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        <rss:title>Dean's Blog</rss:title>
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        <rss:description>Contemplation from the Angle</rss:description>
        

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        <rss:title>Dean's Blog</rss:title>
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    <rss:item rdf:about="http://www.allsoulscathedral.org/blog/archive/2008/05/23/the-heart-of-a-mother-with-a-p-s">

        <rss:title>The Heart of a Mother- with a p.s.</rss:title>

        <rss:link>http://www.allsoulscathedral.org/blog/archive/2008/05/23/the-heart-of-a-mother-with-a-p-s</rss:link>       

        <rss:description>I saw my mother's heart last week.  It was in the consult room of the cardiologist's office.

(editor- this was to be added on the 12th of May and my human error came into play- forgive its tardiness)</rss:description>

        <content:encoded>
          <![CDATA[
          
&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    Mom had been experiencing
fatigue in recent months.  “I began
taking the elevator to my workout classes because the steps got me too winded,”
she said.  The films showed 90% blockage
in three arteries.  Mom is not one to let
life slow her down.  Good German stock in
her.  “We need to address this,” the
cardiologist said pointing out the blockage, “other than this, her heart it
good.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;          It is a
strange thing to watch your mother’s heart at work.  The pumping, the coursing of the blood, the
steady beat that has been providing her life for… ah, well, it would be
indelicate to tell you her age.  As I
looked at the moving picture of her heart, I began to think about this woman
who has been the source of my life and that of my three siblings.  Later I found myself looking at my hands and
the blood running through them.  These
hands, this blood had their origin in her. 
For nine months her blood and mine were the same.  My flesh is the product of hers.  How do you comprehend that closeness?&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;          I continued
to think of her presence in our growing up. 
This is the one who took you to kindergarten for the first time and let
you go.  She was the one who, with movie
camera in hand, insisted on the first day of each new school year that we
parade in front of our house with a sign displaying our new grade level.  We flashed the look that said, “Come on mom,
my friends are going to see me!”  I love
those movies.  She was the one who held
her boys when a tragic event entered their lives, acknowledging that tears were
appropriate for men.  She was the one who
told my sister that a woman’s place was at the table, the board room table, as
they say.  She is the one who taught us
to dream and to believe.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;          This woman
knows when to be gentle and firm.  One particular
spring college semester when I had sampled a bit too much of the abundance
available at the University
 of Georgia, mom, reading
my grades said, “Son, we expect you to get a well rounded education, just not
this well rounded.”  There were further
words about financial support or lack thereof if this continued.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;          Mom is
someone you can call when you’ve had a great day.  She really wants to hear about it.  This might seem braggadocios to some, but not
mom.  She delights in other people’s joy.  I recall a day when with distress she told me
of a friend’s child whose marriage was not doing well.  “They don’t seem able to enjoy each other’s
successes.”  For mom, that is paramount
for a joyous life; the ability to take pleasure in the happiness, the accomplishments
of others.  It brings richness to her
life when she sees others finding theirs.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;          She is one you
can call when things are confounding or frightening.  You always have a listening ear and while her
German stock is screaming to tell you just what you need, she is able to
marshal it so you get there on your own. 
Well, most of the time.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;          It is not as
if mom hasn’t seen challenge in life.  I
know the stories of growing up in the Great Depression and the things they did
to get by.  Her older sister, with whom
she walked to school each day for almost a decade, died when she was 13.  The man she hoped to marry went off to war
and was MIA/POW for four months before returning home.  There have been other chapters of challenge and
tragedy in her life.  She also likes to
remind us that she raised us four during the 1960’s when all kinds of rules
were up for grabs.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;          I write this
as my mother’s heart is being worked on by a team of physicians and specialists
who have dedicated their lives to the continued life of people like mom.  Their joy is the health and success of her
heart.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    "We have to address this," the cardiologist said, "other than this, her heart is good."  He didn't have to tell me it was good.  I already knew. I have been her son for 51 years.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Todd Donatelli&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;p.s. Mom's surgery was the Tuesday after Easter.  She is recovering very well and was told today by her doctor that she could take a planned trip to Paris this summer- no slowing her down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
          ]]>
        </content:encoded>        

        <dc:date>2008-05-23T11:46:11-04:00</dc:date>

        <dc:modified>2008-05-23T11:46:11-04:00</dc:modified>

        <dc:creator>Todd Donatelli</dc:creator>

        
    </rss:item>

    
    <rss:item rdf:about="http://www.allsoulscathedral.org/blog/archive/2008/05/23/pilgrimage-for-its-own-sake">

        <rss:title>Pilgrimage: for its own sake</rss:title>

        <rss:link>http://www.allsoulscathedral.org/blog/archive/2008/05/23/pilgrimage-for-its-own-sake</rss:link>       

        <rss:description>As a spiritual community, we are called to go into those places from which people think they will not survive.</rss:description>

