The Red-head Boy

When I saw him in the communion line, I did a double-take. He seemed about the same size, with similarly messy red hair, as one of my grandsons. I watched him with fascination: he was somewhat independent but not transgressive, like my grandson. He knew where he was and was happy, a little running to the side then back into the line. He looked up when he reached the altar. Although I knew he was not my grandson, still I felt that I knew him.

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    A guy passed me on the Katy trail. Another double-take: Do I know him? But if so, from where? one of the churches I visit? at the library? at a restaurant? Then I realized it was none of these, that in fact, we were strangers jogging past each other. The shape of his head, his jawline, his overall height: they had evoked the memory of a priest who, back in New York, had been first a student of mine and then a colleague. That priest is one of my “friends on hold”; I haven’t seen him for several years, but there is in me the hope that I will see him again. If we were to meet on the trail, we could pick up immediately where we left off, as if no time had passed.

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    My red-head grandson, like all my grandchildren, is a friend-in-the-making. There are important respects in which we are not friends now. Adults have a certain authority over children that, for the children’s own good, they cannot lay aside. (Adults who try to be friends of children too easily slip into behaviors that harm children.) But in time—and it won’t be that long, actually—he will be an adult, and we can then be real friends, if we both want it. 

    Concerning the red-head boy that I saw in church: it seems God and he are already forming a friendship. If that sticks for both of us we will be friends someday, even though at present we don’t know each other. We will be friends because, at the end, all the friends of Jesus will be friends with all the friends of Jesus. 

    And the guy on the Katy trail? Since friendship is what human beings were made for, who knows? Maybe he too is a friend of Jesus. 

    God is always wanting to give us new friends.

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    Announcing: The Fall Theology Lecture, Sunday, Oct. 27, “Walking the Camino: How and Why.” Twice now I have walked from Roncesvalles in Spain, a village just over the Pyrenees from France, to Santiago de Compostela in northwest Spain. This route is a thousand years old, and millions of pilgrims have walked it, including today some hundreds of thousands every year. My lecture will address two basic questions. First, how does a person make this walk? What are the practicalities? How do you prepare physically and spiritually? And second, why would you want to walk to a place which is claimed to be the burial place of a saint? Isn’t God everywhere? What is the connection of holy places to our nature as animals that walk? Bishop Sumner will offer a response; there will be time for questions; and there will be a reception. 5 p.m. in the Great Hall at St. Matthew’s Cathedral, Dallas.

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    Out & About: I am to preach at St. Matthew’s Cathedral, Dallas, on Sunday, Oct. 13. The Eucharists are at 9 and 11:15 a.m.

    “Good Books & Good Talk” book seminar October 13: We’ll discuss Russell Kirk’s Gothic novel, Old House of Fear. The title refers to a castle on a purportedly haunted Scottish island. Anyone who reads the book is welcome to join; we meet from 5 to 6:30 p.m. in Garrett Hall at St. Matthew’s. To enter: find St. Matthew’s on the box beside the door; then find receptionist; then ring.

The Comeback of Amongst?

Too much Rite I, perhaps, along with my late-in-life discovery of the King James Version, has made me a writer who finds it natural to speak of things being amongst other things. I’ve had copy editors who change it, without asking, to “among”; they will say it’s the publisher’s house style. But to me, the words are different. They feel different: “among” seems more ordinary or accidental. “Among the many things on her dresser was a five-dollar bill.” But “amongst” suggests a real connection: “When he was amongst his brothers, he always felt inferior.”

I read a column by Bryan Garner, author of Garner’s Modern English Usage, a book now in its fifth edition. Garner was reviewing a book by Anne Curzan, the title of which is Says Who? A Kinder, Funner Usage Guide for Everyone Who Cares about Words. The “funner” puts me off, as I hope it puts off you, dear reader. Garner went on to list ten points on which Curzan disagrees with him, one of them being “fun” and “funner.” My sympathies were pro-Garner. But then things got interesting.

    Garner: “I call amongst a pretentious archaism in American English—primarily a Briticism.”

    Curzan: To the contrary, you should “keep your eye on this resurrected word” because “it may have reenergized legs.”
 
Hey! Once again I find I just might be on the cutting edge. A resurrected word! With legs! Take that, you stodgy modern style guides!
 
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The word “legs” also caught my ear. It was at a clergy lunch that the late rector emeritus of Saint Thomas Fifth Avenue picked up his wine glass, containing a fine red from France, slowly turned it around at an angle, and pronounced it a good wine. “It has legs,” he said.
    
I never knew wine might have legs. Now I read that a word (a "resurrected word"!) can have legs. And it is a word I like to use. What will next have legs?
 
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Meanwhile we can return to Galilee. He lived amongst us, a teacher walking from place to place as he drew his disciples close, tying them to one another with bonds eternal. That, to be sure, was the event of all events to have legs.
 
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Out & About: I am to preach at St. Matthew’s Cathedral, Dallas, on Sunday, Sept. 29. The Eucharists are at 9 and 11:15 a.m.
    
The next Sunday, I will be teaching a class at St. Martin’s Church in Houston, at 10:15 a.m. My topic is “Everything Happens for a Reason”—something Jesus never said! (Nor do I.) If you live in Houston, it would be great to see you.
    
Book seminar October 13: At St. Matthew’s in Dallas, we’ll discuss Russell Kirk’s Gothic novel, Old House of Fear. The title refers to a castle on a purportedly haunted Scottish island. Anyone who reads the book is welcome to join; we meet from 5 to 6:30 p.m.
    
I will teach Christian Ethics at the Stanton Institute, a five-session course meeting on one Saturday each month from January through May, starting Jan. 18, from 1 to 4 p.m. at St. Matthew’s, Dallas. I teach the course around basic human questions, such as “What’s Christian about Christian ethics?” (Would you take a course in “Christian Physics”? What’s the difference?) For more info or to register contact Erica Lasenyik:

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The Rev. Canon Victor Lee Austin. Ph.D., is the Theologian-in-Residence for the diocese and is the author of several books including, "Friendship: The Heart of Being Human" and "A Post-Covid Catechesis.: