Jamie Parsley's Blog, page 75

The Requiem Euchairst for Rick Holbrook

1 Epiphany

Baptism of Our Lord

January 11, 2015

2 Christmas

January 4, 2015


+ I know. I’ve been doing this a lot lately. But be patient. Bear with me.  We’re going back in time one again. It’s not that long of a trip, though. We’re only going back twenty years.
We’re going back to Sunday, January 8, 1995. Most of us can remember 1995. It doesn’t seem all that long ago.
One of the top movies were Dumb and Dumber,  I remember the music I was listening to at that time included a lot of R.E.M and Weezer, and Beck and the Red Hot Chili Peppers. MTV still played music videos.
But on that Sunday, I had a very important thing happen to me. On that Sunday, I attended my first Episcopal church service. I was 25 years year old. My second book of poems, The Loneliness of Blizzards, was about to published. But certainly, I was searching for…something.
Well, on that Sunday, I found it. And I found it. Right here. At St. Stephen’s. The first Episcopal church service I ever attended was right here at St. Stephen’s.
On that very cold, January morning, I remember where I parked.  I parked on the west street. Back then, we did not have the narthex and entry way we have now.  Back then, there was a door on the west side of the church which was the main entrance.
I was a little chicken about attending new churches so I asked my mother to attend with me. And we got here early. There was no body here except for one person. James was here that morning.
And I remembered very clearly that, after years of searching, years of trying out many other things, I had finally found my spiritual home in the Episcopal Church. I loved the Eucharist. I loved that it was a woman priest who was celebrating—Sandi Holmberg was the Rector at that time.  I loved the Book of Common Prayer.  I loved the whole thing. And I was hooked.
The weirdest thing of course is that the 25 year old Jamie who came to this church that morning in 1995 would never, ever, in a million years, believe that he would one day be the Priest here at St. Stephen’s.  And probably nobody else who encountered that grungy 25 year old in his plaid flannel that morning would’ve thought so either.  But here it is, and here I am, and here we all are.
It has been a long and incredible journey since that morning in 1995. Not an easy journey by any sense of the word. I think it’s appropriate, as I ponder my own weird journey, that we encounter another strange journey.
In our Gospel reading this morning, there is a journey to the holy Family.  Certainly, the story of the magi, searching for God in this child, is a lot more dramatic than mine—more dramatic than anything that could happen to any of us. Things like that don’t happen in our lives.  Most of us would not give up everything to follow a star in the sky.  Most of us could not be who Joseph is this morning.  Already he has to deal with his fiancée becoming pregnant, dreams of divine beings who tell him what to do, a child (which is not his) being born under incredible circumstances.
And now, this.  Kings bowing down to tis child.  Obviously, the child is special.  Imagine how exotic and strange this must’ve seemed to a man like Joseph who lived his entire lives in Palestine.
But the story means nothing to us if we don’t make it our own, to some extent.  It becomes real for us when we realize that we too are the Magi to some extent.  They did what they did, they went where they blindly, to some extent.  They went into their future together uncertain of what was going to happen.
But somehow, in the midst of this blindness, in the midst of this uncertainty, they were being sustained.  They knew, somehow, that it would all work out.  They knew beyond a doubt that something awaited them at the end of their journey.  That is what we can take away with us from this story.
