PadreTex

As a culture, we have become a people who values instinctive responses. We seem no longer to value reflection and this is a tragic loss. This is true on every aspect of our lives these days and it is especially true when it comes to our faith.

I remember a conversation with one of my employers while I was in college. He knew that I was devout and that I was an active member of my parish, so he brought up the subject of religion. (In Texas, this is not a strange topic for conversation.) He was a baptist, and the son of a baptist minister. I remember trying to explain some point—I can’t recall what the actual topic was—and he was struck dumb. Finally he said to me, “I think you think to much about these things. We should have faith, and all of this analysis stops it.” It was my turn to be gob-stopped. I have not forgotten this exchange and it is emblematic of a certain sort of religious fervor that eschews the reasoning faculty of the human being.

Of course, religiously, this comes from the spirit of the camp fire revivals in the Great Awakening from which the sort of Baptists in the South generally come. It was a movement that emphasized the emotion and called that religious fervor. My formation made me very suspicious of feelings and emotions because they are so fickle and are terribly subject to manipulation. I visited a “mega-church” one time to tour the facilities and was shown a video control room they had set up for the services. It looked as complex and modern as the Monday Night Football truck. Then I was told that they had everything—the lighting, the sound, the backgrounds on the stage, etc.—programmed and calculated to evoke in the congregants particular emotions. Hmm… a scientifically designed program to effect a chosen religious spirit. It seems quite a dark thing to me: the emotion is the religion.

But this is also a symptom of a larger problem culturally. I have an intuition (something that is quite distinct from instinct) that modern reality programs, which are filled with drama and emotive disfunction, are little more than the secularization of the remnants of the Great Awakening. They are the deliberate stirring up of emotions, but in the secular age there is no teleological purpose, no end in sight, so they stir up only to evoke the emotion itself. The emotions are the subject. One could say that reality programs are the product of secular Protestantism.

In our age, we do not take time to reflect, and because we don’t we sometimes try to force decisions and actions that are not fully formed. A lack of thought and reflection (for my English friends, reflexion) has been a typical charge directed toward Americans, but this was an exaggeration… perhaps until now.

The word itself is now thought of in mechanical, geometric or mathematic contexts usually. Reflection, coming from the Latin to bend back (reflexio), is a withholding from action. It is a pause in which one looks at things in the broadest possible manner and considers well. For centuries this has been one of the most salient characteristics of Western Christianity, especially from the scholastic period forward (not to say that the earlier Fathers of the Church were not reflective). It was not essentially instinctive, but meditative.

The one time bastion of thought, the university, has become little different than a middle-class secular tent revival. Students are natural protestors because of their immaturity and naïveté, but this has been distorted by many in academia to become the raison d’être of a university education. One wonders if they have ever read Newman’s, The Idea of a University? I doubt it. More’s the pity.

I am reminded of Newman’s period of reflection as he was leaving Anglicanism. He was one of the principle leaders of the Oxford Movement at the time, but he seemed to be drawn elsewhere because of many years of study and deep thought. He didn’t become a Roman Catholic quickly; rather, it was a process that extended over many years. For any who would like to peek into his process, they may read his Apologia pro Vita Sua.

Reflection must be recovered by us all—regardless of our religion. It must be recovered in politics, the university, our faith and our personal lives. To think and reflect is part of what distinguishes us from the animals; and this to me is one of the greatest damnations of purely instinctive processing.

Intincts are not at infallible. All animals have them and we know from Pavlav that they can be conditioned. A large part of military training is pointed directly at developing a specific set of desired intincts in the warrior. This is necessary for his survival and success as a combatant. But instinct is surely a baser aspect of humanity. Even military commanders don’t rely upon it for making tactical decisions.

There are certain Christian instincts that must be trained in the neophyte, like the natural repugnance to immorality, but reflection must be tutored and developed. It is an imperative. This is done through reading thoughtful and intelligent writers (especially the Fathers of the Church), and especially through meditating on these writings prayerfully.

If there is to be any hope for our civilization—religiously, politically, or intellectually, then we must restore the importance of reflection in our lives. We must not allow ourselves to be bullied into quick responses when these things require sober meditation and thought. Sometimes we cannot give an answer when one desires it. Sometimes the time required for reflection and thought may take quite a while—as I have already said, it took Newman several years before he could make a decision.

