is no problem, and we are directed to a small berth with two bunks above and two below for the four of us.  We drink tea in the traditional railroad mugs - which are glasses that slip into an elegant pewter holder.

We're on a ten-hour trip, which is set to arrive at 6:40 am local time (in Abakan) which is 7:40 Novosibirsk time.

We have excellent conversation in our second-class room - private with bunks and a little table.  The seats open for storage, with additional storage over the room door.  It's nearly 1:00 am and the conversation is still going strong.  It is a real joy to be able to pass the time with brothers in the office of the holy ministry!  Dan is finally ready for bed.  He shows me where the bathroom is.  He reminded me of the scene in Transsiberian where they open the door to find that there were no more cars.

The ride is similar to Amtrak, as is the feel of the cabin.  Exhausted, I go to bed myself as the train rumbles on toward Khakassia.

Here are all of my pictures from Day Seven.

Today, we are tourists!

One doesn't have to go halfway round the world to be a турист.

My friend Br. Latif Gaba introduced me to the word flâneur - which comes from the French verb flâner ("to stroll, saunter, lounge about") - a delightfully countercultural idea rooted in the fact that life should not consist merely of running from one exhausting errand to another, that one should slow down, enjoy oneself, and take in the sights - even in one's own home town.

Friday is my TDO (Theoretical Day Off) - and so Mrs. H. and I made good on a pledge to take Lionboy to one of his favorite hangouts (upon my return from Russia): The Audubon Insectarium.  We made it an outing, and didn't even use the car.  To embrace one's inner tourist (as well as deal with the heat and humidity of the Crescent City), a Hawaiian shirt is just the thing.  One should also sport headgear, be photographically equipped, and carry a backpack.

A backpack?

Indeed.  When you are a tourist, you need your stuff.  What kind of stuff?  Today, I carried a couple portable umbrellas, sunscreen, a hooded sweatshirt (for the brutally cold air conditioning), my Nook (for those times when one is simply compelled to read), and French and Russian dictionaries and phrasebooks (you just never know...).  Cargo pants are also a must - to carry one's still and video cameras, cell phone, keys, reading glasses, sunglasses, wallet, and PDA.  In visiting the Insectarium - which is a federally-owned building - one must leave behind one's Swiss Army Knife so as not to make people think you are planning on overthrowing the United States government with a toothpick or nail-file (who knew it was so easy?).  Besides, we wouldn't want to profile our guests and deny museum admission to Swiss soldiers with their suspiciously clean fingernails and unAmerican cheese with holes.  Those Swiss knives also include corkscrews.  And connect the dots with me, dear reader: wine bottles need corkscrews to open them, wine is drunk by French people, and French fries are now freedom flies - just so that we all know who to be afraid of, mais oui?

We strolled the four blocks to the ferry station and enjoyed the 15-minute ride across the Mississippi River to Canal Street in New Orleans.  From there, we ambled a few blocks up Canal to the Insectarium - which is actually inside the old U.S. Treasury building - which housed POWs during the War Between the States.  Beast Butler had an office there, and so it is fitting that the building now has displays of roaches, larvae, and bottom-feeders of all kinds.  But I digress...

Anyway, we had a lovely time at the Insectarium - which includes a small theater, an indoor Japanese butterfly garden, and very interesting and exotic displays of living and dead insects and arachnids.  There is a "cave" that children especially enjoy that simulates what it would be like to be an insect living underground - complete with a trapdoor spider that lunges out at you.  There is a huge ant colony, centipedes, millipedes, praying mantises, and a hatchery for newly-minted butterflies.  There are displays of local creatures - such as our doughty cockroaches and ubiquitous lovebugs.

We watched a huge yellow and black garden spider (argiope) devour a fly, and Miss Grace even got help identifying a species of larva that until today has proven a mystery.  A staff member held a tarantula for everyone to enjoy.  The room with mounted butterflies and beetles is a dazzling tour of the whole spectrum of color - and several displays even concede that there is "divine design" to the way insects are put together.  I suppose they only mean it figuratively, but whether intended or not, the truth is hard to deny when confronted with the intricacies of insects' (and other critters') existence and design.

We chose not to eat in the Insectarium's diner (which includes dishes made with insects), and headed off to the Arby's on Canal and Decatur.  Of course, it's not exactly New Orleans fare, but it is fast and close, and we had a rendezvous with the ferry.  We went upstairs where the view of Canal Street is magnificent.