Certainly, as we head into the great unknown of this new year of 2015, we find ourselves feeling somewhat like the Magi no doubt did as they made their way toward that star.  I can tell you, back in 1995, I too felt I was heading into my very uncertain future.  But I too was following a star back then.  I didn’t know why or how I was going to do it. But I just knew that I had to make that journey.  But we know that as we go forward, like the Magi, we are led by God.
God is calling us forward, calling us into our future, calling us to venture into the unknown.  We are also being called to do so with absolute trust in God’s mercy. In this story, we find examples abounding.
Joseph is an example to us of that wholehearted trust in God’s mercy.  He has heeded the voice of the angel and does what was commanded of him, no matter how frightening and uncertain these moves must have been.  He has done what God lead him to do and by doing so he saves this child—this child he knows isn’t his, this child who has come to him in such mysterious and amazing circumstances.
Mary too is a wonderful example.  She seems, at first glance, to be kind of a peripheral character in the story.  No more poetry is coming from her mouth as it did when she sang the Magnificat to God when the angel announced to her that she would be bearing this child Jesus.  There are no words at all from her either in this story.  But what we do find is that she is living out, by her very life, the “yes” she made to that angel when it was announced to her that she would bear this Child that she now holds close to her.
Mary is an example to us that, occasionally, when forces beyond our understanding begin to work, all we must do at times is simply and quietly heed God’s command.  There are times for poetry and there are times when poetry just isn’t needed.  When the Child was formed in her womb, how could she not sing out with beautiful poetry?  Now, with kings and wise men and angels bowing at the feet of her child, she simply sits in quietness and awe—holding Jesus close to her.
We too should do the same as we enter into this long winter season.  There will be more bitter cold, more snow, more icy streets and roads before us before the thaw comes to us.  In our own lives, in this time in which everything seems to uncertain and up-in-the-air, we can go forward either in fear or in quiet confidence, like Mary.  We can do so, holding the God who comes to us in Jesus close to us, against our beating, anxious hearts.
Like her, we have choices. We can go into that future, kicking and screaming, our heels dug in. Or we can go quietly and with dignity, holding our greatest hope and joy to us as we are led forward  by a star that might, at times, seem vague.
Back in 1995, I no idea what the future would hold for me.  I didn’t know then that in ten years I would be a priest, that in 20 years I would be the priest of this congregation.  But I knew there was star shining ahead for me.  And here I am.
The same is true of all of us.  The future lies ahead of us.  We know that is not an easy future.  It is not a future without pain and hardships and much more work to do, more miles to cover.  There are long days and equally long nights lying before us.  But that same future contains, also, joy and fulfillment and loved ones.  That future contains laughter and moments of exquisite beauty.  That future contains love, in whatever ways it may come to us.  That future that contains the rest of this long, cold winter, also contains the spring thaw and a glorious summer.
So, like the Magi, let us get up and follow that star, wherever it may lead, even into an uncertain future.  Like Joseph, let us heed the calling to also go wherever God leads.  Like Mary, let us be led into that future with quiet dignity.  Let us go, with that star shining brightly ahead of us.  With God leading us, the future is more glorious than we, in this cold, snowy moment, can even begin to understand or appreciate.

