Monday, September 23, 2013

Maybe It's Not Quite Nordstroms

Taking out the two Shockapoos in the morning gets to be an ordeal.  No amount of coaxing and prodding and treats will hurry along the reason for being outside. They take their good-natured time.  But I take advantage of that time waiting for each of them to complete their business and I imagine what it might be like if they were human.  SoNya and MeeAh are getting older, 13 and 11 respectively, and I liken the morning experience to taking aging aunties on a little adventure.

SoNya and MeeAh are aunties who may be from the countryside but they are both very proper and appreciate the finer things.  Their nephew and his wife dote on the two ladies who now live together.  Nephew and wife have offered to take the aunties on a day trip to the city to do shopping at the magical and wondrous department store. At noon they would have a fancy lunch in the Terrace Room with a panorama of the city. 

Auntie SoNya and Auntie MeeAh spent their first hour and a half perusing the various departments of the story.  They admired the pretty dishes in housewares.  They sat on the sofas in the furniture department. They spritzed numerous samples of cologne on each other at the fragrance counter. Then, they were most delighted to see the latest styles and colors in women’s wear.  SoNya and MeeAh may live at the end of a long road, a bit far from town, but, it does not stop their desire for fashion and class.  Nephew and his wife stood back smiling at the chatter going on between the sisters.  Oh, there were a few snarls between the two but, they are sisters after all.  The snarls are short-lived and turn into chuckles.

After the window shopping portion of the city expedition, Nephew and his wife suggest they think about lunch.  Before lunch, why not make a visit to the restroom? The aunties agreed it would be a wise choice.  Nephew’s wife accompanied the sisters to a restroom they called “opulent.”  There in the restroom we see the real parallel to their canine complements.

SoNya and MeeAh entered the lounge and breathed in a pleasant scent.  They both sniffed the air and wondered what type of potpourri they had in the bowls.  They sought out the source of the grassy aroma, took a deeper whiff and smiled with pleasure.  SoNya said to her sister, “MeeAh, look at the color on these two walls. What would that look like in our bathroom?”

“It’s too garish.  But I do like the artwork on the wall.  I love the look of trees in a bathroom,” replied MeeAh.  “It’s just so natural.”

Nephew’s wife could hardly keep from laughing at the two.  “MeeAh? What do you think of those window treatments?”

“They are just stunning. The pattern is just marvelous.”

“MeeAh, look over there.  There’s even a computer monitor.  Just a second.  I want to check my p-mail.”  With that SoNya became engrossed with an abundance of messages.  MeeAh busied herself primping in the mirror and checking her nails.

Age has had a way of affecting the two sisters.  They are observant and very verbal but memory has a way of fading.  To Nephew’s wife SoNya asked, “now what are we doing in this department?”

Without judgment and sounding like the department store hostess she said, “This is the ladies’ room, Aunties.  Maybe you would like to go into the stall and try to piddle.”

“Oh, that would be delightful.  Then, after lunch I saw some pantsuits-or whatever they call them now.  I would like to try them on.”


So, I return from my musings and try to shepherd our two doggies to their special corner of the yard.  Instead of carrying a stylish shopping bag with a chic logo, I walk behind SoNya, the dowager queen, and MeeAh, the pretender to the throne, with a black plastic bag that says, dogpoopbags.com.

Tuesday, September 3, 2013

Why I Will Never Be A Bishop


The South-Central Synod of Wisconsin where I am rostered will be having an election for bishop at the end of this month.  I do not need to go into details for the reason the election will be in September.  When I was in seminary, my New Testament professor, Peter Kjeseth, dubbed me “Bishop Schaub.”  I went through the remainder of seminary known as "Bishop."  Some classmates thought that was proleptic.  After 35 years of ministry I know that I will never be a bishop.  Here are a few reasons why.

  • I don’t play the game.  Meaning, I am not one to schmooze the pastors I do not know very well.  I was in my first congregation for 9 years and my second congregation for 17 years.  I wasn’t in circulation from one side of the synod to the other.  Having had four interim positions outside of the synod also reduced my visibility.  In other words, I am not one of the shakers and movers of the synod.  That may be a good thing.  If I were political, it would be a bad thing.
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  • I say what I think.  I never learned that skill to keep my thoughts to myself and to carry on a conversation without saying what I really felt.  I just think that is being deceptive.  If I were a bishop and thought a congregation was being mean and stupid, I probably would blurt it out.  If a pastor was a dumb twit and told the pastor what I thought, the man or woman would probably end up in therapy.
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  • I don’t like to over-think things.  Sure, I will analyze and synthesize but, golly gee-whiz, some people just exhaust me with all the woulda, coulda, shoulda’s about issues.  When those conversations begin, that is when I go get coffee.
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  • I am too big and fat to comfortably sit in an airplane and bishops have to do a lot of flying.
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  • Other than doing a cannonball during pool time at the Council of Bishops, I am not one for making a big splash.  I am probably a little too low-key to be a bishop.  Among the bishops of the ELCA I know that there are many who are faithful and humble.  I can also guess there are some big egos.
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  • Bishops end up with churchwide responsibilities that take them away from home several nights a month. I would prefer to be a bishop to take care of things in the synod.  The presiding bishop might not like it if I told her, “Sorry, I can’t attend February’s committee meeting in Arizona.  I have to say grace at St. John’s-Leland chili supper.”
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  • Synod office is too close to Culver’s.  I would be tempted to do quality control on their Flavors of the Day.
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  • If I were bishop after a week of talking down irate members angry at their pastor, conservative crack-pots declaring we Lutherans are apostates because of our social stance, and taking personal blame for budget short-falls, I would want to take off for the weekend.  Not gonna happen.



If any of my readers are voting members of the synod assembly let me ask that they do not write down my name on that first ballot. Let me be a steady-Eddie interim pastor someplace not too far from home so I can sleep in my own bed.