Quotidian Epistolary

My mind is a bag of angry cats.

The cat lounges in my lap. The coffee is strong. There is a heat advisory for the next three days and I still have not fixed the a/c in my car. What madness is this? Jesus be a Hyundai dealership!

I keep returning to my “eschatological musicking” presentation from Ripon College, Cuddesdon (cir 2015). Nestled in the Oxfordshire countryside, presenting a paper there was the pinnacle of my academic career. Part band camp, part academic conference, the level of nerdistry on display was mind blowing. I was a very happy camper. Y’all need to check out the Christian Congregational Music Conference.

I want to do something with this presentation. Right now, I’m seeing if it can be turned into a journal essay. Maybe later I can parlay it into something larger. Right now, I’m not sure I have it in me to produce something larger than a 6000 word essay. Even that is a stretch. My mind is a bag of angry cats.

For now, I will continue to turn my attention to letters, epistles, about the everyday…thus the title of today’s scribblings, “Quotidian Epistolary.” I can write about what’s right in front of me in the moment. More than that is a struggle. I don’t know what connections in my brain are fried, but something’s still not quite right.

This is a letter to you, the reader…collectively and individually. Let us begin again. Together.

Today’s Franciscan nugget is…

“The Third Order is a Christian community whose members, although varied in race, education, and character, are bound into a living whole through the love we share in Christ. This unity of all who believe in him will become, as our Lord intended, a witness to the world of his divine mission. In our relationship with those outside the Order, we show the same Christ-like love, and gladly give of ourselves, remembering that love is measured by sacrifice.”

“…love is measured by sacrifice” is a challenging bit. Is this true? I don’t know that our individualist culture holds this particular perspective. What is it that we are being asked to sacrifice? Perhaps it is the ego. Perhaps it is our individualism. I’m not certain. I’ll be spending the day wondering what it is that I am willing to sacrifice and then ponder why I am unwilling to sacrifice the rest.

For so long, so many (women, people of color, LBGTQ+) have been asked to sacrifice their identities, their dreams, their whole lives for the sake of the white male patriarchy. The “great man” was surrounded by a crowd of sacrificial lambs who made his greatness possible. See: Thoomas Jefferson or Karl Barth. So, this notion of sacrifice is rightly challenged. And yet, I wonder.

As a middle aged cis white male, what is it that I am being asked to sacrifice? My privilege? Perhaps.

How do you understand sacrifice? Is it a measure of love? What are you willing to sacrifice? Let me know in the comments.