Just as we left the museum as we were headed to Arby's, by pure chance, we met our very dear friend, Dr. Z.  Had we been five seconds earlier or later, we would have missed him striding by.  We always feel better after speaking with him.  He is one of the most delightful people we have ever met, and is literally a Godsend to us.  As soon as we left this providential meeting, we were strolling behind a couple with some scripture on their tee-shirts.  Deo gratias.

Taking us for (non-local) tourists, some visitors at the ferry station asked us what they could find on the other end of the ferry ride to Gretna.  We had the opportunity to direct them to some nice local restaurants. We returned home the same way we came, seeing the rain clouds moving in.  The ferry ride was windy and exhilarating.

So, our tour is over - but we have lots of pictures to serve as souvenirs of our excursion.  And you can scroll down to the end of this post for full embedded video goodness.

An Interview with Leo the Hero

Another harrowing exploit of explorer and animal rescuer, Leonidas Beane in his own words in an exclusive Father Hollywood interview on the heels of his expedition to save Vicar.

Owl Defense

This is what "awesome" looks like!

If we could only figure out how to embed smell and taste into a blog! Until we get that technology, you'll just have to take my word on this one.

Here are some newly uploaded pictures:

• At home in Gretna, March 2010
• Ron and Leo Build a New Porch
• A Big South Louisiana Visitor
• The Salem Lutheran 2010 Fun n Run
• Last Saturday's Book of Concord Class

An Apologetic Orange Epiphany

This is our final week of Christmas break, and I have been busy attending this apologetics conference called Confronting the Culture, at the New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary under the auspices of the Institute for Christian Apologetics.

Both the format and the line-up of speakers has been outstanding. And I want to thank NOBTS and ICA director and NOBTS Philosophy professor Rev. Dr. Robert Stewart for their hospitality and for putting together such an opportunity for Christians to learn the nuts and bolts of defending the Christian faith against the multifaceted attack coming from the evil one. The conference is not expensive, and included in the registration cost, each attendee receives an MP3 CD of all of the talks by all of the speakers (11 plenary sessions and 69 breakout sessions of an hour-and-a-half each!). Since it is impossible to attend every session, having the notes and recordings of all the lectures is a great use of technology.

I really had hoped to have been able to attend my own Alma Mater's theological symposia this year (my last visit to Fort Wayne was five years ago), but it simply proved too expensive. So, it was fortuitous to have the opportunity to attend this week-long intensive Apologetics event, and it has been a great blessing in thinking about the faith and delving into the Scriptures - and I still have two more days left!

Being on campus does remind me of my time at the sem (which I really loved and treasured). One thing that was not a completely pleasant flashback is walking around in the cold. Our weather is breaking records because of the plummeting mercury. We were below freezing today (which is rather atypical for us), and in a couple days, we are looking at a low of something like 18 degrees. I had to dig out a parka out of the shed. It has kept me sane the past couple days (I really don't like being cold).

With a worse cold front on the way, Mrs. H. and I decided to harvest all of our citrus this morning - comprising of a Meyer lemon, a Louisiana Sweet orange, and a Navel orange tree. It was a fun job, but took so much time that I ended up missing the sessions at NOBTS for today (I was already going to miss the evening sessions on account of Epiphany Day service and Bible class). It was also a lot of work climbing ladders and using a tree cutter on a pole to retrieve the high fruits - tossing them down into Mrs. Hollywood and her awaiting basket. It became quite an operation, and we had no idea how much was out there! Our kitchen smells like orange peels. We have been eating oranges all day today, and Mrs. H. is squeezing lemon juice and freezing it into cubes.

Man, it is good! But it sure was a long day today. We also winterized a temporary shelter for our local colony of cats. It is not a good time to be an outdoor feline, that's for sure.

We had guests for Epiphany Mass and Bible class this evening - a couple dozen college students, mainly from Central Michigan University. They are here for a week-long mission trip to help in the ongoing post-Katrina restoration. It was really a great joy to have them visit us for the Divine Service! They were led by my dear friend, classmate, and colleague The Rev. Jon Bakker, who serves Zion Lutheran Church, Mt. Pleasant, MI and Christ the King Lutheran Chapel at CMU, and Shaina Mitchell, who serves as a deaconess at Grace Lutheran Church in Muncie, IN. John Zimmerman, a brother of another classmate and son of a pastor who worked at the sem while I was a student was also in the group.