The last word on this is simply to point out the foundational necessity of silence for reflection. Before one can truly meditate, think, contemplate, and reflect, one must carve out a space of quiet. We must learn how to turn off our televisions, radios, and iPods. We must learn to enter into silence once more if we would be wise. How counter-cultural!

Today we are expecting 7-9 inches of snow in Grand Rapids. It provides a little calm before things get moving with Great Lent this Sunday; and of course tomorrow we will be hosting a workshop/retreat at St. George led by Fr. George Eber—a great guy and fine priest whom I look forward to seeing. I thought I would take a couple of minutes in this little calm to look at a couple of items.

The first “agenda” item I suppose is that I am still mulling over some decisions that I have to make soon. Decisions between good and bad are easy, though I am often startled at how often we have difficulty with these simple decisions anyway. The really hard decisions are those in which we must choose between two goods. I point out in my Inquirer’s Classes that good vs. evil is melodrama; greater good vs. lesser good is real drama. It is the latter which causes us to pray very diligently. I am still praying and I ask the prayers of others to help me make a godly decision.

The second little item regards the Ordinariate of the Chair of St. Peter, established for former Anglicans in the Roman Catholic Church in the United States. It has been established and is beginning the task of forming about 35-40 former Episcopal and continuing Anglicans as Roman Catholic priests. I know several of these men—whom I think are largely fine, upstanding priests—and I understand their formation is very intense. Each week they must attend, via video with a camera that shows they are present, an all-day lecture on Saturday, and then they have about 300-400 pages to read. This will go on for six months or so.

All the while they need to keep their current community alive and nourished, as well as to help catechize and form them. Sometimes this has become quite a challenge as they have lost their buildings and other property, meeting in various places to keep their communities alive. But from what I can tell they are all quite optimistic and joyful in their new situations. I am happy of that.

The Ordinariate continues its work in trying to establish a chancery and take care of all the canonical activities necessary—which must be an amazing task given so few workers. The liturgy, however, is still something of an unknown. What the Ordinariate will ultimately have is being worked on by a small select group (not all of whom are part of either of the Ordinariates of the US or the UK) and their work is very silent. I have been told by one Catholic monk that from what he has seen so far, it appears to be a selection of  ”the greatest hits from Cranmer”, the Novus Ordo and pieces of the Extraordinary form to placate traditionalists. It will be a very hybridized liturgy. And that, I think, is a great shame.

Now why is an Orthodox priest interested in this? In part because I was an Anglican and I have many friends for whom this is part of their lives. I love them and so I am interested. Also, because our little Western Rite has since 1979 or so attracted people from Anglican backgrounds it has a direct impact on what may, or may not, be able to happen in our communities. And frankly it effects what may, or may not, be able to happen within our Eastern Rite communities as well. Many of the former Anglicans who have entered the Orthodox Church immediately became Eastern Rite rather than Western, so it is germane for all of Orthodoxy to understand what is happening and why.

If the Ordinariate is given a liturgy that is hybridized and cannot be done in a very traditional manner, then I believe there will be still be some Anglicans who will enter Orthodoxy through the Western Rite. Some will go to the Continuing Anglican movement no doubt, but it is increasingly becoming clear that that movement is essentially Protestant in orientation. That will not be attractive to Anglo-Catholics (which I was at one time). The remnants of the TAC is quickly making concordats with other Anglican bodies that express a more “Protestant Episcopal” character, and the Anglican Catholic Church, which has been declining for some time now, has now been vocally led by a handful of clergy who strongly advocate for the 39 Articles and such.

ACNA, another group which includes the former Episcopal Diocese of Fort Worth (though “former” is being fought in the Texas courts), has tried to go back to 1982 or so when each diocese in ECUSA would decide about women’s ordination for its own use. This is tragically flawed and particularly doomed I think. It is deliberately keeping the seeds which caused the destruction of ECUSA within its fold and it will only accelerate until it will be indistinguishable from the Episcopal Church. It will also take less time to reach the same point since those involved have already been there before.

For an Anglo-Catholic then, there really are only two choices: Rome or Orthodoxy. This has actually always been the case and has been said since the early 1900s. Rome has been the primary orientation because culturally Anglicans and Romans come from the same root, or more clearly, Anglicans come from Rome. It is most natural for them to look back to their own earlier history.