I Christmas

December 28, 2014

John 1.1-18

+ As you have heard me confess many times from this pulpit; I am a church nerd. But, I think I need to be more specific with the self-description.  I am really, in all actuality, a liturgy nerd. Now, saying that I can say that I am no liturgical scholar. For me, I am more experiential in my love of liturgy.
No one has to guess what I believe, because I believe what I pray. You want to know what I believe? Look at the Book of Common prayer. Look at the Eucharist in it, look at the Daily Office in it—and there’s what I believe.  Liturgy is the basis for my personal theology, my spiritual life and my outlook on life.  So, I take it seriously, but maybe not intellectually so.  I am more interested in doing liturgy than studying liturgy at times (though I do like studying liturgy at times as well).
One of the most exciting liturgical experiences I ever had happened a few years ago. I was in Los Angeles attending a meeting. One of my dear friends and seminary classmates invited me to his church in Orange County for Sunday morning mass.  My friend is a Deacon in the Anglican Catholic Church, which is a church that is actual separate from the Anglican Communion, for various reasons. The Mass at the church he served was fascinating to me.  The liturgy was based on the 1928 Book of Common Prayer and , I believe, the Anglican Missal, which was essentially an Anglican version of the pre-Vatican II Roman Catholic Mass. I was certainly impressed because I had never experienced that particular Mass before.
And it was lovely.  I was blown away by the beauty of this mass.  But the thing I loved it best about it was something called the Last Gospel.  Some of you who were Roman Catholic might remember this. At the very end of the Mass, the priest read a portion of the Gospel we just heard.  That essentially marked the end of the Mass.
When you think about it, it’s liturgically brilliant really. In a sense, a reading about the beginning—the very beginning—is read at the end of the Mass.
In our beginning is our end, in our end if our beginning.
I love the concept of the Last Gospel. Because I love this reading from the first chapter of John. In fact, if I had a favorite scripture, this one would be it.  It’s theologically compact. It’s a perfect summary of Christian faith and theology.  And there are just layers and layers of thought and sentiment in this passage from John.
The beginning we experience today in our Gospel reading is a bit different than the beginning we read about in Genesis.
The beginning we encounter today even harkens back further than the creation of Adam and Eve. It goes back to before those creation stories to who and what God was initially.
“In the beginning…” we hear at the beginning of St. John’s Gospel.
And they are certainly the most appropriate words if ever there were any.  Especially at this time of the year.  As this year runs down and the new year begins, our thoughts turn to beginnings.  
We think about that New Year and how important a new year is our lives.  It heralds for us a sense of joy—and fear—of the future.  All of a sudden we are faced with the future.  It lies there before us—a mystery.  Will this coming year bring us joy or will it bring us sadness?  Will it be a good year or a bad year?  And we step forward into the New Year without knowing what that year will hold for us. But, the fact is, at the very beginning moment, we can’t do much more than just be here, right now.  We need to just experience this beginning.  And we can’t let that anxiety of the future take hold.  We just need to be here, right now, and take part fully in this new beginning.
That’s what beginnings are all about, I guess.  That one moment when we can say:
“Right now! This is it! We are alive and we are here! Now!”
And we all know that just as soon as we do, it’ll be past.
In our reading from John this morning, it’s also one of those moments.  In that moment, we get a glimpse of one of those “right now” moments.  
It seems as though, for that moment, it’s all clear.  At least for John anyway.
We encounter, the “Word.”  The Word, as John intends, is, of course, Jesus.  Jesus as the knowledge and mind of God.  Jesus as the essence of God.  This is an appropriate way to begin the Gospel of John and to begin our new year as well.  And, in those early Masses before the 1960s, it was an appropriate way to end Mass.
It is a great beginning. It sets the tone for us as followers of Jesus.  He was there in the beginning.  And he is here, now, with us in our beginning.  And in him, we experience a beginning that doesn’t seem to end. In Jesus, God comes forward and becomes present among us in a way we could never possibly imagine.  
God appears to us  here not as God in the Old Testament, cloaked behind pillars of fire or thunderstorms or wind. Instead, in Jesus, God appears before us, as one of us in a whole new beginning.  God’s word, God’s wisdom, God’s essence became flesh.  
The Word spoken to us in this beginning moment, is a word of Love.  The commandment this Word tells us of is a commandment to love.  Love God and love one another as you love yourselves.
I enjoy this beginning because this is the true message of Jesus as the Word. Maybe the true message of Jesus is that, in God’s Kingdom, that beginning keeps on and on, without end.  
In God’s Kingdom there is constant renewal.  In God’s Kingdom it is always like New Year’s Day—always fresh, always full of hope for a future that does not end or disappoint.
As we prepare to celebrate 2015, this is a great way to live this beginning moment.  In this beginning moment, let us think about beginnings and how important they are for us personally and for our spiritual lives.  And let us do what we can to be the bringers of new beginnings not only in our own lives, but in the lives of others.
With this encounter with the Word, we, like John, are also saying in this moment, this moment is holy.  This moment is special.  This moment is unique and beautiful, because God is reaching out to us. Unlike how we might feel at the New Year—full of both hope and apprehension—in this instance, in our grasping of it, it doesn’t wiggle away from it.  It doesn’t fall through our fingers like sand.  Or snow.  It stays with us.  Always new.  Always fresh.  Always being renewed.
We’re here.  Right now.  We’re alive!  The future is happening right now.  The Word, the Essence, of God has come to us as one of us.  It’s incredible, really.  This moment is a glorious and holy one.
So, let us, in this holy moment, be joyful.  Let us in this holy moment rejoice.  And let us, in this holy moment, in this holy beginning, look forward to what awaits us with courage and confidence.  Amen.