Most of the students in the group were Lutheran, and sang the service with gusto. My pal Joe Taylor (a Lutheran religion teacher) was also present for the service.

And, as a very special treat, trombonist Pastor Bakker, along with a long-time friend of the congregation (a member of a sister congregation), Donna, played trombones for our service under the able command of Shelly, our organist. It was beyond delightful! I got to hear the trombone (or as Donna calls it, "the voice of God") and organ in my seminary days. Pastor Bakker also showed up at my ordination with his trombone, and it was a great ordination present. So, it was glorious to hear, and served to glorify our Blessed Lord. Thanks, Jon, Donna, and Shelly!

And thanks to all of our friends - who represented three countries: the U.S., Canada, and Nigeria - as well as the states of Michigan, Idaho, Indiana, Illinois, and Iowa - who traveled such a long way to spend their Christmas break in hard physical labor for the sake of New Orleanians in need. We are grateful, and hope they can all come back again when it is warmer. We did pass around some fresh oranges - though there may have been a lemon or two in the basket. So, if you are one of our guests, and your "orange" tasted like a lemon, that's because it was a lemon. Meyer lemons are huge, and can easily be confused with oranges. So, you know the expression: "When life gives you lemons... (fill in a punch line about your least favorite auto company here).

So, after a rewarding day of physical labor and spiritual service, I will flip back into student mode and be returning to my intensive series of lectures all day tomorrow.

In a few weeks, NOBTS's annual Greer-Heard Point Counterpoint series will include noted skeptic and Jesus Seminar member John Dominic Crossan debating against Christian apologist Ben Witherington III - as well as other speakers. The cost for the conference for the general public is $20. These debates and discussions are recorded (audio and video) and will be available for purchase soon after the conference. This is a Friday and Saturday event, and I highly recommend it to theologically-interested clergy or laity in the NOLA area.

From the Greer-Heard website:

Previous forums have featured discussions between N. T. Wright and John Dominic Crossan on The Resurrection of Jesus (2005), William Dembski and Michael Ruse on Intelligent Design (2006), Alister McGrath and Daniel Dennett on The Future of Atheism (2007), Bart Ehrman and Daniel Wallace on The Textual Reliability of the New Testament (2008), and Paul Knitter and Harold Netland on Pluralism (2009). Books based on the first three conferences and edited by Robert B. Stewart are available for purchase from Fortress Press. The Textual Reliability of the New Testament and Pluralism are also forthcoming with Fortress.

The discipline of Christian Apologetics doesn't include a lot of Lutherans. However, I was pleasantly surprised to learn what a giant The Rev. Dr. John Warwick Montgomery (LCMS pastor and professor) is in his ongoing legacy as an apologist. He is the director of the International Academy of Apologetics, Evangelism, and Human Rights in Strasbourg, France. He virtually pioneered the very idea of debating against skeptics and those who attack the faith - such as the format of the Greer-Heard forum above).

At the conference, I ran across the 2008 book: Tough-Minded Christianity, a hefty 768 page tribute of essays (I suppose what we Lutherans would call a Festschrift) in honor of Dr. Montgomery. It is authored by some 44 contributors across the Christian landscape - including some very heavy-hitters in modern Apologetics. In the forward, Paige Patterson, former president of the Southern Baptist Convention, credits Montgomery for saving the SBC from the ravages of Biblical liberalism. LCMS pastor and professor Rev. Dr. Alvin Schmidt has a contribution called "Christianity Needs More Lutheran Apologetes." I read the essay, and I agree with Dr. Schmidt's premise.

Obviously, we Lutherans have some pretty basic theological differences with our Baptist brethren. But when it comes to defending the biblical account of creation, the integrity of the testimony of Holy Scripture, the two natures of Christ, the Holy Trinity, the real historic Jesus, the veracity of the miracles (including the virgin birth and th resurrection), and taking on the outrageous claims of the New Atheists, Neo-Gnostics, cultists, postmodernists, and celebrity attackers of the faith, we can stand shoulder to shoulder with our Baptist brothers and sisters in Christ, learn from them, and join with them in the battle for the hearts and minds of those whose faith has been wounded by these attacks.