It is the very question of looking back though that is at the crux of the issue. If one looks back historically and culturally, then one will certainly have a Roman bias. If, however, one looks at theology, then one may develop an Orthodox bias. I say ‘may’ here because it is not certain. And yet, if one joins the Orthodox Western Rite, then the theological presumption will be Orthodox while the cultural expression and heritage will still be Roman. The latter will be manifest imperfectly of course because it can only go as far as the parish since all of our hierarchs are Eastern. It presents challenges which have not always been successfully navigated.

I don’t think there is a clear answer to any of this really. I cannot fault my friends who have made their decisions to go to Rome (I have no doubt I will be castigated for even saying such a thing). I do not fault them because I understand where they are, and I don’t think they could reasonably have become Orthodox, though I am sure we would have warmly welcomed them. They would have been very confused by the view from the ground, and I don’t think helped too much from some of the brethren.

What does seem quite clear to me, however, is that for our little Western Rite to get on good footing and begin to flourish, it must become much more regularized. It must begin to act within the Vicariate in a western manner—which is always very organized and logical—because that is part of the culture from which that liturgy has grown. The WRV must provide a theologically Orthodox community that is thoroughly Roman in culture. This stands at the heart of so many of my previous comments liturgically. There must be some gray boundaries naturally, since our hierarchs are eastern, but within the Vicariate it must breathe its own native culture or else it is entirely unauthentic.

Until late it has been possible for a community to do this, but it has been done with great effort and struggle. The lack of decisiveness in the Vicariate about many topics has lent an air that is foreign to the cultural heritage of the West, and because of that it has had destructive effects. It has also allowed, and even unwittingly promoted through this vacuum, several minds to develop as cliques that vie for dominance in the Vicariate. Sometimes these various cliques are radically opposed to one another. To enter the Vicariate takes a courageous and somewhat idealistic soul.

I see the snow is picking up now and the blanket of white is deepening. To watch it is calming and I am drawn back to thoughts of prayer and preparation for Lent. This is as it should be too. There are many thoughts and questions that run through my mind these days and I have come no closer to any resolution, but one thing I know. To one thing I cling. And that is that I need Lent. I need to empty myself before Christ so that I might see his glorious resurrection and experience that Paschal light in my soul.

(I apologize that I have not posted for a while. I intend to get back to posting at least once a week again.)

Everyone is wracked by decisions. It is one of the commonest difficulties people face. At least weekly I am called upon, as a priest, to help someone see clearly through the fog. The priest is affected no less the laic. It is truly a universal problem.

Nevertheless, we all still must make decisions. But what strikes me more and more, is that so few of us put things in proper perspective. Our goals are not correct––or are they are merely assumed and never consciously made. We desire financial prosperity (or financial comfort if not prosperity), a happy and congenial family life, good health, a good retirement plan, a nice home with nice furnishings, the list goes on. But glancing at the list we notice it’s exactly the same list as everyone else has in this world. Shouldn’t Christians have a different perspective on life? A different desire?

Our goal should always be to grow in holiness, to grow deeper in love with Christ. In fact that should be our primary goal. Sadly, it usually does not even make the top 10 for most people––even those who call themselves Christian. Our ultimate goal should be to become Saints.

This singular purpose in life should be brought to bear on all of our decisions. Robert Frost’s famous poem, The Road not Taken, from Mountain Interval, speaks about our choices in life.

“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere as ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.”

There is a romantic notion that Christians must always choose the road less traveled and then romantically mourn the loss of the other. It’s quite silly, of course, but there you are. Sometimes we must indeed take the road less traveled, but not usually. After all, marriage and raising children is common to most throughout the world, but it is also a beautiful Christian vocation. The trick is to understand the simple and seemingly common vocations for what they really are: paths to holiness and union with Christ. Christian are not asked to immediately choose the most exotic or unique path to be truly Christian.

What we are asked to do is to choose that which allows us to grow closer to Christ. Nothing else matters—not if we are truly acting like a Christian, for Christ is to be “all and in all.” Sometimes we know very clearly what the right direction and choice is and yet we can’t make it because we are paralyzed by fear of the unknown. This fear is a product of a weak faith, a failure to trust God. We could ask ourselves: Does Christ love us? Will he not supplies or needs (as distinct from our wants)? Then why should we fear any thing?

