Thursday, February 16, 2006

Confirmation part II: electric bugaloo

So to be confirmed you gotta take classes. I'm down. I'm the first to admit that I lack liturgical book learnin'. That's the downside to not being a cradle Episcopalian. They've got years and years of vacation bible school and youth groups and stuff. I've got a hungry mind and eight years of pretty regular church. Oh, and I like gin, that's gotta count for something.

After Canterbury, I pretty much stuck to myself; I never really got involved in the pastoral side of church. I lean towards lone wolfdom anyway; not because I'm antisocial or shy, I'm just perfectly happy hanging out inside my own brain and with a single exception; all of my great spiritual revelations have come to me while I was on my own, so I think I'm on the right track. (I'd like to give a Strunk and White-style shout-out to the semicolon, the most maligned of punctuation, for helping me with that wickedly long sentence)

That being said, I'm glad I'm in a class, especially because I'm in the situation of I don't know what I don't know, and the only thing I DO know is that I don't know a damn thing. I can say damn, by the way because the dean emeritus of ETSS said it. If I wore socks he would have rocked them right off and I surely learned more from him in an hour and a half of round-table discussion than I learned from anyone in college ever.

After class I was in such a prayerful and scriptural mood I headed straight home (well, actually I stopped to get a tuna sub first, but I think that sort of counts, loaves and fishes and all) read half of Galatians and went "aaaah ha!"

This blog has been brought to you by the ministry of misunderstood punctuation.


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