I also picked up a book co-authored by two of the speakers at this year's conference, Dr. Michael Licona and Dr. Gary Habermas, entitled A Case for the Resurrection of Jesus. It is endorsed by not only Dr. Montgomery, but also by LCMS pastor and scholar Rev. Dr. Paul Meier as well. I was very impressed not only with the intellectual acumen of Habermas and Licona, but also by their ability to communicate and do so in a pastoral way. I enjoyed speaking with both of them, and I look forward to reading their book - hopefully making use of it in giving a defense for the hope that is within us.

Mrs. H. communicates with some strange specimen on Pandora...

Happy New Year!

Yes, this is one of those boring posts about how our day is going for the benefit of friends and family.

We're having a nice eclectic New Year's Eve.

• I worked on some French through LiveMocha.
• We went to the zoo with the Rev. Philip Miller (Pastor of Christ Lutheran, Chalmette, LA), his wife Monique, and their children: Grace, Isaiah, Silas, Nathaniel, Sarah Rose, and one yet to be born!
• We bought a gift for a wildebeest (now that is something I have never done before).
• We had dinner at IHOP and called to mind the old days of New Year's Eves past - especially in Ottawa.
• We went home and watched fireworks from the front porch.
• We looked at the pictures we took today.
• We are half-watching the festivities on TV, which is flipping between the local celebrations (instead of a ball dropping at Times Square, we have a Fleur-de-lis at Jax Brewery) and the national stuff. Whoever invented the "mute" button should get a medal.
  
• If I make it to midnight, I think I'll sip a little B&B. I bought the bottle in 2006, and I think it works like the seals on the dishwasher if you don't use it every few months. I think I should be able to have this bottle done some time in 2014. It's good to have goals. If you haven't had B&B, it really is remarkable. It is only a slight exaggeration to say that you can take a sip, enjoy it, and not even swallow - and it will evaporate in your mouth.

Happy New Year to all of our family, friends, colleagues, parishioners, neighbors, and anyone else who may be reading this. A blessed 2010 to all.

Tannenbaum 2.0

Well, here is the Hollywood Christmas tree, round two.

Version 1.0 was an epic fail when it flunked the Rex Test. In the immortal words of the late Warren Zevon, Rex is our "Excitable Boy." The feline one, that is. Leo is our human excitable boy. Rex is Leo's "little brother."

Anyway, Rex decided to climb up the tree, or something. We don't know. All we heard was a big crash. We found the tree on its side, antique bulbs shattered, as well as Mrs. H.'s three favorite ornaments (two of which can be glued, the third is a maybe). The base was ruined. Rex apparently lost bladder control in the mayhem, which rendered the decorative tree skirt in a less-than-desirable estate.

Sigh.

So, after a base repair job involving a hammer, tape, and a t-shirt (now that's my kind of home improvement project!), re-inserted limbs, and a trip to Walgreen's to buy some new shatterproof (read: Rex-proof) ornaments - our Arbre de Noel, part deux, is up and running. The tree skirt (not yet installed) has been cleaned and is ready to roll - hopefully before Santa shows up to consume a plate of red beans and rice and an Abita.

Meanwhile, the door to the parlor is now closed. Rex will have to limit his destructive activities to one of the other five rooms in the Hollywood Rectory. But at least our fix didn't look like this:

All Creatures of our God and King

I just discovered that LSB got rid of the only hymn written by St. Francis of Assisi (a saint recognized as a "holy father" in the Book of Concord) that was included our last hymnal (LW 436: All Creatures of our God and King).

Goodness.

The LCMS doesn't even join the rest of Western Christendom in honoring the October 4 feast day of this pious deacon and evangelical voice for reform and integrity in the Church. I guess that's the price dear Brother Francis pays for not being German, and the price we pay for having room in the hymnal for the kind of hymn that mentions test-tubes and the dreadful Maranatha songs that made the cut instead.

Here is a link to the original hymn, Canticle of the Sun, known in Latin as Laudes Creaturarum, which is actually one of the oldest works of literature to be written in the Italian language.

Oh well, it's nothing that the HP printer and a little Elmer's glue can't fix. In fact, here are the propers for the Feast of St. Francis for observant Lutherans when the Feast of St. Francis comes around next year.

Now I'm going to go off and preach a sermon to my cats...