        <content:encoded>
          <![CDATA[
          
&lt;p&gt;    From the Exodus to the Prophets, Jesus to the early church, from Dorothy Day to Martin Luther King, Jr., people of faith have listened to calls from the Sacred One and wondered if they in any way would survive that through which they were being led.  And in some ways they did not, and in other ways they were more than they were before they began the sojourn.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    Whether following a calling outward or inward, a tangible trip to some place or the inner searchings done in one's 'prayer closet', there is truth that we will not emerge the same.  Something always dies and something else is reborn.  That is the witness of the scriptures and the inheritance of our tradition.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    It is why we use water in baptism (why the Orthodox symbol of immersing infants in water says much more loudly what we proclaim), the reminder that something is immersed and something else emerges and we have no control over what is shaken loose and what is connected. It is something to which we submit.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    A spiritual community must always be about this rhythm of offering, of  wondering what will survive and what will emerge, of knowing it will face that from which it will not survive intact.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    I think about this as I prepare for my upcoming sabbatical.  I am taking to heart the words of T.S. Elliot in "Little Giddings", "You are not here to verify, instruct yourself or inform curiosity or carry report.  You are here to kneel where prayer has been valid."  It is counter cultural not to go and 'collect trinkets', symbols of saying 'I was there', 'have notched this experience'- the proverbial, 'been there, done that'.  It seems consumption can  certainly affect the places we go.  What does it take to go simply to be present for what is there?  I hope to find out- Taize, Coventry, Belgium/my father's battle ground, the Louvre- what spirits are awaiting to tell me what only they can?  What will need to be broken in me, what will not survive, be burned away?  What will emerge that only this sojourn can generate?&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    I think about this as we prepare for the upcoming Lambeth gathering of Anglican Bishops in July.  Who is going there 'to die'?  Perhaps many wonder if they will survive, but not necessarily in the manner of the forebearers listed above.  I pray for all the bishops that they may see this as a pilgrimage to 'Jerusalem', a place where they indeed will not survive intact, yet may be reborn in a way none could countenance.  I trust there are many who are indeed going with this deep sense.  For them we can be deeply grateful.  I encourage your regular prayers for all bishops.  I pray that in this we may be reborn as a communion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    I think about this as we go about our common life at All Souls.  Where are we being called in such a way that survival, spiritual, emotional, is a real question?  Where might we be going, what path, through which we will indeed not emerge the same?  That is our water mark, this survival question, that tells us if it is a journey of Jesus.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    As I prepare to leave I am flooded with many emotions- immense gratitude for you all, for your faithfulness, for your generosity of spirit, for your wishes regarding this time away; as well for how each of us will not be the same in several months.  Some things will have been lost, let go, and others will have emerged.  How will we look?&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    I am also filled with an awe, a wondering, of what is before us.  Which circles back to baptism, "Give them a sense of awe and wonder in all your works."  May these months be a time not of verifying, making quick and certain report, but of simply kneeling where prayer has been valid.  For pilgrims have gone this way before and their spirits await us.  May we gather with them and listen.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Todd  Donatelli &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;

          ]]>
        </content:encoded>        

        <dc:date>2008-05-23T11:42:30-04:00</dc:date>

        <dc:modified>2008-05-23T11:42:30-04:00</dc:modified>

        <dc:creator>Todd Donatelli</dc:creator>

        
    </rss:item>

    
    <rss:item rdf:about="http://www.allsoulscathedral.org/blog/archive/2008/05/02/have-we-gotten-it-wrong-on-reverend-wright">

        <rss:title>Have we gotten it wrong on Reverend Wright?</rss:title>

        <rss:link>http://www.allsoulscathedral.org/blog/archive/2008/05/02/have-we-gotten-it-wrong-on-reverend-wright</rss:link>       

        <rss:description>"Your original sin is slavery."</rss:description>

        <content:encoded>
          <![CDATA[
          
&lt;p&gt;    It was an episode from the TV series 'West Wing'.  A British envoy who regularly suffered from haughtiness and a few too many drinks is talking to a White House staffer about a haunting aspect of England's history.  He follows by saying, "Your (America's) original sin is slavery." - suggesting it (slavery)  is something we are forever marked by and from which we may never find absolution.  Watching the news these past weeks, I wonder if  he is right about both aspects- how it has marked us and our inability to find absolution.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    After the clips of Reverend Wright began playing regularly on the 24 hour news channels, Barak Obama gave a speech on race that very few folks could have.  From a mixed race family he spoke of various aspects of how race has lived out in us: fear, hatred, hurt, weariness, suspicion, oppression, entitlement and many more.  And he held up the reality that none are totally innocent and all may in different ways have been targeted, stereotyped and affected by the actions of the 'other'.  It offered a base from which we could speak, a history that did not inherently claim total victim status for any group nor claim total blame for any group. Perhaps we had a window to talk in a way that did not automatically draw lines and put anyone on the defensive as the certain good or bad guys. Perhaps we had a window to look, all of us, at ourselves and whatever part we played and the affects we all experience, black and white, in all of the manifestations of this insidious reality.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    Instead we have spent weeks of news coverage not talking about the issues raised by the Senator and our part in them.  We did the cowardly thing of finding a scapegoat- ah, Reverend Wright.  As long as we can say he is bad, then it follows that we can say we are good, or at least not as bad as him.  Don Henley once penned a song about a preacher and his congregation: "they loved it when he told them they were better than the rest."  Once again we have traded in a birth right of learning to find redemption for the warm meal of castigation and tar splashing.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    When will we become brave enough to leave behind distractions so we can find the life that is ours?  Why is Reverend Wright worthy of two weeks of news coverage when today thousands upon thousands of kids will go to sleep malnourished, AIDS is removing a whole generation of parents on another continent, working Americans are loosing their houses in record numbers, fifty percent of black men in American cities do not finish high school, an obscene amount of those same men are housed in prisons, and no one on the globe seems to have the energy to stop the slaughtering in Darfur?&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    "Let the dead bury the dead."  "Take no purse or staff for the journey."  "Go sell all you have."  "I must go to Jerusalem."  "One does not live on bread alone."  "You shall love the Lord your God with all you heart, and all your soul, and with all your strength and love your neighbor as yourself."  These are the responses of Jesus to the siren songs of distraction.  Responses to those who offered him an out for anything painful or difficult, anything demanding maturity.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    This is not a defense of Reverend Wright or an endorsement of any candidacy- that wondering in itself is a distraction from a significant conversation for which we still yearn 'in groans too deep for words.'  May we one day find the courage to trust there is One who can lead all of us to the Promised Land of racial reconciliation. It is a path that begins in the wilderness and ends at a banquet.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Todd Donatelli&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;

