The Arrow's Path

So I got into Seabury last evening, and as I was initially getting out of the car I didn't want to leave my new MP3 player (I refuse to refer to it as an IPod) in the car. The case for it had fallen in the floor board and under the driver's seat. I didn't have a flash light so I didn't want to dig around for it. I grabbed my cheap plastic sunglasses case and stuck the MP3 player in it. I started moving stuff from my car up to my dorm room in the dark. I realized after I had went out to dinner that I didn't have my MP3 player. I searched my room, searched my car. I even went back to the restaurant to see if it had accidently fallen out of my jacket pocket there. No luck. I hate losing things, but figured I must have accidently placed it somewhere in the moving-stuff-up-from-my-car phase. I got up this morning and searched around again with no luck. I tend to get fixated on finding stuff I have lost, but no dice. It had rained all night, so I gave up and drove to St.

After several hours of driving, I have safely returned to Seabury. It feels like I have been away for a year; its really odd. But good to be back nonetheless.

Thanks for this , Andrew...I think. In other extremely sad news, the comic strip Foxtrot is essentially ending at the end of the year and moving to Sundays only. All good things must come to an end, I suppose. Gary Larson and the Far Side went down hill the last year or so. Even Garfield needs to end because Jim Davis lost it years ago although with Jon Arbuckle finally dating the Vet, it has picked up a little life of late. Foxtrot's demise makes me sad though because it has been a cutting edge comic for years and it hasn't lost anything. I guess its good to go out on top.

So I was watching the Emerald Bowl last night on ESPN between UCLA and Florida State. I know...I know. Not exactly a BCS bowl, but having been in England and missed the entire football season, I'm content with table scraps. And, truth be told, it was a good game until the 4th quarter with UCLA ran out of gas. ESPN and ABC their parent company, own the rights to the Rose Bowl this year between Michigan and USC. Granted, that could be a good game, but ESPN has been shamelessly plugging the Rose Bowl every 10 seconds for weeks now. It reached a new low last night. Near the end of the first half, the Aflac Trivia question came up. What team holds the current streak for consecutive bowl game appearances at 35? My father and I pondered this for a moment. He figured maybe Nebraska. I was about to agree, and then said, "bet you 10 bucks its another shamelss plug for the Rose Bowl." Sure enough. the answer was "Michigan, who by is playing in the Rose Bowl [enter another 30 se

I have a nice collection of photos I took of Pub signs in England that I have been meaning to post. You have seen this one from a Dickens novel (and Roger's hometown) before on this blog. This is near St. Albans' Cathedral. Lovely pint of Spitfire. This was next to the church in Flamstead. Friendly folks in Small Town England. This one was at the end of St. Julian's Alley, where St. Julian of Norwich might have gone for a pint after a long day of sitting in a cell. A little blurry, but a classic. This one was going toward the Cathedral in Norwich. This is not actually a pub sign, but I spent enough money there to warrant it in this blog entry. For those of us in the ordination process, we know all about The Bishop's Finger. I was fond of this name. The Compleat Angler was the first treatise on fishing written by Isaak Walton, who also did a biography of his friend Richard Hooker, whom you might just know something about.

The Archer wishes everyone a Merry Christmas! (click image to enlarge)

A friend of mine once had an Instant Messenger away message that said, "If you die and St. Peter asks you if you want regular heaven or pie heaven, choose pie heaven. It may be a trick, but if not mmmm...boy!" Well, I feel the same way about home made Baklava. I made this batch today because my folks wanted some arabic food, which happens to be a culinary specialty of mine (long story). Yes I will share, but you have to come to my house. Baklava doesn't keep if you mail it (wink, wink)...um, yeah. (nod, nod) That's it...right. (Say no more.)

My Westcottian readers will appreciate this anecdote. My aunt teaches a special education class at a middle school (pre-teenagers) in Knoxville. As they are about to get out for Christmas break, she asked me at church on Sunday if I would like to come and teach a class period on my travels to Westcott House. Since I have a minor in education, I was happy to since it has been some years since I student taught. We had a jolly fun time. I made some powerpoint presentations with pictures I had taken in Cambridge, London, Granada, and Rome. I don't think they quite comprehended what Fish pie was (of course I don't think I can either, and I ate it!), but they loved looking at British money and some of the postcards I brought back. I showed them a 10 pound note, and one boy exclaimed, "This doesn't weigh 10 pounds!" They especially liked the pictures of the Alhambra and the painted ceiling of Ely Cathedral. The biggest hit of the afternoon was by far my Westcott House em

Facebook was all the rage at Westcott , and I finally found a way to link facebook with my blog. (When all else fails, read the directions.) You will notice a facebook block in the sidebar of my blog that I added yesterday. If anyone needs to contact me via facebook , they are more than welcome to. Just click on the link. I like it a lot better than myspace, which frankly stinks. I am thoroughly convinced facebook , like blogging, is a gargantuan freetime virtual black hole, but I have reconnected with a few people I haven't heard from in years. In that respect, it is a good thing. And it is fun.

