Saint Matthew's

Today was a rather quiet and peaceful day. Visits (limited to 4) went well today, even though one was to a fan of the New York Mets baseball squad, a gentleman who just doesn’t like anything to do with the Yankees, including their fans. I was kind to him.

But the day was quiet. The telephone didn’t ring off the hook. My cell phone didn’t ring at all – a rare day, to say the least. No text messages. A few emails came in that required thoughtful responses.

The only real blemish to the day was that my wireless router went down. After working with it for a while, and not knowing exactly what I did, it started to work again.

I did work with the new Mac OS X Leopard this morning. What an operating system! Microsoft should take some hints from Apple on how to do these OS things. People I know who upgraded earlier this year to Microsoft’s Vista operating system are cursing up a storm. It is way too buggy and requires hundreds upon hundreds of dollars of computer upgrades. And the cost  -  over $300 for the so-called premium package with all the buggy bells and whistles.

Here in Leopard, everything just seems to work. What I really like about this Mac OS X upgrade – Spaces. This is a terrific addition. It allows for separate work “spaces” on your computer whereby the programs that use for particular tasks are open and ready to go. For example, I have set up a space where the programs I use in church all week are all there. Word processing, database management, presentations, and music (yes, I listen to music) are all open in a particular ‘space.’ Another space I set up is where all my communication applications are moving. Apple Mail, iChat, Google Reader (though, I don’t know for how long since Apple Mail’s latest upgrade has an RSS reader in it), and Google Talk (the windowed version) are set up together. I switch from space to space seamlessly.

Apple just does things right.

Well, it is after 5:00pm. I’m going to work on the blog later on this evening – want to put up some more blog links on the right side. Otherwise, it is going to be – God willing – a peaceful and quiet night here on Grand Street.

After days of just being busy at night, this evening is nice.

On Monday evening, I had a doctor’s appointment that lasted until 8:00pm. On Tuesday, I had dinner and a few drinks across the Hudson (don’t ask). Wednesday night was bible class at Gloria Dei. And tonight …. nothing.

Finally, I can just rest; something that has not come easy the past several weeks. Whether it was worrying about my health, to feeling empty over an illness to a friend, or even work that has just piled up, to finally have a night to do absolutely nothing and not have to worry about anything … it’s a blessing.

In other things:

Tonight, the Rangers are hosting the Devils. As I type this, a miracle has occurred: the Rangers scored a goal.

After many weeks, I have finally finished off a six-pack of Sam Adam’s Oktoberfest beer. Yes, as you could probably guess, I don’t drink a lot of beer. If I had a choice, I would pour a glass of wine first. But tonight, I didn’t have a bottle white wine chilled, so I reached for a Sam Adams. I made a chicken and vegetable dish with Trader Joe’s wild rice. I put too much garlic in the dish, but the beer washed it down.

Now Sam Adams makes a terrific, terrific beer. I like their dark lager. Even their light beer is excellent. It is just that I don’t drink a lot of beer. And yes, this sounds very anti-Lutheran. A pastor in the church started by Martin Luther doesn’t love beer as much as Marty? Yeah.

I hope to get some quality sleep tonight.

Don’t laugh.

My sleep habits have people here at Saint Matthew’s scratching their heads.

I usually get anywhere between 4 and 5 hours worth of sleep a night, leaning closer to the 4 hours per. And I know, that isn’t very good. But I wake up early and have since college in the early 90s. I took the subway to Saint John’s University – that meant getting the bus at 5:00am in Getty Square in Yonkers, riding to 241st Street in the Bronx to catch the 1 train, take that to 59th Street where I switched to the B or D, took it two stops to jump on the F or the E, then ride out to Jamaica where I hopped on a bus for a twenty minute ride to the campus.

That trip took two hours. I regularly got to the campus around 7:30am. I ran to the cafeteria for coffee and headed off to class. It wasn’t that I loved getting up at ridiculous hours – it was a necessity. Most of my classes for four years started at 8:00am, even in my senior year.

And since then, I’ve held to the 4-hour a night sleep rule.

Usually, I hit bed around midnight, after the late news and David Letterman’s “Top Ten.” After about four hours, I wake up. I stare at the clock beaming 3:45 or some other terrible number and I stay awake. Sometimes I do come downstairs and read the morning newspaper (the electronic edition of the New York Post and the New York Times through the Times Reader). Yes, I make coffee. But then I get ready for the day while most people are still dreaming.

Whenever I tell someone about my “sleep problem,” they always look at me like I have three heads.

But that’s just me. Some may have the inclination to sleep till midday or later. Others may love to sleep until the alarm clock rings and press the “snooze” button a dozen or so times. Not me.

Reading some of the blog posts in my Google Reader tonight, I noticed that the tech website Lifehacker had an interesting post on how people can become “early risers.” They actually link to another blog that deals with this issue. And I had to laugh at some of the suggestions.

Take, for instance, “eliminate stress.” Huh? How is anyone supposed to do that?

Or “try getting up with the sun.” Yeah, I get up with the sun — when it rises in England.

“Write down why you’re getting up.” OK. Most people will have to write: “I want to get up because if I don’t, my boss will fire me.” Still, most will sleep through the alarm.

“Tell people about your early rising.” Duh. I do that – everyone just stares.

And then my favorite: “Find an Accountability Partner.” Find someone who also wants to wake up early and make a sort of buddy system with that person.

Maybe I should offer this service as an accountability partner. Give me your telephone number and the time you need to get up. I’ll give you a buzz and tell you what a great job you’re doing! That sounds fun, doesn’t it?

Well, it’s after 10:00pm, maybe I should start heading for bed.

Ha!