          ]]>
        </content:encoded>        

        <dc:date>2008-05-02T08:29:09-04:00</dc:date>

        <dc:modified>2008-05-02T11:00:25-04:00</dc:modified>

        <dc:creator>Todd Donatelli</dc:creator>

        
            <dc:subject>wright</dc:subject>
        
        
            <dc:subject>race</dc:subject>
        
        
            <dc:subject>slavery</dc:subject>
        
        
            <dc:subject>obama</dc:subject>
        

    </rss:item>

    
    <rss:item rdf:about="http://www.allsoulscathedral.org/blog/archive/2008/04/24/watching-the-color-change">

        <rss:title>Watching the color change</rss:title>

        <rss:link>http://www.allsoulscathedral.org/blog/archive/2008/04/24/watching-the-color-change</rss:link>       

        <rss:description>I have come to love watching the green of the mountain trees make its way through crooks and up the elevations during this time of year.  It is a several week trek whose show reminds me of how life courses where and as it will.</rss:description>

        <content:encoded>
          <![CDATA[
          
&lt;p&gt;    I studied enough science to appreciate the effect of warmth both in protected places (the crooks) and over elevations to understand why this progression moves as it does.  And it conveys a reality that life moves where it will and when it will and there is only so much we can do to force it.  In fact, impatience seems to be one of our cardinal sins- as the girl in Willie Wonka says to her father, "I want it NOW daddy!"&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    The gift of age seems to be both the growing understanding of the limitedness of time and yet a better patience with life overall.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    Each year I watch as my garden comes back in its time, each planting revealing its idea of life for this coming year- some have spread, some have retreated (never due to my ability as a gardener of course), and some may have even disappeared.  And it returns on its schedule.  The various blooms have come to set frames for the year:  there is the shrub given to me on the occasion of my father's death that blooms each year on the week of his birthday, there are the rhododendrons that mark the coming end of the school year and the lilies that celebrate its ending (big in a house with students and a teacher).  The sunflowers hold up the summer until the pumpkin vines provide the markers of fall.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    I suppose among the many reasons I work this garden is because it reminds me again and again to stop, know the season, and listen to it as much as try to tell it what to do.  Sometimes I wonder if I have enough time to do it justice and it reminds me how foolish a consideration that is- ie. I am too busy to make engagement with this garden, something that regenerates me so much, a part of my regular routine.  I think this is the way with many things, seeing them as 'in the way' of our lives instead of 'the way' to our lives.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    So I will continue to watch the green and listen to its sermon.  I will accept the reality of pollen and its nuisance if life is to regenerate.  And in doing so, perhaps the life I rush to find will be revealed as always being here, seen or unseen.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;Todd Donatelli&lt;br /&gt;
          ]]>
        </content:encoded>        

        <dc:date>2008-04-24T16:00:12-04:00</dc:date>

        <dc:modified>2008-04-24T16:00:12-04:00</dc:modified>

        <dc:creator>Todd Donatelli</dc:creator>

        
    </rss:item>

    
    <rss:item rdf:about="http://www.allsoulscathedral.org/blog/archive/2008/04/08/pray-for-me">

        <rss:title>"Pray for me."</rss:title>

        <rss:link>http://www.allsoulscathedral.org/blog/archive/2008/04/08/pray-for-me</rss:link>       

        <rss:description>Sitting in Christ Cathedral, New Orleans on the 40th anniversary of the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., Becky and I listened to a concert of spirituals offered by trumpeter Irvin Mayfield and a host of his musical friends.  One of the most significant moments for me was a hymn whose lyrics include the phrase, "Pray for me."
What effect might it have on our souls and on the soul of the world if this were part of our regular salutations to one another?</rss:description>

        <content:encoded>
          <![CDATA[
          
&lt;p&gt;     The lyrics and tune, not to mention the incredible interpretation of Irvin and his fellow players, made my heart stir and my imagination flow.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    What does it take for us to ask others to 'pray for me'? A certain humility, an inherent recognition that there is much in me needing completion, connection, restoration and things which only God knows; and that these are things which require more than just my good intention.  It suggests a very healthy humility: I am not complete, I am not where I wish to be, and yet have deep hope that in God I will be; and that I am in some way already tasting where I wish to be simply through my hunger for it.  It is like Merton's appeal to God, "...the fact that I think I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe the desire to please you does in fact please you."&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    'Pray for me...' is found in our Rite of Reconciliation where the priest says to the person coming for confession and absolution, 'Pray for me, a sinner."  It reminds that all need prayer, all are incomplete, all need restoration, even those who in the name of the Church are able to declare absolution.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    How might that phrase change public discourse?  How might that affect the current 'unhappy divisions' in the church?  How might that change congregations and the way we relate to each other- all of us seeing ourselves as incomplete persons in need of divine filling and connection- all of us recognizing in a healthy way, not a condescending way, that every last one of us is incomplete? How might it buffer any sense of certainty that leads us to uncharitable judgments of others?  How might it buffer any sense we clutch that our lives, our thoughts, are somehow inherently better than any other person, inherently more right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    As I listened to these men play, I heard their souls wrapped and released in the music and lyrics.  I heard their passionate appeal that we pray for them and that we find the freedom that can only be found in such an appeal.  I hoped that in my applause they heard my response, 'Please, pray for me also."&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Todd Donatelli&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;