Christmas

December 25, 2014

4 Advent

December 21, 2014

My new book THE DOWNSTAIRS TENANT due out MONDAY

Available Monday, December 22, 2014
THE DOWNSTAIRS TENANT AND OTHER STORIES
Jamie Parsley’s first book of short fiction contains 15 stories (and one play) of Dakota at mid-Twentieth Century, a time when morals, ideals and society in general were in flux. Capturing the “Prairie Gothic” genre, these stories are, at turns, tender and haunting, mystical and stoically unflinching, furtive and emotionally raw, violent and humorous. The characters in them struggle with overwhelming loss, tenuous faith, persistent doubt, nagging obsessions, haunted affection and, of course, an unpredictable natural world in which they ultimately find themselves exposed and vulnerable. 
 
JAMIEPARSLEY is the author twelve books of poems, including Fargo, 1957 (2010, Institute for Regional Studies). An Episcopal priest, he serves as Priest-in-Charge of St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, Fargo, ND. He was appointed an Associate Poet Laureate of North Dakota in 2004 by Poet Laureate Larry Woiwode.
 

Article from today's Fargo Forum

He's raising the bar with his vintage glassware
By  Ryan Johnson  Today at 10:28 p.m.
FARGO - When Jamie Parsley spotted a 1940s bar cart at an antique store, he knew he needed to buy it.“I was really looking for something for my vintage (cocktail) shakers more than anything else,” he said.
But over the past two years, the small stand with brass legs and three glass shelves has become much more than a practical way of displaying his shakers, decanters and glasses.“It’s definitely a conversation piece, and not everybody has one of these,” he said. “That was part of the other reason why I really, really liked it.”Vintage bar carts are a popular home accessory once again, according to Brett Bernath, owner of Midmodmadhaus in downtown Fargo – but he has a hard time finding them for his midcentury modern store, and an even harder time keeping one in stock.“They sell right away when I do find them,” he said. “They’re something that I’ll throw up on my (Facebook) page and usually get a call or someone comes in in the first couple days.”While the resurgence of midcentury modern furniture, accessories and even cocktails from the 1940s-1960s is often said to be a reaction to the popularity of AMC’s period drama “Mad Men,” Bernath said the main driving force is easier to understand: nostalgia.“For people of my generation and maybe a generation older, the people who are my prime customers, this is what was in their grandma’s house or was their parents’ secondhand furniture when they were a kid, and that’s the connection with it,” he said.‘Epitome of style’Parsley, a priest at St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church in Fargo and a poet and author, said he had always loved the midcentury modern style. But he got a chance to embrace that six years ago when he moved into the church’s nearby rectory, a large single-family house built in 1959 that’s still full of detail from that period.Through careful searching at thrift and antique stores, as well as gifts and freebies from congregants and friends, he’s filled the space with accents from 1957 to 1963, including an old aluminum Christmas tree with a retro color wheel to light it up.Like the rest of his vintage goods, Parsley slowly amassed an impressive collection of vintage decanters, glasses, shakers and an old seltzer bottle to fill up the bar cart that he said has become a piece to gather around whenever he entertains at home.“There’s a sturdiness to this, and you can tell the way they built it that it was meant to last,” he said. “That was the epitome of style at that point.” While Parsley said it’s not necessary to use a bar cart like the characters of “Mad Men” – a morning cocktail at a business meeting is no longer as accepted these days – he said new owners of this fun, functional furniture should use it for its original purpose of serving drinks.“I think the key is to be creative,” he said. “If they’re interested in the vintage stuff, this is probably going to be your focal point for the vintage kind of things. If nothing else, it’s a great place to put some of those vintage glasses out and to really display that.”Vintage bar cart, classic cocktailsLike midcentury modern style and design, old-fashioned cocktails also are making a “huge comeback” in Fargo-Moorhead right now, according to Richard Pallay III, restaurant manager at Mezzaluna.“Old Fashioneds, last words and perfect Manhattans, these are all drinks that are really, really booming and customers are getting aware of it again and they’re loving it again and finding little variations,” he said.So it makes sense for new owners of vintage bar carts to up their game and master at least one classic cocktail to impress their guests, according to Pallay.How to stock a bar cart will depend on the owner’s individual tastes and preferences, he said, as well as what kind of drinks they’d like to serve during parties and gatherings. But Pallay said quality tools, such as a bar spoon and shaker, will come in handy for any at-home mixologist.He recommends stocking up on the basics, including sweet vermouth, a good whiskey and vodka that’s at least triple distilled and a gadget to squeeze juice out of fresh fruit – something he said will make every drink much better and fresher.For those who are uninitiated with mixing up classic cocktails, Pallay offered a simple recipe for a classic Old Fashioned that’s sure to keep guests coming back for more.First, pour about an ounce and a half of bourbon or rye whiskey over ice. Add two dashes of angostura bitters, a few dashes of plain water and a little bit of simple syrup, which is equal parts sugar and water.“You just muddle all that together, garnish with an orange slice and you’re good to go,” he said.Once comfortable with the basics, Pallay suggests incorporating variations into our own drinks to make a signature cocktail that guests will remember while still getting a classic flavor.“It’s this re-picking back up instead of recreating something brand new,” he said. “Why not take something that’s been done before, put a little tweak on it and just make it delicious and fit your needs?”
Ryan Johnson After four years of covering news for the Grand Forks Herald and The Forum of Fargo-Moorhead, Ryan Johnson has been a features reporter for The Forum's Variety section since 2013. His prior beats included politics, business, city government and higher education. Johnson is a 2008 alumnus of the University of North Dakota. Have a comment to share about a story? Letters to the editor should include author’s name, address and phone number. Generally, letters should be no longer than 250 words. All letters are subject to editing. Send to letters@forumcomm.comRMJohnson@forumcomm.com(701) 241-5587