Godly decisions do not necessarily make us more successful or more splendid in the eyes of anyone in this world. Sometimes godly decisions don’t even make us popular in the Church! But are these our goals: success, respect, admiration? All decisions, all choices, all possibilities, must be resolved only on the basis of our love of Jesus Christ.

Perhaps this is ultimately the only New Year’s resolution that is worth: to resolve that every choice will be made joyfully to serve Christ and him only. How transforming such a decision would be. A parish full of parishioners whose desires are only to serve Christ and grow in holiness with him would be peaceful, energetic, and anxious to serve those outside of its own membership roles. Such of parish would be just as filled on holy days as on Sunday. Vespers services on Saturday night would find a full house. Lines for Confession would be seen every week because parishioners would desire to remove any boundary that separates themselves from our precious Lord. The parish budget would never be an issue as the parishioners would give joyfully and in abundance.

Every day we have decisions to make. I know, I have several that I must prayerfully consider even as I write these words. We can use decisions to increase our fear and anxiety, or our positions and power, or—following the truly Christian path—we can use them to catapult us into the presence of Christ. It is our choice. And I have a funny feeling that this is exactly why our Lord allows us to be presented choices and decisions day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute. We have the opportunity, regularly and persistently, to choose Christ or ourselves. We can choose heaven or hell. It really is that clear and spartan.

I hope that all of our decisions this year will be directed to the love of God, to our becoming Saints, that we may be move to love rather than apathy. I wish for everyone that they may find “that peace which passeth all understanding,” keeping our hearts and minds in the knowledge and love of God, and of his Son Jesus Christ our Lord.

Many of my friends are still Anglicans. And many of those are sitting on the edge of their seat right now waiting to hear news about the Anglicanorm cœtibus. Supposedly they will hear something tomorrow at about 3:25pm EST.

It is clear this will not be an announcement of the establishment of the American Ordinariate for Anglicans, what the exact announcement will be is anyone’s guess. But a continued period of waiting is unhelpful and spiritually unhealthy. My heart goes out to these guys–who are wonderful, solid, and pious man–as they continue their wait.

But I’m not entirely certain they will receive what they hope. Of course, they may well receive it. The lack of anything definitive is part of the problem and angst they feel.

Many of those whom I know are hoping for the old traditional Mass in English. But it seems very much that they will not be given that at all, but rather the new Mass with certain adaptations both to the traditional bent of their heritage and to their heritage as Anglicans. Where the balance will be no one knows, except perhaps those few individuals within the Curia’s bureaucracy in Rome.

I am not one who is usually inclined to conspiracy theories. And I don’t believe there is a conspiracy against the Ordinariate either. Rather, I believe that bureaucracies are largely ineffective and impersonal. They lack the ability to understand the personal dimension of those affected. And there is an effect to waiting, and waiting, and waiting. Parishes lose drive. Priests lose focus because they don’t know the direction they should point their people. Everything seems to slow down to just survival. And any time the church focuses on merely surviving its next step is the graveyard.

I do believe that the Antiochian Western Rite could provide a home for many of these men and their parishes. The use itself is clear. It has been published for many years now. One can see it, and not speculate about what might be required. And I’m inclined to think that those who desire the old Mass in good liturgical English will not find a potential home better than here.

Of course there are struggles. Who in their right mind would deny that? There are certainly those who believe the Western Rite to be little more than a switch and bait project. Perhaps it has functioned that way elsewhere (most notably in England). There have been tragic examples in the US as well, but it is not true that parishes who enter the Western Rite will ultimately be required to become Eastern. Were that true, why would St. Mark’s in Denver, or St. Augustine’s in Denver, or St. Michael’s in Whittier California still be Western Rite?

Those parishes which have changed rites have had other causes for their change of than an official program or proclamation from on high. I’ll not rehearse the sad tales here.

Yes of course, there will be struggles, but there will be struggles any place a parish is planted. The continuing church certainly has shown no stability whatsoever and it is no guarantee for an ongoing traditional “Catholic” life. I would agree that if, or rather when, the Ordinariate is established those parishes will grow faster and more materially stronger than our Western rite parishes will. But hasn’t that always been the case even between Anglo-Catholics versus Roman Catholics? The struggle is worthwhile because it strengthens our character, our will, and our vision.