I was at St. James in Knoxville, Tennessee, on Sunday. I never really went there as a member when I lived here. I usually went to St. John's Cathedral when I was in college. I only discovered St. James in my seminary years because my aunt and cousin go there. St. James also has an incredible choir, so usually when I am in town, I go to St. James. This of course usually entails Sundays when I am home for Christmas, and occasionally when I am home for a few weeks in the summer. So, all told, I probably have been to St. James a grand total of maybe ten times. For whatever reason, the rector there took a liking to me because he thinks highly of Seabury. Last year at the Christmas eve service, I popped into St. James having only been there a few times during the summer and having had one small conversation with the rector over coffee. The rector came out looking flustered and happened to see me sitting in the pews with my aunt. He came up to me and said, "You went to Seabury, you k

Apparently the Archer comes by it honestly. Cartooning runs in the family. My grandfather (who when he was still alive did the cover art for a few reprint paperback editions of the Edgar Rice Burroughs' Tarzan series, one of which was put on display in the Smithsonian Tarzan exhibit some years ago) and my aunt (who has illustrated a few children's books and is currently working on another one) have been known to cartoon from time to time, and certainly the administrator of this blog is renowned in certain circles for my Archer Comics series and some political cartooning (back when I was young, naive, and idealistic) I did years ago that made rounds in the Knoxville and Chattanooga newspapers. Well...enter the next generation of Archer family cartoonists. My cousin/adopted brother decided to enter this cartoon he drew in the art class competition at his high school, and asked if I would put it on my blog. I was happy to oblige, since this is a rather sizable comic done in pastel

We hiked out to the forest near our house a few days ago to pick out a good Christmas Advent tree. I think we found a winner. We only ran into one panther this year, so it was a good excursion. After we letthe tree sit out for a day or so to make sure the critters were out of it, we brought it in and decorated it. We decided on a homemade theme year. We strung popcorn and dried orange slices for garlands, and also hung some hardened gingerbread men (and women) as decorations. We also added some candied and lacquered apples from the fall that we painted in green and red. The angel at the top is hand croqueted by my mother. I think its right pretty.

I was rather astounded at being profiled at one of the airports I traveled through on my way back from jolly old England. It has taken me a few days to process exactly what I saw happening, so I have not blogged about it until now. I had to check some luggage, which they had to run through the big X-ray machine before putting it on the belt to be put in the cargo hold. As they were running it through, one of the security officers told me to wait, in case they needed to unlock my suitcase. Sure enough, I could tell something was wrong because something in my bag apparently peeked their interest as they ran it through the X-ray contraption. The security officer asked me to unlock my bag, which I did. He proceeded to go to the stack of books I had in the bottom of my suitcase and pull out the two black religious looking books. One was a BCP, one was a Hebrew-English Torah I had bought to use for the Deuteronomy exegesis class I had been in at Westcott. The officer carefully thumbed throug

I came home to my folks' place to find that rural East Tennessee now has broadband internet access. I feel like Rip Van Winkle. Next thing you know we will have new fangled things like sewers.

Setting: Sunday afternoon, my father gets up from his nap and wanders into the living room, to find me watching football. Archer, Sr.: (yawn) Who's playing? Archer: I don't know...Dallas and somebody. Archer, Sr.: The Cowboys ? Why are you watching that game? Archer: I don't care, its American football.

After some 10 and a half hours in a plane (London to Dublin to Chicago to Knoxville) I arrived safely home at 10 PM EST. Ironically enough, the in flight movie was The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe . Go figure...

I have been pondering for some time what exactly I was going to do for my last post from Westcott House. I have made so many friends and seen such wonderful places, that I cannot even begin to explain in words exactly what this time has meant to me personally. Former Westcottian Roger Chapman, when he preached his last sermon at Seabury last year, likened going back to Westcott after his exchange program ended as "stepping back through the wardrobe." That has always stuck in my mind because that is exactly what it feels like. Like in the Narnia books, there have been many adventures and many colorful characters I will never forget, I go back not the person I was when I entered the wardrobe, and in many ways I do not want to go. For all things there is a season, and unfortunately my time in Narnia has ended. I step back through the wardrobe to my own reality, a reality of the hills of Tennessee for Christmas, a return to the Seabury community, General Ordination Exams, field e

From an actual e-mail I received: "Dear Candidate for 2007 General Ordination Exam, If you receive this email you are logged on and should have no trouble receiving the exam questions in January. Best wishes for a joyful holiday. - GOE Administrator" Joyful...right. I bet he also writes great "Dear John" letters.