          ]]>
        </content:encoded>        

        <dc:date>2008-04-08T09:33:34-04:00</dc:date>

        <dc:modified>2008-04-08T09:33:34-04:00</dc:modified>

        <dc:creator>Todd Donatelli</dc:creator>

        
    </rss:item>

    
    <rss:item rdf:about="http://www.allsoulscathedral.org/blog/archive/2008/04/02/gratitude">

        <rss:title>Gratitude</rss:title>

        <rss:link>http://www.allsoulscathedral.org/blog/archive/2008/04/02/gratitude</rss:link>       

        <rss:description>"We give you utmost thanks and praise..."</rss:description>

        <content:encoded>
          <![CDATA[
          
&lt;p&gt;    This is a line from our Prayer Book expressing our gratefulness and thanksgiving for God and God's life given to us.  With due respect to the Holy One and with, I believe, God's permission, I would like to use it to express my gratitude for this community during the past couple of weeks.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    As many of you know, my mother learned on the Wednesday of Holy Week that she would need bypass surgery which was scheduled for Tuesday after Easter Day.  There is no way to express how much we, my mother, my family and I, felt the prayers, care and love of this community during this time.  Notes, calls, hugs, visits and respecting the space mom also needed for surgery and recovery- these were all phenomenal.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    I mentioned Sunday that we as the clergy of this community are often invited into the most significant pastoral moments in your lives.  To be on the other side of this was a harrowing yet 'not without hope' experience.  I am not sure I can say that better- meaning, you are shaken to your bones (surgery, especially heart surgery, is only routine when someone else is having it) and yet know and experience yourself to be surrounded by a community who holds you up when you are facing those most basic of human moments.  This is one of those 'thin places'.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    It makes me that much more grateful for all that this community strives to be and how it chooses to live.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    I am also grateful that as this community has gotten to know my mother, she is less known as the Dean's mom and I am more known as Audrey's son- that is, she is known as her own person (not that I have ever lived under the dillusion it would be anything but!).  On behalf of Audrey's son, Audrey and my other siblings, thank you for your graciousness.  Oh, and continue to pray for mom's patience in recovery!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Peace,&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Todd Donatelli&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;

          ]]>
        </content:encoded>        

        <dc:date>2008-04-02T13:41:21-04:00</dc:date>

        <dc:modified>2008-04-02T13:41:21-04:00</dc:modified>

        <dc:creator>Todd Donatelli</dc:creator>

        
    </rss:item>

    
    <rss:item rdf:about="http://www.allsoulscathedral.org/blog/archive/2008/03/20/good-friday">

        <rss:title>Good Friday</rss:title>

        <rss:link>http://www.allsoulscathedral.org/blog/archive/2008/03/20/good-friday</rss:link>       

        <rss:description>"Almighty God, we pray you graciously to behold this your family, for whom our Lord Jesus Christ was willing to be betrayed, and given into the hands of sinners, and to suffer death upon the cross; who now lives with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen."  Collect for Good Friday, Book of Common Prayer 1976</rss:description>

        <content:encoded>
          <![CDATA[
          
&lt;p&gt;    Of all the collects in our Prayer Book, (52 Sundays and a myriad of seasonal days, Saint days and various occasions), this is the only one that does not ask for God to assist us with some particular action.  All we ask is for God to 'behold' us.  Curious.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    Do we ask as if we think God has forgotten us?  Obviously not.  I believe the crafters of this prayer understood something about us and God on this particular day.  This is not one more day in the calendar. It is different even from all the other special days.  It is a day of absence.  It is a day when the One who has walked with and talked with his friends, and us through them, is gone.  We understand this requires something different from us.  We are alone, the day has gone dark and all, save a few brave souls, have run to hide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    Growing up in the Midwest we knew that when the sky changed color mid day, it was time to run for shelter.  Only the foolish stay to watch.  "Be fools for Jesus" Paul exhorts.  So today we stay and watch when others, perhaps following 'prudence', run for shelter.  We stand amid the changing skies and ominous winds.  We hold when the ground and atmosphere shift.  And we ask God to behold us as we seek to remain.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    Behold us dear God, as we seek to hold fast.  Behold us who seek to believe you are here, somewhere, even if we can't see, feel or find you anywhere.  Behold us when we sit with friends whose world is disintegrating.  Behold us when those who have been our pillars disappear.  Behold us when the things we thought to be moorings have shifted beneath our feet.  Behold us when our hearts become vacant.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    And God does.  We proclaim that God understands this moment and does not judge us for experiencing absence.  Indeed, only the foolish or mindless would deny this as a part of life.  Even God understands that.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;      So we ask not for deliverance from this day, or for any action in this moment.  We simply ask that God is mindful of us, beholding us, seeing our desire to be faithful when there is nothing apparent to comfort or give courage. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    And we believe the Divine One does.  We believe the Holy One sees us and understands what it takes to remain this day, in this moment.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Todd Donatelli&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;

          ]]>
        </content:encoded>        

        <dc:date>2008-03-20T20:55:56-04:00</dc:date>

        <dc:modified>2008-03-20T20:55:56-04:00</dc:modified>

        <dc:creator>Todd Donatelli</dc:creator>

        
    </rss:item>

    
    <rss:item rdf:about="http://www.allsoulscathedral.org/blog/archive/2008/03/20/maundy-thursday-a-towel">