But there are still many who are sitting on the fence waiting for the word to be given. They wait for the fulfillment of part of their vision and aspiration. That part is unity with the larger church Catholic. But as there is many slip twixt cup and lip, and there are many compromises and losses that will have to be embraced for unity with Rome. Each individual parish, and each individual priest must make that decision himself.

I hope the best. I desire the best. And I hope all of this comes together very quickly for the many souls affected. Tomorrow afternoon will be interesting. But if there is not at least a hint of a timetable and a genuine commitment to start the Ordinariate quickly, then the wait has only been harmful and vain because too many are losing the essential stability of their parishes and they’re very hearts to continue in this limbo.

And if that date and commitment is not forthcoming, I hope and pray my dearest of friends will look in our direction, and not shrink from the struggles and sometimes the battles. For I know that here they will find a home which they have always felt they had and desire to have completely, as well as union with the larger Chuch Catholic. The doors are open for you and I will stand ready to welcome and embrace you all.

This is a recent article I put in my parish’s monthly newsletter. I hope that it is at least somewhat edifying. I hope to have new posts soon.

We all desire order. Some of us actually need order to be able to function well at all, for example those who have ADHD. The world used to seem ordered, but now everything seems disjointed.

Take for example astronomy. In the middle ages there was a sense of balance cosmologically because using Ptolemaic astronomy there was a perception of the harmony of man’s place within the universe. Galileo correctly observed that the world wasn’t the center of the universe, but the perception of order and man’s place in the universe was obscured.

Now we have moved far beyond Newtonian physics into the realm of modern quantum physics. At the smallest level of the creation, smaller than the atom, we now understand that electrons and protons, the entire world, are made of quarks which are pulses of energy that actually disappear from existence and then come back. These pulses have order, but they also clearly point out the truth that we exist on the precipice of nothingness. Our need for stability is no longer answered by science. In fact in theoretical science it is shredded.

If science doesn’t give stability, then what about politics—many people set their hope in just such a place? Clearly politics is a sphere of constant change and struggle. The political world is not a secure arena and what our governments do (local, state and federal) seems filled with bureaucracy and inefficiency which only further frustrates our need for order and balance. The book of psalms puts it well, “Put not your trust in princes.”

Then what of churches? I encounter people from all over very regularly who tell me that they are frustrated with the seeming constant change of their church’s teachings. All of you know that I grew up an Anglican (Episcopalian) of the extreme high-church, or Anglo-Catholic, variety and I found that to be true as well. I heard Anglican bishops who denied the real physical resurrection of Christ, who denied the Virgin birth of Christ, who taught that St. Paul was a misogynistic, closet-homosexual. It is worth pointing out that most churches outside the Orthodox Church no longer teach dogmatic theology (the understanding of the teachings of the faith required to be believed), but teach systematic theology (a system of believe that can later be altered and re-worked so long as it is consistent with itself).

Since the late 19th century, biblical scholarship has almost entirely followed the skeptical German school. It dissects the scriptural texts in the attempt to discern what is historically authentic, to ascribe authorship and so forth. This approach to the scriptures has generally given birth to the loss of faith for countless people. It’s fruits are all to clear; the scriptures no longer serve to buttress the faith of millions because it is not considered reliable enough. Our intellects and prejudices are counted for more now. And since all of our intellects differ, there is nothing sound and stable left for us there.
We might mention in passing the grave scandal of clergy sexual abuse. This is usually thought of in terms of Catholic priests who are pedophiles, but it is certainly not limited to Catholic priests (and very few of them are actually abusers) or to pedophiles. The number of abusers in churches is dwarfed by those who work in public schools and such, but this isn’t talked about. I think there is an agenda here. But the damage is done and people are hurt by this.

Values are changing constantly in the culture around us, and the changes are being validated by the cultural elites (the news media, hollywood, university professors…) that this is right. They give no real hard data to support their views, but they are absolutely unwavering in their support. What has changed here? Sexual mores, couples (of whatever combination you can imagine) can live together without marriage as though they are married, the definition of what a family is has been greatly altered, the understanding of personal responsibility for oneself and one’s actions… the list is terribly long.
The list can go on and on. All of this chaos takes a toll on our lives personally and culturally. Our world is populated with people who are frighteningly anxious and depressed. Currently there are more people in history that are on anti-depressants and anti-anxiety medications than ever before. We are not very happy people and much of this is because there seems to be discord and pandemonium around us.