3 Advent

Gaudete Sunday

December 14, 2014

Vegan Diary: One Year Vegan

One year ago today, I went vegan. So, essentially, this is my first vegan birthday. As strange as that might seem t some people, it has been a truly amazing year.

One year ago today, I planned on only trying veganism for one week. I had been vegetarian on and off for many years and I thought being vegan, though it seemed quite extreme, couldn’t be that much different than being lacto-ovo vegetarian. To say the least, I was wrong, wrong, wrong.
            Mind you, I am not saying it was an easy year. In no way was it easy. But it was a good decision to make for myself. And for that, I am grateful.
            Here are some of the benefits I’ve discovered in being vegan:      
AllergiesWithin that first week, I noticed that for the time in my life, my allergies were gone. This was the most surprising and most amazing aspects for me. I had suffered with allergies ever since I was very young. Those first few days waking up without a clogged nose or a sore throat were wonderful. I was, at first, a bit apprehensive in giving up my allergy meds, but soon I really didn’t them. The real test came in August, when my allergies were the worst. This usually was a very miserable time for me, especially during harvest time. Although I felt a bit of a tightness in my nose at times, I had no real symptoms during the time, though I had meds ready in case it got too bad.
IllnessI have been amazed by the fact that I have barely been sick with anything, not even a cold. I did develop flu-like symptoms last month, but my reason was because the evening before I ended up eating a meal which included cheese. After not eating cheese for almost year, the cheese ended up acting like a synthetic in my system: it was a strange and alien factor in my body. Even then, it was not a particularly intense form of illness. It mostly involved a sore throat (which is another issue I have not had to deal with all since giving up dairy) and fatigue.
EnergyMy energy levels have been better than ever. I sleep better at night than I ever have in my entire life. I awake in the morning feeling refreshed and clear-headed and I actually have the energy to do the work that needs to be done in a day.
WeightThis was the most surprising for me. For the better part of this year, I had lost no weight. In fact, I actually gained a few pounds here and there. Only in the last month and half have I started to lose weight—as in losing 20+ pounds. There are two reasons for the lack of weight loss: one, I found myself eating much more as a vegan than I ever did as an omnivore or a lacto-ovo vegetarian. The food tasted so much better as a vegan and there were so many more varieties of food. Plus, it was fun exploring all the vegan foods I could eat. That phase is pretty much over. I have learned that, like any food one eats, one needs to eat in moderation and, even for vegans, the old maxim of “eating less and moving more” really is best. The second issue I discovered regarding weight was that there were one or two contributing factors that were hijacking the whole thing, namely, alcohol. I like to have drinks on occasion, but I have discovered that cutting back on alcohol has most definitely helped with eh weight loss.
CompassionThis is an issue I have not discussed too often with people, partly because I did not want to sound like some bleeding heart. But I have discovered that both the meat and dairy industries are industries based on much suffering. Those animals who produce the meat and dairy we eat suffer. There’s no way around that, of course. For any living thing to die, it has to die somewhat violently. I grew up in a world where this was a fact we simply accepted. I’ve remember vividly my grandmother and aunts cutting the heads of the chickens they raised. I remember seeing cows slaughtered. We always knew this and accepted it.