        <rss:title>Maundy Thursday: The towel</rss:title>

        <rss:link>http://www.allsoulscathedral.org/blog/archive/2008/03/20/maundy-thursday-a-towel</rss:link>       

        <rss:description>The Golden Bear Pancake House could be considered an upscale IHOP.  In addition to killer pancakes, waffles and omelets, you could get burgers, steaks, salads and some remarkable deserts.  I was the busboy who made certain your table had no stray drops of syrup from a prior customer. </rss:description>

        <content:encoded>
          <![CDATA[
          
&lt;p&gt;    Perhaps the most essential tool for a busboy is not the bin for plates and utensils, it is your towel.  Damp enough to clean, but not so wet you leave streaks.  Regularly replaced so as to not leave any elements from a prior table.  Large enough to cover much area and not so large as to be cumbersome.  In ecclesiastical terms, you could say it was the preeminent symbol of our craft.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    I am wondering if it is not the true primary symbol of the Christian faith.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    Jesus knows things are getting dark. He has been warned about his life many times and nothing seen in Jerusalem this week has changed that sensibility.  He sees the bristle in the eyes of those at the Temple and the shifting glances of others.  He wonders how many more times he can slip out of a mob wishing his demise.   How many more nights will he get to sit at table with his friends?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    And so on this night he decides to do something different.  Amid his words he is led to show them what he has been trying to say.  He goes into another room, looks around and sees it: the towel.  Removing his usual cloak he is dressed like a busboy, a servant.  He begins washing their feet.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    Was he thinking of Mary's gesture to him, maybe not in a burial preparation sense, but the intimacy of attending to another's feet?  Was he recalling how deeply touched he was by her attention to him?  Was he thinking of some of the excess of the temple, things that perhaps held a certain 'siren song' even for him?  Maybe he recalled how the angels had come to him in the wilderness.  Perhaps it was the consolation of God found on many a dark night.  Was he simply out of words; knowing there was only so much the words could convey?  See this towel?  It is what you need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    How different might the church be if instead of using the cross as our processional calling card, we used a towel?&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Blessed Maundy Thursday&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Todd Donatelli&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;

          ]]>
        </content:encoded>        

        <dc:date>2008-03-20T07:58:06-04:00</dc:date>

        <dc:modified>2008-03-20T07:58:06-04:00</dc:modified>

        <dc:creator>Todd Donatelli</dc:creator>

        
    </rss:item>

    
    <rss:item rdf:about="http://www.allsoulscathedral.org/blog/archive/2008/03/19/wednesday-in-holy-week-night">

        <rss:title>Wednesday in Holy Week: Night</rss:title>

        <rss:link>http://www.allsoulscathedral.org/blog/archive/2008/03/19/wednesday-in-holy-week-night</rss:link>       

        <rss:description>"Jesus said to Judas, "Do quickly what you are going to do."  Now no one at the table knew why he said this to him. Judas immediately went out.  And it was night."  John 13</rss:description>

        <content:encoded>
          <![CDATA[
          
&lt;p&gt;    I had never been in such utter darkness; I could not even see my hand and though I heard the others with me, I could not make out any motion or appearance of any kind.  It was an adolescent male testing thing.  To prove you were 'a man' meant walking into the basement of the abandoned VA Hospital off Peachtree Street in Atlanta in the dark of night.  We walked down several floors with flashlights and at a certain point they were turned off and one had to prove they were not scared to walk in the darkness.  God truly watches over fools and adolescent boys or is that redundant.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    And what I recall is the sensation of total inability to see- nothing.  Was I scared?  Let's just say I was glad to know I was with a group.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    I much prefer the interpretations of Judas that show a conflicted person, not simply the quintessential bad person.  I am more like that.  Neither totally depraved, nor pure as the driven snow when it comes to fears and motives.  I often think I am acting in the best interest of all while trying to force outcomes.  Who knows what was going through Judas' head. Was he the greedy one some have tried to portray- only interested in himself?  Was he the zealot of 'The Last Temptation', convinced of what he thought God wanted Jesus to do, willing to force Jesus to 'do good'?  I do not know, but John tells us he walked into the night.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    I don't have to wait until dark to walk into night.  There are many occasions when I am too aware of what I can't see: how the future will turn out for a family in anguish over a child, how the future will turn out in a debate of which I am part- and my willingness to try and make the group do the 'good' I am convinced God wants.  Times when I or a member of my family needs some medical attention and I have no idea where and what may happen (it is only 'routine' when it is not you receiving it).  I know the sensation of night.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    Jesus doesn't make it any better. After Judas leaves he says to the others, "You will seek me... where I am going you can not come.  A new commandment I  give you, that you love one another; even as I have loved you."  Jesus don't leave me in the dark.  You are leaving, and your parting words are that we love one another as you have loved us.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    The shadows of the week are creeping in and we must keep on walking.  Our guide: Love for one another.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Blessed Wednesday of Holy Week&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Todd Donatelli&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;

          ]]>
        </content:encoded>        

        <dc:date>2008-03-19T08:15:51-04:00</dc:date>

        <dc:modified>2008-03-19T08:15:51-04:00</dc:modified>

        <dc:creator>Todd Donatelli</dc:creator>

        
    </rss:item>

    
    <rss:item rdf:about="http://www.allsoulscathedral.org/blog/archive/2008/03/18/tuesday-in-holy-week-dark-to-light-bondage-to-free">

        <rss:title>Tuesday in Holy Week: Dark to Light, Bondage to Freedom</rss:title>

        <rss:link>http://www.allsoulscathedral.org/blog/archive/2008/03/18/tuesday-in-holy-week-dark-to-light-bondage-to-free</rss:link>       

        <rss:description>"I have come as light into the world, that whoever believes in me may not remain in darkness." John 12     


As I listen to Jesus in the twelfth chapter of John, I hear a certain anguish in his voice.

