Saturday, July 08, 2006

Don't let Killing the Buddha die

Law and Gospel fill in the blanks

Three names 1_____________ 2_____________ 3________(f)___
Three colors 4___________ 5_____________ 11_________
One something that makes a noise 6____________
One shape 8___________
One name of a ranch 9 ___________
One material 10___________
There was once a young cowboy named 1. He was the son of 2, the owner of 9 ranch. 9 was a dry place, treeless and filled with browned sagebrush and scraggly tuffs of buffalo grass. So in a lot of ways it was a place the total opposite of Essex.
Now 2 was an eccentric man. He wore a tall sloping 4 hat and he wore oversized clown-like cowboy boots made of 10. On them were spurs that jangled and sounded like 6 when he walked. And his pride and joy was 3, the buckingist, orneriest, mare that side of the Colorado. The horse was 5 with a distinctive 11 8 patch of fur between her eyes.
Now 1, impetuous young man that he was, wanted to be like his father. And 1 schemed and schemed and made a decision. He would take his father’s 10 boots, his spurs that jungled like the sound of, 6 and his tall 4 cowboy hat and head south to Texas.
And so 1 did just that. He got up well before the sun and snuck into his father’s room and took the 10 boots, 6 sounding spurs, and 4 hat. And then he went into the stables and took 3.
He put on his father’s clothing, saddled 3 and was off before the first fingers of sunrise had reached across the plains and touched 9 ranch.
Things went well for 1, at least at first. He had made it several dozen miles. Riding 3 was good fun and making her gallop with the spurs that jangled like 6s when he prodded at 3’s flanks was something 2 would never let him do.
By noon 3 was tired and 1 sore. They both were thirsty. 1, for all his planning, had forgotten to bring a canteen. And soon his father’s large 10 boots were hurting his feet. But he was ambitious and foolish, and continued on. And soon enough one of the boots fell from his foot, and when it clanged loudly, sounding like a giant 6 3 was spooked. She began to buck, and kick, and snort, and whinney into the air. 1 was thrown from the horse and his glasses flew from his face, smashing on a rock. Without them 1 was blind as a bat.
3 stopped and let her small rider back onto her back. They continued forward, their collective throats parched. They continued on like that for a whole day until 3 said, "We need to drink something or we’ll die."
1 was puzzled, "horses can’t talk," he said.
"I know," 3 replied, "you are just delirious from lack of water.
And 1 nodded and looked out hoping for help. All he could see with his blurred vision was a strange two headed monster. One head was 4, the other 5 with a strange 11 blot on it.
3 continued toward it.
"Don’t go that way. There’s a horrible monster there." 1 said. Yet 3 kept going.
Again 1 protested, "It’s horrible, and dangerous!" Yet 3 kept going.
And a third time 1 said, "It’s horrible and dangerous, and down right evil. We must stay away from it." And 3, with the last of her strength, broke out into a gallop toward the monster. And she nudged 1 off her back. And 1 saw that the monster was a reflection of himself in a cool still pond, which he drank deeply from and was saved.

Apparently Presiding Bishop Schori is a Beaver!

The new Presiding Bishop of the Episcipalian Church graduated from Oregon State University.

The Lutheran has featured my blog