Leo the Yellow Jumping Spider on WVUE-8

... as in 8 legs and 8 eyes.

Note: Click on the first little picture ("Halloween in NOLA"), the one with the pic of the guy's face made up like the Joker, and you'll get the little story about the Audubon Insectarium.

"It just takes some time... all shall be well"

At the risk of making everyone except Deacon Latif Gaba think I have lost my mind, this joyful and encouraging 2002 alternative pop song "The Middle" by Jimmy Eat World reminds me of a famous quote from St. Julian of Norwich (1342-1416):

All shall be well and all shall be well and all manner of things shall be well.

One of my parishioners reminds me greatly of St. Julian, praying in her tiny "anchorage" positioning her breviary around the cat on her lap.


As a postscript: a string quartet version of "The Middle" is available here.

Instruments of Peace

October 4, the feast of St. Francis of Assisi (1181-1226), has gone by largely unnoticed by American Lutherans yet another year. Unfortunately, in spite of the fact that our Lutheran confessions explicitly recognize Francis as a "saint" (Ap 24:7), "holy man" (Ap 27:21) and "holy father" (Ap 4:211), our hymnals, service books, and prayer treasuries today largely ignore him.

Francis was a thorn in the side of the papacy and of the corrupt medieval church bureaucracy. In fact, some members of the religious order founded by Francis were the first to refer to the medieval papacy as "antichrist" - two centuries before Martin Luther began sparring with the Bishop of Rome. To this day, men and women in the Franciscan order - both within and without the Roman Catholic Church - are beggars for Christ, are interested in peace and serving the poor, and make it a priority to show compassion for all of God's creatures.

Artwork of St. Francis often depicts him surrounded by animals.

So, in memory of the gentle preaching of Deacon Francis, as a witness to his implementation of our Lord's call to compassion, as a tribute to the affection and respect shown to this "holy father" by our Lutheran confessions and the entire western church, here is something you can do on a daily basis as a small act of compassion to the creatures over which we have been given dominion:

You can visit The Animal Rescue Site every day and click on the purple button that says "click here to give, it's free." With each such click, the sponsors donate money. The organization donates 100% of ad revenues to their charitable work to feed animals in need. These are domesticated creatures that serve mankind, and they are our responsibility, we having been given dominion over them, and we having removed them from the wild. Clicking on the button costs nothing, and yet each click donates .6 of a bowl of food for animal shelters to feed these creatures pending their adoptions. You can even click on "get a daily reminder to click" and you'll get an automated e-mail every day with a link to click the button. It takes five seconds, and costs nothing.

Animals are an integral part of the Lord's creation. And before the Fall, man and animals had a peaceful, harmonious, non-predatory relationship. The gift and the blessing of domestic animals is a vestige, a little window looking back, a tiny glimpse of happier times in the garden of Eden, as well as a peek into eternity yet to come in which this pacific bestial harmony will be restored.

Until that time, we can only do what we can in this fallen world to alleviate suffering and strive to create an ethos of mercy for all of the Lord's creatures, as we pray in the words of the prayer attributed to Francis: "Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace."

When it comes to eating catfood...

...let us call to mind that in Latin, "possum" means "I can!"

Possum Friends

The Saint Francis Rescue Mission (i.e. the Hollywood residence) has some new friends: a family of possums - a mother and her four (grown) children.

I apologize for the poor quality of the pictures, but the possums (possumi?) only come out at dusk, and I'm shooting through the window with no flash. Under the circs, this is the best I can do. (Brother Latif, I know you are laughing now at the obvious pun on the Latin word "possum" - we students of Latin are known for such knee-slapping jocularity).

Possums (which in the Blue States, as opposed to the Gray states, are known as opossums), are the only marsupials native to America. They are more intelligent than dogs, and have thumbs on their hind feet. They are very clean, and perform a valuable non-chemical pest control service - all for free.

We have a colony of about five "feral" cats (they're all tame now) that Mrs. H. feeds. The didelphimorphic visitors to Saint Francis have formed fast friendships with the felines, and sometimes can even be seen hanging out nose to nose. The possums are more skittish than the cats, but there are times where they don't mind the presence of humans at all.

Mother possum was limping and bleeding a couple weeks back, but she seems to have made a full recovery.

All things bright and beautiful,
All creatures great and small,
All things wise and wonderful:
The Lord God made them all.