But there is hope in all of this bedlam, because behind each quark, each expression of reality there is still the corner-stone. It has not shifted nor cracked; it is Jesus Christ. Man is still the focus of his love and actions. We still stand at the center of the universe in the eyes of God himself; science is answered. He still has established his Kingdom in our midst which is ultimately governed by him and his love; politics are made superfluous. He revealed himself as the Way, the Light and the Truth… from all eternity. He is the same yesterday, today and forever; so modern liberal skeptical churches are put down and shown to be bankrupt. He continues to act through broken men who are his priests to give his life and grace; our shattered confidence is healed for we learn to follow their guidance faithfully, but not to imitate their own brokenness.

While the world seems to be without order and anarchy, Christ himself is the source of the order that we desperately need. The answer to the fear of this world and its seeming meaninglessness is only resolved in perfect communion with Christ our God through his Church. Here is stability and joy.

It is my hope that we can all learn to find the peace of Christ even in this topsy-turvy world, that we can live calm, quiet and humble lives that allow for that peace to soak into every pore of our souls and beings. I know that Christ wishes to give this to us. I know that finding order and harmony will give us the ability to respond to the darkness and uncertainties we face in our own lives—many of which are very difficult indeed.

Begin by trying to see this order and stability. Continue by asking Christ to establish it in your heart. Constantly struggle to plant it in all that you do and see around you until at long last it has become a habit to see the light and joy of Christ in all things.

I’ll never forget the first time I experienced it. I wasn’t offended, but I was baffled a little bit. I hadn’t seen it before. I hadn’t even really heard of it before. Before I spill the beans about what “it” is, let me give a little more background.

It is pretty well known that I matured as an ardent high-church Anglo Catholic. Solemn High Mass spoke to me profoundly. But as a young boy I had never seen a high-church service. Heck, I was then in the Episcopal Diocese of Texas (in Waco) and there wasn’t anything such thing as a real thorough going high-church place. In 1972 we (daddy, my brother and I) moved to Cleburne, Texas into the Diocese of Dallas. Cleburne was a moderate parish but that suited the place. It was the county seat of Johnson County which was supported largely by cattle ranchers and the Sante Fe railroad. It was a quiet, stayed, conservative place. Traditional conservative religion in the Bible belt is not going to be high-church.

In 1975 we lapsed from the Episcopal Church because of the craziness going on, including the new BCP. Just after I had graduated from high school I was working at Mama’s Pizza in Burleson, Texas with one of my classmates. One night we were discussing religion and I found that he was part of a conservative Episcopal parish. I asked if he could take me there one Sunday. Our trips to Mass on Sundays and Holy Days became regular.

So it was that I experienced incense for the first time. I liked the smell of it but didn’t understand it. After about three weeks or so I found that I loved it and the first thing I learned to do in the altar was serve as a thurifer. The smoke gently curling around my arm and face was captivating. Perhaps it’s because guys love the thought of playing with fire—and being in control. The smell quickly became associated with prayer and the worship of God.

The more I learned about it the more fascinating it became. The incredible variety of “flavors” available is marvelous. Western incense is usually in smaller little grains that are maturated with various essences, oils and such. It is so very simple to use in this form. The very common Orthodox incense tends to be little squares that are coated with white clay powder. This is generally called “athonite” incense and it is available in floral types or spicy types and so forth. Many of the Orthodox suppliers have as many as 40 different fragrances.

Far eastern incense is altogether different, commonly sold stuck to a stick or in a little cone that one lights. Truth be told I’ve never cared for that sort of incense at all. But church incense… it just sends me.

That gets me in trouble sometimes because I love to use it and there are some people who say that they can’t breathe because of the incense. They complain of headaches and such. I’m sure that they suffer them, but I wonder how much of the time this is psychosomatic and stems from a Protestant aversion in reality. But I don’t know. I just know that I, like my mentor, love to put it on.

Okay, I know this isn’t a heavy post. But …I love incense.