Friends,

This is one of those weeks where I have too little time and too much to say. Here are three rapid-fire things for you to consider. If you want something profound, read last week’s entry.

Pickle Volunteers Needed

As with most of the silly things I do, it started with something sad but hopeful. When my wife was going through cancer treatment, our neighbors left us a massive box of groceries from Costco without us having to ask, for which I remain grateful. One of the things in the box was a massive box of canned lattes. I am the only coffee drinker in the house, but I am allergic to milk!

Of course, I was not going to let them go to waste, so I stuffed my cassock pockets with them on Sunday. Whenever I greeted first-time visitors, I would pull out a canned latte and hand it to them. This was very effective and funny, and I wanted to keep it going, but as with all good things that Costco sells, the lattes came to an end. I tried canned cold brew coffee, but that didn’t take off. I tried brown sugar cinnamon Pop-Tarts (the best kind); they were popular, but crumbled too easily.

Then one spring I asked the farmer who runs the farmers’ market to have ten to twenty extra jars of pickles ready for us the next year for the annual BBQ. A year went by, and I totally forgot! He had all these extra pickles that his dad made in unmarked mason jars, and we had already bought our pickles. I felt horrible, so I bought up all the pickles and started keeping them in my pockets on Sunday morning to hand out, and this has been by far the most effective and well-received newcomer gift we’ve tried.

Here’s the problem: they stopped making the pickles! They sell Amish pickles now, and they are… fine. Actually, they taste quite good, but not as good as before. They also come labeled, which for some reason makes them seem less appealing. When they were unlabeled, it looked like we made them ourselves, and I think that had a certain appeal.

What if we did make our own pickles? We make our own bread. We make our own BBQ and sauces. Why not these too? Right now, I give out about five jars of pickles a week. Do you feel called to help me keep my welcome pickles stocked? If so, shoot me an e-mail, and we’ll see if we can get a team up and running. We could even put our own label on them. My vote is to call them Episcopickles, but I am open to suggestions.

Shrine Mont

It is hard to oversell Shrine Mont and all its wonder. If you’re not aware, Shrine Mont is an Episcopal retreat center in Orkney Springs, VA, so it is in the middle of nowhere. Before it was a church retreat center, it was one of those Victorian-era health spas, and most of the old buildings still stand! The old hotel dominates the landscape, and it looks out of time. Three stories of wrap-around porches feature a system of interconnected staircases that seem made for children to explore. The hotel and other cabins sit on a massive campus with playgrounds, trails, a labyrinth, and other things to explore. This is where we spend our parish retreat, and every year has been magical. The first year I went, Andy was little, maybe three, and the only other child to go was Harper Hanks. It was cold and rainy, but they didn’t care. They ran up and down the porches like there was no tomorrow. Now we have hordes of children going, and Shrine Mont will surely be a memory they will cherish.

A ton of St. Lukers will be there this coming weekend, and I am sorry that I will miss you if you go to Church on Sunday! While you are in St. Luke’s, we will be worshipping in the outdoor cathedral in the middle of the woods. If that sounds appealing, please join us next year!

Lisa and Richard Maple are the retreat organizers, and you can talk to them or me if you want more information for next year.

Loryapee...Loriahpi…Liriope?

This whole idea should be the lowest priority in your life. Heck, please forget about this. It really doesn’t matter. Regardless, bear with me.

When you are coming into the main entrance to the Church, the grass to the left of the entrance is all this grassy stuff called “liriope”, and it spreads like crazy. We’ve tried to get it out of the flower beds several times, and nothing works. I started to stop and pick out one shoot of loryapee every time I enter or leave through those doors. Three days in, and I notice a difference.

Like dealing with any sinful or broken element of the world, this discipline will not eliminate the problem, but it will keep it at bay. I encourage you to help me keep it at bay and take up the practice too. Don’t force it on anyone else. Let this be our thing. If others ask you about what you are doing, tell them about it, but don’t evangelize without consent. With the advent of social media, the world’s hate and brokenness become all too apparent. If we try to fight it by ourselves, then we are reduced to an online troll. A troll on the correct side of history is still a troll, and trolls don’t change or heal hearts and minds. Let’s do this work discreetly and together, and maybe we can keep the Loriahpi at bay.

Blessings,

Nick