</rss:description>

        <content:encoded>
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&lt;p&gt;    "Not only our ancestors alone did the Holy One redeem, but us as well, along with them, as it is written: "And God freed us from Egypt... Therefore, let us rejoice at the wonder of our deliverance: from bondage to freedom, from agony to joy, from mourning to festivity, from darkness to light, from servitude to redemption."  The Passover Haggadah&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    As I listen to Jesus in the twelfth chapter of John, I hear a certain anguish in his voice.  Perhaps it is just me, yet I hear a desperation, perhaps an exasperation: God is one who yearns to free us, yearns to lead us to a place of light and lightness, to a place of interior and exterior festivity and celebration.  Jesus' anguish may come from seeing how fear holds back the celebration.  "Many even of the authorities believed in Jesus, yet for fear they did not confess it."&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    Freedom?  light?  they sound great, but the consequence from the Temple authorities is too much to risk.  What might others do if I follow you Jesus; besides, last time I looked, there were lots of Romans still around.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    What would he hear today?  Liberation from my fears?  My gosh I would love that, but there are certain persons who may not approve and I desperately want them in my life.  Freedom from habits that can even bring me shame?  I don't see and can't imagine anything that could take their place.  Jesus yearns for their  freedom and they clutch their fears.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    What might it cost me to keep walking with Jesus this week?  What might I see? Who might see me?  What fears might rear their head?  What from the past?  What may I be clutching?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;        "God freed us from Egypt...let us rejoice at the wonder of our deliverance..."  I am thinking about this time next year; from what might I be delivered &lt;i&gt;now&lt;/i&gt; that would be the cause for rejoicing next year?&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    Let us keep walking into Jerusalem.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Blessed Tuesday of Holy Week,&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Todd Donatelli&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;

          ]]>
        </content:encoded>        

        <dc:date>2008-03-18T10:06:44-04:00</dc:date>

        <dc:modified>2008-03-18T10:09:30-04:00</dc:modified>

        <dc:creator>Todd Donatelli</dc:creator>

        
    </rss:item>

    
    <rss:item rdf:about="http://www.allsoulscathedral.org/blog/archive/2008/03/17/monday-in-holy-week-washing-preparing">

        <rss:title>Monday in Holy Week: Washing, Preparing</rss:title>

        <rss:link>http://www.allsoulscathedral.org/blog/archive/2008/03/17/monday-in-holy-week-washing-preparing</rss:link>       

        <rss:description>"Mary took a liter of costly perfumed oil made from genuine nard and anointed the feet of Jesus and dried them with her hair; the house was filled with the fragrance of oil."</rss:description>

        <content:encoded>
          <![CDATA[
          
&lt;p&gt;    What alerted Mary that preparation was the call of the day?  What did she see, sense, perceive?  I confess that for many years I used the three days between Palm Sunday and Maundy Thursday as a kind of Holy Week 'time out'.  After all, Palm Sunday and the Triduum (Thursday, Friday, Saturday Vigil) were the 'biggies'.  These 'time out' days were the days to get a lot of stuff done, and I am not referring to heart stuff.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    I am trying this year to be more present to the readings of these days so that they might prepare me to see even greater the build up of this whole week.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    I don't want to miss Mary and her perception.  I don't think this a matter of 'youngest child syndrome' or other socially observed phenomena that might explain away her extravagance.  I think it something about her heart preparation.  She had trained her eyes/heart/soul.  She had the eyes of the 'man born blind having found his 'sight' in the waters of the pool'.  She had the eyes/heart/soul of God: able to see a moment, able to sense a movement, able to hear in silence.  "Now is the time for the oil."  How long had she had it?  How long had she contemplated this action?  A day?  A week?  Longer?&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    What we do know is she did not miss the moment.  She was watching.  How will we spend the next three days?  How can I see &lt;i&gt;them&lt;/i&gt; as the 'biggies', the days that prep me for Thursday and following?  What kind of 'cleaning up' might I do to get the clutter out of the way, the clutter that keeps me from seeing the moment that is right before me?&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Blessed Monday in Holy Week&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Todd Donatelli&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;

          ]]>
        </content:encoded>        

        <dc:date>2008-03-17T08:44:50-04:00</dc:date>

        <dc:modified>2008-03-17T08:46:32-04:00</dc:modified>

        <dc:creator>Todd Donatelli</dc:creator>

        
    </rss:item>

    
    <rss:item rdf:about="http://www.allsoulscathedral.org/blog/archive/2008/03/13/no-room-in-the-inn-no-place-at-the-table">

        <rss:title>No Room in the Inn, No Place at the Table</rss:title>

        <rss:link>http://www.allsoulscathedral.org/blog/archive/2008/03/13/no-room-in-the-inn-no-place-at-the-table</rss:link>       

        <rss:description>The Archbishop of Canterbury's office has declared clearly how Christ-like Bishop Gene Robinson is in their action of saying there is no room for him at the table of bishops during this summer's Lambeth Conference.  </rss:description>