I buzzed into London today to spend the afternoon at the British Museum. It was most impressive, especially the Near Eastern exhibits on Egypt and Assyria. The exterior was British enough. The interior was quite different. Sort of domed with a restaurant in the center. The interior reading room below the restaurant resembled the Jedi temple in Episode III. Here's one of the Egyptian exhibits on Ramses II, one of the most powerful Pharoah's. Very Assryian statue is seen here. I probably came up to this critter's thigh. It was quite large.

About a month back in a Liturgy class I am (or rather was since the term is now over) taking, the topic somehow came up about the English "Christingle" service. Being an American, I had never heard of it. They tried to explain it, but as far as I could tell, the Christingle was some weird Advent liturgy were British kids did perverted things to a orange. Today, I got my very first Christingle. The Westcott chapel had a Christingle service for the kids. Apparently it started out as a sort of Advent/Christmas service for kids by a charity called the Children's Society . According to their official website: "Christingle services bring together family and friends of all ages. Held from Advent to Epiphany, this festive celebration communicates the Christian message in an inspiring way to adults and children alike. Its wide appeal makes it an ideal way to encourage newcomers to church and extend your congregation. The Children's Society holds its special Christingle ap

courtesy: Anglican Communion News Service: ACNS 4225 LAMBETH 5 DECEMBER 2006 Archbishop of Canterbury's Christmas Message to the Anglican Communion Also available in Spanish, French and Arabic, click here . 'He comes the prisoners to release, In Satan's bondage held.' These are words from one of my favourite Advent hymns, 'Hark the glad sound!' And they draw our minds towards an aspect of Christmas that is often neglected because we prefer some of the 'softer' elements in the story. Jesus of Nazareth was born, lived, died and rose because human beings were not free. Since the dawn of human history, men and women had been trapped - even the very best of them - by the heritage of suspicion andalienation towards God and fear of each other. They had been caught upin the great rebellion against God that began even before human history,the revolt of God's creatures against God out of pride andself-assertion. Satan, the fallen angel, stands as a sign of thi

Legal Disclaimer: For purposes of full disclosure, I include this story. No animals were harmed in the writing of this entry, unless you consider a coffee bean to be an animal, in which case either you are insane or an animal was ground up and boiled. So I finished mumbling through Morning Prayer this morning in the Westcott Chapel and went to the refectory for breakfast. (Personally, I am convinced that if we are made in the likeness and image of God, then God is not, in fact, awake at 7:40, but that is neither here nor there.) I know most of my Seaburian readers will find my eating breakfast bizarre since I rarely ever eat breakfast. But Tuesday is hot breakfast day, and you have to eat the beans, fried bread, mushrooms, and other completely and utterly bizarre unique things included in an English Full Monty breakfast because lunch on Tuesday is usually a bowl of hot water soup. Thus, you have to fill up on breakfast or you will be hungry again by 1:30. The one brilliant thing abou

Which President are you? Your Result: Richard M. Nixon You are a strong leader and your constituents have a lot of initial faith in you but, in the end, you often lose your popularity and cause others to question your motives and honesty. Your insistence on sticking to your principles and refuse to compromise whatever the cost is ususally what does you in. You'd be wise to be a little more flexible and realize that there are very few absolute truths in this world. Gerald F. Ford Calvin Coolidge John F. Kennedy Which President are you? Make Your Own Quiz Sticking to principles=Richard M. Nixon (?!?!?!?) I demand a recount. This is all just disturbing... -The Archer

This weekend as my last major hurrah in Europe, I flew to Granada, Spain, to see the Al Hambra, which is a Moorish palace/mosque/walled fortress in the plains near the Sierra Nevada mountains. This is the view from the airport. Yes, that is a palm tree and, yes, those are snow capped mountains in the background. As I was walking to the Al Hambra, I came across this interesting vignette. The top floor are life size statues of the Nativity with the bottom being real life shoppers. Wise men bringing gifts, and shoppers buying gifts. There are just so many sermon topics here, I am not going to begin to commentate. I passed by the Arabic spice market. It smelled delicious. (sorry, smells just don't translate into bloggery.) I walked past this fountain, one of many in the city. Apparently water was a fixation for the Moors. The entire Al Hambra is on a hill top, with a fountain at the top that drained all the way down to the bottom along trenches. You make your way up the side of the mo

I woke up from a mid morning nap, realizing it was almost 11. I packed up my laptop and books and rushed out the door to walk to my Friday class over at Westminster. Lectures are over for the term, and I forgot. Haha...just kidding. I meant to do that. At least now I have time to pack for Spain, and being thankful I am not in Chicago which apparently got Snow dumped on it.