The Ramblings of Weesatch Joe

We enjoy watching re-runs of MASH, so much so that we're watching them again, to borrow from Kellogg's corn flakes, watching them again for the first time. It's not the first time, of course - I know scenes, even lines by heart. That's handy, at times, because the writing was fantastic. They had real doctors as advisors so the medicine part was accurate, relatively speaking. But I have always suspected they had a clergyman hiding somewhere in the writing room because Father Mulcahey was written very well as a man of the cloth, with depth and value, always ready to slip in with some "cross-action” as Trapper would say, offering prayers and blessings in the goriest and most intense of moments.  There is an episode that comes to mind this time of year. I don't remember the title, or even the season. If you're also a fan, you'll recall the episode. It's Christmas, the 4077 is putting on a little Christmas party for Ouijambou families, and a soldier is b...

I Don’t Want Forgiveness! That might sound like a strange sentence coming from a pastor. After all, my very vocation is grounded in forgiveness. I preach it, teach it, and deliver it in word and sacrament. It’s actually my favorite part of my job, telling a soul, struggling with guilt and shame, that they are forgiven of all of their sins by Jesus. I love to deliver the goods, because I receive that promise and assurance myself. If I had to pick a favorite Bible verse – just one! – I would chose Romans 8:1, “There is no condemnation for those in Christ Jesus.” While that doesn’t use the word forgiveness, forgiveness is exactly what it speaks of: God not holding my sins against me because of Christ. Today, I’m not talking about the world of sins, the Pauline Epistles, or the cross of Jesus. Today, I’m talking about student debt. Hello. My name is Jon. [“Hi, Jon!”] And I am a student debt holder.  I completed my undergrad in the summer of 1996 debt free, graduating with a BA ...

In her August 16, 2022 article in The Atlantic, titled “The Soft Closing of the Pandemic,” [1] author Katherine J. Wu suggests that, for all intents and purposes, the “pandemic” part of Covid-19 has come to its conclusion . Thanks to the newly revised and down-sized CDC guidelines, we can mostly do away with the pandemic-centric behaviors we have had to wrestle with (to a greater or lesser degree) for the last two-plus years. The article suggests that words like mask, mandate, and mitigation, will be joined by a fourth M-word: memory. The guidelines “might give the impression that this fall could feel a lot like the ones we had in the Before Times,” she writes. In other words, things are, for better or worse, mostly back to “normal.” Image created by AI I understand what she is saying. In many parts of the country, the pandemic has already had a soft closing. I’m in Texas, and outside the major cities like Austin, masks, like man-buns, are scarcely seen. In my community, the pandemic ...

My community is wrestling with the issue of LGBTQ+ books (and, I presume, other literature) in the public library. Simply: are books that promote, support, and celebrate such “alternative” lifestyle, sexual “freedom” and “choice” acceptable to the community and library patrons?  By vocation, I am a Christian pastor in a theologically and doctrinally conservative church body and parish. I also hold the vocation of community citizen, generally conservative and generally libertarian in my opinion and approach. This is my personal reflection, not from my Office on behalf of either the parish or denomination.  Those who support the inclusion of LGBTQ+ books argue that they are protected by the 1st Amendment, this is a Freedom of Speech issue, the Supreme Court determined that homosexual marriage is legal and thus normalizing it across society, and that as a community’s public library, it should not restrict a free exchange of ideas – even those ideas that one might disagree wit...

I'm a fan of Johnny Cash, "The Man in Black." My dad liked him, turning his music up when it came across the radio, the deep baritone resonating through the speakers. I guess it makes sense that I liked him then and still enjoy listening to him today. Occasionally his music floats through my mind while I see or hear something - like "Burning Ring of Fire" when I pass a taco joint or "Folsom Prison Blues" when I roll by the county jail. I have a CD of his older stuff when he was still with Sun Records. He had a song about a boy who shined shoes. I always wondered if he wrote the song after seeing a little fella putting a shine on a businessman's Florsheim's while waiting for a train to the next show in the next town.  Hey, get rhythm! When you get the blues! C'mon, get rhythm! When you get the blues! Get a rock and roll feeling in your bones Put taps on your toes, and get goin' Get rhythm! When you get the blues! I thought of Johnny'...

The world stopped turning Friday.  Not literally, of course. Ask any astrophysicist and they’ll tell you that the Earth is so perfectly-yet-delicately balanced in it’s position in the planetary lineup that if it were just a few feet closer or further away from the sun, if it’s axis were tilted ever-so-slightly more or less, all hell would break loose. If our planet suddenly started accelerating or slowing around it’s axis, we would either be crushed by gravity or be flung toward Mars like Elon’s shiny, red Tesla. If the Earth’s rotation around the sun changed in any way, we would freeze or melt.  Since none of those things happened – we’re all still standing, no one has left the atmosphere, and fall is finally starting to arrive in South Texas – the Earth must still be spinning. But for one family, a widow, a daughter, two sons, a step-daughter, a step-son, and a mother and father, their world came to a full, complete stop. A dead stop, you might say. It was the day her husban...

I've spent a lot of time the last two weeks in the ICU of a local hospital, watching, waiting and praying - not only with a member-family from church, but with others as well. The power of a clerical shirt and what it represents is not to be underestimated in places and times like that.  Robert's family had been waiting for hours for their priest to arrive. Meanwhile, doctors and nurses scurried about, trying desperately to save the older gentleman. For whatever reason - and let the reader understand: I offer no judgement - the priest did not come. I was there. The wife accepted my offer to go to the bedside of the dying man, pray for and bless him.  This came from watching the day's events from the neighboring ICU room.  Fanfare of the Intensive Care Copeland wrote for The Common Man,     Melodies strong and bold, This is Fanfare of another kind,    A score that must be told. The IV infuser chirps away,    Singing in minor key, While fl...