        <content:encoded>
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&lt;p&gt;    Bishop Robinson is the only Anglican bishop canonically elected, operating within diocesan boundaries, who has not been invited to the Lambeth Conference.  Three U.S. bishops had been working with Lambeth, Robinson himself had been working with Lambeth for about a year, to find some manner in which Gene could be present.  It included an offering of his being present simply for daily round table bible study and worship.  It was deemed unacceptable and he was offered a booth in the exhibition hall.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    In his remarks to our House of Bishops, Bishop Robinson showed a grace not found in his lack of invitation.  "For me the worst sin is leaving the table,"  said in the context of urging his fellow bishops to go to Lambeth and not stay home in support of him.  "I have been most disappointed in that my desire was to participate in Bible study and small groups and that is not being offered.  It makes me wonder: if we can't sit around a table and study the Bible together, what kind of communion do we have and what are we trying to save?"  I find myself wondering the same.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    I have been a long advocate of working to stay together, of gathering and making sacrifice, significant sacrifice, to avoid walking away from any of God's people.  I still believe with him that leaving the table is the worst sin.  And how long must gay and lesbian persons, (the same gay and lesbian persons that 1998 Lambeth and Primates meetings have told the greater church to listen to) be excluded outright from any council of the church?&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    Bishop Robinson speaks of the pain of gay and lesbian persons throughout the world and of all persons from his diocese whose voice is not welcome at the table.  It is a pain we need to embrace.  It is a pain Jesus embraces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    So what are we to do?  Encourage our bishop and all the U.S. bishops to speak for Gene and all gay and lesbian persons throughout the world, and all who support them.  Encourage our bishops to demonstrate gracious honesty.  Pray for our Bishops and all Bishops.  Encourage them to hold before the communion the Ethiopian Eunuch, the woman with the flow, the woman Jesus referred to as a dog, Bishop Robinson and all who were and are not deemed 'appropriate' by human standards.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    Pray for the Archbishop.  Pray for a 'generous orthodoxy', an orthodoxy rooted in practice, particularly Jesus' call to gather all to the table.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    As we approach Holy Week, it is clear that wounding the body of Jesus is still practiced.  Breaking apart that which God has created and declared as one is still practiced.  May we walk to Jerusalem this coming week holding before God ourselves, our communion, a globe aching for a witness of how to come together rather than how to further break apart, Bishop Robinson, the people of New Hampshire and the body of Christ.  May we find the ability not to run, not to join an angry mob, and not to stand in the shadows.  May we instead walk with Jesus and all who Jesus calls his own.  May we go to Jerusalem to 'die with him' as Thomas invites.  And may we find once again life where we despaired of its ever being possible.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Todd Donatelli&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;

          ]]>
        </content:encoded>        

        <dc:date>2008-03-13T16:06:22-04:00</dc:date>

        <dc:modified>2008-03-14T09:06:06-04:00</dc:modified>

        <dc:creator>Todd Donatelli</dc:creator>

        
            <dc:subject>Gene Robinson</dc:subject>
        
        
            <dc:subject>Lambeth</dc:subject>
        
        
            <dc:subject>Primates</dc:subject>
        

    </rss:item>

    
    <rss:item rdf:about="http://www.allsoulscathedral.org/blog/archive/2008/02/29/george-herbert-priest-poet-of-awe-and-wonder">

        <rss:title>George Herbert: Priest, Poet of Awe and Wonder</rss:title>

        <rss:link>http://www.allsoulscathedral.org/blog/archive/2008/02/29/george-herbert-priest-poet-of-awe-and-wonder</rss:link>       

        <rss:description>If part of Lent is recovering our awe and wonder, George Herbert should be required fare during these 40 days.</rss:description>

        <content:encoded>
          <![CDATA[
          
&lt;p&gt;      "Poetry is the language in which man explores his own amazement."                                                                                         Christopher Fly&lt;/p&gt;
"We can only approach the gods through poetry." &lt;br /&gt;                                                            Thomas Moore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    If the above be true, Herbert is an alluring guide and companion on our sojourn with the Divine.  Author of several hymns in the Episcopal Hymnal, priest and poet in the 17th century, Herbert's words speak of a deep intimacy with creation, the people of God and the Word that resides in, stirs and woos our souls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;p&gt; "Come my Joy, my Love, my Heart: such a joy as none can move; such a love as none can part; such a heart as joys in love." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;"Come my Way, my Truth, my Life: such a way as gives us breath; such a truth as ends all strife; such a life as killeth death."&lt;br /&gt;                                                                            Hymnal 1982, #487&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    And on prayer:&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;"Prayer, the Church's banquet, Angel's age,&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    God's breath in man returning to his birth,&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The Soul in paraphrase, the heart in pilgrimage,&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    The Christian plummet sounding heav'n and earth."&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    Herbert's words betray one who understands the transcendence of poetry; one who understands that words always fail to name fully the Holy, yet whose imagery can compel us into the mystic, the sacred, the knowing of the unknowable.  These are not words to pass by hurriedly.  They must be listened to, pondered, stood in front of, revisited again and allowed to seep into our most distant inner spaces.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    "Come my Light, my Feast, my Strength: such a light as shows a feast; such a feast as mends in length; such a strength as makes his guest."&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;"Poetry is the deification of reality."&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;                                Edith Sitwell&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;p&gt;May we with Herbert look at all around us and practice awe and wonder.  May we look at all around us and see Diety.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;Todd Donatelli&lt;br /&gt;
          ]]>
        </content:encoded>        