But, as I’ve grown older, I’ve come to accept kind of Christian karma in life, namely that there are consequences to every action we make. Or, as I always like to quote, “the chickens always come home to roost.” That thinking can certainly be applied to the food we eat. There is violence involved in meat and dairy, and I can’t help but believe that many of the health issues we have come from eating food gained by violent means.  That violence, at least on a spiritual level, can, I believe, be ingested by eating food gained by violent means.
For me (and I only speak for myself on this issue), a decision to not eat meat and dairy is as much a moral issue as it is a health issue. As a Christian, I really strongly believe in non-violence as much as possible, and that conviction carries over to the very food I eat.
The apologetic veganOne important lesson I learned this year was  to be (borrowing a term from pop star, Moby) an “apologetic vegan.” I realize how threatening veganism seems to people who have never even considered it before. I can say that it used to seem very daunting to me in my pre-vegan days (and even during my first month or so).
I have found that people are much more open to discuss and ask questions if I gently and apologetically inform them I’m vegan rather than wave it in their faces. Restaurant servers, friends and family hosting meals and dining partners all seem to appreciate this approach. And, more importantly, feel more comfortable engaging me in conversations about why and how I’m vegan.
Saying all that, I will stress that I was not, however, a spineless vegan. If something I ordered came with cheese on it, I sent it back with a respectful but firm explanation. I wasn’t willing to make compromises so I could be nice. 
ProselytizingYes, although I am a priest, I’ve never been good at proselytizing about my faith and I am certainly no good as doing so about what I eat. I realize that being vegan is not for everybody. Yes, ideally, it would be great if people could eat compassionately and healthy. But food is a sacred matter to people, I’ve discovered, and as such it, like religion, becomes a very passionate issue for some people.
            It has been frustrating having people tell me I should not be vegan because it is unhealthy (people who, ironically, have had health issue which were probably due to their own eating habits). It has been frustrating having people not being as respectful of my diet as I have been of theirs. But, as apologetic as I may be to some people, I have not backed down nor compromised my convictions on this issue.
            Like my faith, I have found that probably the loudest thing I can say about being vegan isn’t at all what I say, but the life I live. And I can say that my life as a vegan, has most definitely been a good and healthy one.   
MistakesI made many mistakes this year. Who knew that animal products were in so many different things? I certainly never had a clue that even things like some guacamole, my white soy latte at Starbuck’s or some of the wine I enjoyed had animal products  in them (and don’t even get me started on sugar).
            Sadly, I realized, that it is almost impossible to be 100% vegan. Sometimes I had to learn that that delicious cheeseless pizza was made with a dough that had animal product in it. Or that burger bun I ordered at the pub had dairy in it (after I ordered it).
            Probably the biggest lesson I learned was this: I learned to forgive myself. And I learned that being vegan meant more than being a purist. Being vegan meant making the best choices I could in a particularly situation and ultimately to remain true to my convictions.