I am sitting here in the church office, about two hours before the start of our Divine Service, and I can’t help but think about the previous week. Here are just a few highlighted bullets:

- My life pre-clergy was exceedingly fluid – every aspect of my life moved quickly. I never got worn out because the events that made up my life changed everyday. Did I get tired of doing what could be considered “the same thing” day after day? No. The rush I felt when I talked and wrote was second to none. I laugh, but it is true – my first real “vacation” from the time my college days ended to the day I walked onto the campus of Concordia Theological Seminary in Fort Wayne was that day I packed up my car to leave New York.

Fluidity in the pastoral office is a given. “Things” come up at all hours of the day. I may want my day to go smoothly, but people get sick, go through hardships, suffer pain or do their best to cover it up — and then I go to work bringing, in my small way, the love of God through Christ Jesus. But that’s what I do – I throw myself into my work – that’s just how I am and will always be. This type of personality does have its drawbacks, however: I worry that what I am doing isn’t going to go just right. Take the recent letter sent home from our church office. I wrote the letter and after it was printed, I noticed that the computer’s spell-check missed a word. I sat down and spent hours correcting the mistake in the letter before signing each one and sending it out.

- I’ve spent years battling a personality that promoted laziness and shyness. Oh, how I hated feeling lazy! And the shyness – my goodness!! I was afraid to say ”good morning” to people when I was a kid or teenager. I was even named the quietest person in my graduating high school class. Shy and quiet … then couple the “lazy” problem on top of it! I was always feeling bad about myself. If I was born just a few years later, I probably would have been put on some of those designer drugs psychotherapists pass out like candy today. These were problems throughout my growing up years and after college, I vowed to beat them back every chance I had. Keeping on top of it is a challenge. Most of the time, I win the battle.

But that doesn’t mean the shyness or the laziness don’t poke their heads up every now and then. Once in a while, I do get that feeling that I’m not good enough.

Thanks be to God that He is there to kick me in the pants and wake me up! He keeps me moving forward and keeps me in a good frame of mind.

- Someone asked me this week about my “social” life. I laughed. I don’t really have one.

Don’t think it – I already know it — that’s just pathetic.

Maybe I am making “penance” from my previous life. Maybe my mind thinks I have to lock myself up like some cloistered monk for all those things I said, wrote, and did to others in those long forgotten years.

Or maybe I just don’t really know. Maybe I am taming my personality to a point where I am purposely “boring” myself.

I don’t know.

- My post about caring got a few responses from friends and acquaintances via email or telephone. Some were a little harsh, saying that I take things too seriously and need to take my foot off the accelerator. They explained that as a pastor, I can only do so much; of which I agreed – but that doesn’t stop the caring and the worrying. I don’t think I will ever change.

This morning when I visited my father in the hospital, a Roman Catholic Eucharistic Minister came by to offer Holy Communion. My father, being one of those “old time” Roman Catholics, he doesn’t like receiving communion from anyone other than a priest. He grew up in Italy and served as an altar boy before emigrating to the United States. As a youngster, he was taught that before receiving communion, the penitent must confess sins to a priest. It is something that has stayed with him.

And since a Eucharistic minister doesn’t hear confession or pronounce forgiveness, my father doesn’t like to receive.

Today, I watched as the Eucharistic minister “handed out” the body of Christ and I have to say, I don’t get it.

She took a pyx (a container that is used to bring Holy Communion to the sick) from her pocket(!), takes the top off, and hands the sick the body of Christ (I don’t know if I hope that it was consecrated or that it wasn’t consecrated as to not insult our Lord with this weak ceremony). Of course, there is no blood of Christ – the wine. Just a few words and the reception of a wafer.

To me, it seems lacking. When communion is brought to a homebound person or to the sick, I feel that they want something more than just drive-by communion. They want to know that something greater is before them – the body and blood of their Savior Jesus Christ, who lived, died, resurrected, and ascended back to heaven for them. They want to know that their sins are forgiven and that by receiving the body and blood of Christ that forgiveness is very real. A complete communion liturgy with the reception of the body and blood of Christ brings peace.

 No one is going to believe me, but I really do not like to complain about things. I try to let the issues that raise my blood pressure roll off my back. Sometimes, I’m just too hotheaded and explode. However, as a pastor, I try to catch myself when I want to go crazy or use terrible language against someone.

Many times, I am successful.

But then there are those times when I want to strangle the person closest to me. I get stressed really fast and I have to catch myself quick or I will say and/or do something that is just plain wrong.

Take, for instance, this morning when I was at Morning Prayer, I received a telephone call at home from Englewood Hospital informing me that a member of Saint Matthew’s was admitted yesterday. They didn’t leave a name of this mystery congregation member; so I called to find out.

And low and behold, the hospital said that they could not give out that information over the telephone. Remember, they called me this morning telling me that a member of my church was in the hospital. After an attempt to get them give the name up, I hung up. I have cordless phones and I can’t really slam the receiver down to show the person on the other end that I was not happy.

In a sense, I kept my cool, to a point. I was angry and my blood pressure was creeping up, but I didn’t say or do anything that would make me look bad.

I sat down, collected my thoughts, and didn’t complain about the idiocy of not getting simple information.

So I go to the hospital and find out what I suspected – no one from our church was admitted; it was a member of Saint Matthew’s of Bergenfield who was in the hospital.

Ugh.

Did I blow up? No.

Did I get warm under the collar? Of course.

But I didn’t explode or complain.

Instead, I came back home. I didn’t do anything irrational. Oh, I wanted to, but I didn’t.

Maybe I am learning how to deal with the stresses of life better than I was earlier on in my ministry.

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