        <dc:date>2008-02-29T14:28:29-05:00</dc:date>

        <dc:modified>2008-02-29T14:28:29-05:00</dc:modified>

        <dc:creator>Todd Donatelli</dc:creator>

        
    </rss:item>

    
    <rss:item rdf:about="http://www.allsoulscathedral.org/blog/archive/2008/02/20/lent-the-sounds-of-silence">

        <rss:title>Lent: the sounds of silence</rss:title>

        <rss:link>http://www.allsoulscathedral.org/blog/archive/2008/02/20/lent-the-sounds-of-silence</rss:link>       

        <rss:description>No radio or music turned on in the car (excluding when daughters are present).  A chosen discipline of this Lent.  I had not realized how automatic turning on the radio or cd/tape was when I drive.  </rss:description>

        <content:encoded>
          <![CDATA[
          
&lt;p&gt;    Even as I seek to use the silence for reflection and prayer (I don't close my eyes while praying), I find myself instinctively reaching for the radio switch periodically.  It makes me wonder what else in me has become so automatic that I am not even conscious of my 'programmed response'.  Other than wanting to hear some blues music or Car Talk (I have asked Jesus for a dispensation on Car Talk- no dice) in some Pavlovian response, I wonder what thoughts and attitudes I have programmed in my head/heart/soul.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    Apparently we are very effective in 'wiring' our own brains.  If we tell them something enough, demand responses from them enough, they will cooperate and be trained to accept these as cognitive norms.  Eventually they will go to these places without being prompted consciously by us.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    So what else have I wired my mind to do/think/react?  What about trust?  What about generosity?  What about suspicion?  What about hoarding?  What kind of attitudes to certain faces, body types, personalities have I taught myself over the years?  Which are life giving 'programs' and which are not?  And what would it take to see what I have programmed myself to do autopilot- like?&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    As well, what can I do to consciously rewire myself toward the fruits of the Spirit, toward the heart/soul/mind of Christ?  One thing I am doing in the car is praying for folks who are, shall we say, less than courteous to me or others on the road.  Instead of my usual, 'and also with you' response, I offer them to Jesus- not that he would wreck their car!, but simply holding them up to God, allowing God to determine if and what they need.  In addition, hopefully, to wiring generosity in my brain, I find it helps my blood pressure- not a bad fruit.  It has caused a bit less judgment and created a bit more space in my heart for others.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    Not sure what will happen in Easter.  I confess I long for the sounds of Buddy Guy and John Lee Hooker, let alone Ray and Tom, to return to my speakers.  Perhaps there will be a compromise.  I hope not to undo any healthy rewiring that may be happening in these 40 days.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Todd Donatelli&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;

          ]]>
        </content:encoded>        

        <dc:date>2008-02-20T18:11:28-05:00</dc:date>

        <dc:modified>2008-02-20T18:11:28-05:00</dc:modified>

        <dc:creator>Todd Donatelli</dc:creator>

        
    </rss:item>

    
    <rss:item rdf:about="http://www.allsoulscathedral.org/blog/archive/2008/02/06/ashes-cleansing-and-seeing">

        <rss:title>Ashes, cleansing and seeing</rss:title>

        <rss:link>http://www.allsoulscathedral.org/blog/archive/2008/02/06/ashes-cleansing-and-seeing</rss:link>       

        <rss:description>Repent: greek- metaneo.  to change one's mind.  This brings a whole different spin on the popular notion of repent lest you burn like so much brush.  And the greek means much more than simply changing our stands about something.</rss:description>

        <content:encoded>
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&lt;p&gt;    It conveys a moving of our minds, a shifting, an expansion of our mind. It can be said to mean, thinking/seeing beyond where your mind is now.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    I am not sure where we got the notion that repentance meant some kind of personal shame, some way to show Jesus just how bad we felt about ourselves.  When Jesus called people to repent,, he was inviting them from the patterns, choices and habits that choked their lives into a freedom, a deliverance, into choices that fed, nourished and made them one with themselves, God and all around them.  'Give all you own to the poor'- it wasn't simply a call to socialism, that would be too simplistic and insulting.  He was inviting the man to leave the things that possessed him.  When he invites the woman at the well to call her husband (having a good hunch she had several men in her life) he is not trying to demean her character, he is inviting her to see that none of them can ultimately give her life and intimacy she that she is trying to find in them; he invites her to see that it can only be found in herself and through God.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    Ash Wednesday is that day when we got honest with ourselves about the addictions, the trade offs, the selling of our hopes, the demeaning compromises we have made thinking that all the above is what will still our heart, create intimacy and numb our self asserted shame.  To that Jesus calls, "Repent."  Let go the substances that pretend to calm- be they chemical, vocational or relational.  Let go the idols that pretend to bring security and peace, be they 'stuff/things', titles, or violence to individuals or groups.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;   Change your mind about what quiets the soul, what consoles the heart, what feeds the dreams.  Step outside of yourself long enough to see what Jesus sees, what God sees.  "Is there no one left to condemn you?  Than neither do I."  So hears the woman caught in adultery (by the way, where was the guy?)  "Who told you that you were naked?"  So says God to Adam and Eve when they become ashamed and conceal themselves.  Hear both saying, "Change your mind!"&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;    This Lent, what is God asking us to change about our mind?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;

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        <dc:date>2008-02-06T18:17:09-05:00</dc:date>

        <dc:modified>2008-02-06T18:17:09-05:00</dc:modified>

        <dc:creator>Todd Donatelli</dc:creator>

        
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