Breakfast

Today at Morning Prayer we celebrated the feast of St. Gregory Nazianzus. The Collect for his day references his episcopate and his Trinitarian theology. What it does not mention is his tireless work for the poor. Pray for us, Father Gregory.

J came in about half way through the Office and took his seat in the back. After sharing the Peace he asked JR to go and take care of some business with him that JR had already told him would have to wait until Tuesday. No harm in one more try.

Its raining this morning so there were a few folks gathered under the covered walkway that leads from the nave to the parish hall. We went inside and put the new casserole in the microwave and sat down - T, Adam, Kale, JR and I. (It strikes me that we do this same thing just about every day and I really have never thought that I am technically the only one who is actually a member of the parish).

Two guys followed in in the next few minutes. One went straight to the back room where we keep the clothes and toiletries to see if there was anything new in there (he checks just about every day).

There wasn't, so he asked me for some deodorant. This guy is one of our more unsavory fellows, and I told him that if there wasn't any back there we were out. JR, who had just gotten back from the gas station next door with a pack of smokes for one of the guys looked at me and said rhetorically, "You know, they might have some at the gas station." Of course we both knew they did. His suggestion was a gentile rebuke to my dislike for this fellow which was getting in the way of charity. I looked at JR, hung my head a little, and remembering what Benedict said about accepting rebuke cheerfully and immediately, decided against punching him in the face, and walked out the door to the gas station (but not before I was instructed by J to "get two, and the powder kind cause my armpits are sensitive".).

When I got back a couple minutes later I asked R and C if they wanted any breakfast and went in to collect their orders. I found we were out of hot sauce, a must for some of the folk. So out I went again, this time to Whole Foods. But again, before I could vacate, the same dude instructed me to "get some new milk cause your boys are out in there." When I got back with the milk and hot sauce I found we were not, in fact, out of milk.

I got C a cup of coffee and brought it out to him since he had gone ahead and eaten his eggs without the hot sauce (so glad I went to the store). I make coffee everyday and sometime no one drinks it, but I have this strange habit and serving people coffee makes me happy. So C's calm eyes and sips of his over-sugared, under creamed java calmed my soul for the moment. I felt a bond with him among the other chaos and demands that makes the rest of it doable. With his familiar "thank ya, dude" I headed back inside.

I sat down with the grocery list I am supposed to keep up for Gail to keep the kitchen stocked and finally got to a bowl of cereal. I was interrupted by J asking me to call Sammie away from him and then proceeding to rant about why I would bring a dog to church. "Calm down", I said, trying to hide my annoyance and be gentle. J muttered something about calming down and walked out of the parish hall, leaving his over-filled bowl of cereal and plate of eggs behind.