11/24 GPC Sermon (properly formatted)

Before we hear the gospel lesson I’d like to tell you a story. This is a story that comes to us from the historian Flavius Josephus, in his book The Jewish War. It’s a story that takes place during Jesus’ lifetime, sometime between 18 and 20 AD, and it takes place where he grew up. Many of the players enter the New Testament stories at one point or another. There’s King Herod, for example--Herod the Great. This is the Herod who tries to have Jesus killed in the Nativity story when he hears about a baby who is going to be King of the Jews. One of his sons (also named Herod) is the one who is present at the Crucifixion. But this story is about a different son of Herod the Great-- a son named Archelaus. 

His father--Herod the Great--has just died. Archelaus thinks he’s going to inherit his father’s throne, but since the province of Judea is under Roman rule, he has to go through the formality of appearing before Caesar--this would be Tiberius Caesar--and having his kingship confirmed. Archelaus now went to the seaside with his family and friends, and left behind him a steward to be in charge of his palace, and to take care of his domestic affairs. Salome also went along with him, and her sons. In appearance this was to give him all the assistance they were able, so that he might secure his succession. But in reality they would accuse him for his breach of the laws for what he had done at the temple.

Archelaus had committed a brutal crime against Jewish and Roman law several years earlier--he had sent his soldiers into a crowd during the Passover Festival and slaughtered over three thousand people. This crowd was advocating for the removal of some Roman symbols in the temple, the release of political prisoners, lower taxes, and the removal of a corrupt high priest.

Archelaus went on his journey, not knowing that Salome and her sons were also going to accuse him instead of supporting him once he was before Casear. His brother also goes to Caesar to work against him, and some of the stewards that he’s left behind to look after his affairs--it turns out that they are in league against him as well.

While he’s away there is a popular revolt--doubtless the result of some of those very problems that Archelaus was suppressing, like pagan symbols in the temple, corruption among the elites, high taxes, and unfair imprisonments. The leader of this revolt is a shepherd named Athronegus, who announces that he has started a movement to establish the Kingdom of God. We don’t officially know what happens to Athronegus, but the revolt is unsuccessful and he’s most likely executed. Archelaus keeps on making his case to Caesar, and even more Jewish envoys protest against him. Eventually Caesar decides to split the Judean province into four separate kingdoms--he calls them ethnarchies--and he gives only one of them to Archelaus.

Here’s how Josephus writes the conclusion. And now Archelaus took possession of his ethnarchy and used not only the Jews, but the Samaritans also, barbarously; and this out of the resentment for their old quarrels with him.

Hear now the reading from the gospel of Luke. In chapter 19 Jesus is coming from the North to ascend into Jerusalem--the final trip to Jerusalem, where his public ministry comes to a head. He has been raising support and performing miracles throughout the northern reaches of Palestine, and he has the authorities worried. Large crowds are following him, he’s performing miraculous signs, and he keeps on speaking about how the Kingdom of God is now breaking in. He is a legitimate threat to some, a sign of revolutionary hope to others, and a confrontation is brewing. He’s just passed through Jericho (meeting the wee little man Zaccheus), and the story picks up in verse 18.

As the crowd heard these things he proceeded to tell them a parable, because he was near to Jerusalem, and the crowd supposed that the Kingdom of God was about to appear immediately.

He said therefore, “A nobleman went to a faraway country to receive for himself a kingdom and then return. 13 Calling ten of his servants,[a] he gave them ten minas,[b] and said to them, ‘Take care of my business until I come back.’ 14 But his citizens hated him and sent a delegation after him, saying, ‘We do not want this man to reign over us.’ 15 When he returned, having received the kingdom, he ordered these servants to whom he had given the money to be called to him, that he might know what they had gained by doing business. 16 The first came before him, saying, Sir, your mina has made ten minas more.’ 17 And he said to him, ‘Well done, good servant![c] Because you have been faithful in a very little, you shall have authority over ten cities.’ 18 And the second came, saying, Sir, your mina has made five minas.’ 19 And he said to him, ‘And you are to be over five cities.’ 20 Then another came, saying, Sir, here is your mina, which I kept laid away in a handkerchief; 21 for I was afraid of you, because you are a severe man. You take what you did not deposit, and reap what you did not sow.’ 22 He said to him, ‘I will condemn you with your own words, you wicked servant! You knew that I was a severe man, taking what I did not deposit and reaping what I did not sow? 23 Why then did you not put my money in the bank, and at my coming I might have collected it with interest?’ 24 And he said to those who stood by, ‘Take the mina from him, and give it to the one who has the ten minas.’ 25 And they said to him, ‘Lord, he has ten minas!’ 26 ‘I tell you that to everyone who has, more will be given, but from the one who has not, even what he has will be taken away. But as for those enemies of mine who did not want me to reign over them, bring them here and slaughter them in front of me.

I always heard this passage--or the parallel passage in Matthew, which the currency is denominated in “talents” instead of “minas,” and doesn’t include that last line about the king ordering his enemies slaughtered in front of him--as a story about how you should be responsible with your “gifts.” The first two servants are the good guys, the third servant is bad because he’s lazy, and the king stands in for God. The passage (in the flannelgraph telling) is about responsibility and the protestant work ethic. It’s about signing up help with the snow shoveling, or how you should join Adult Choir. To be clear, I do think we should all be responsible, and I do think that all of you should join Adult Choir. But that isn’t what this passage is about. This passage is about Archelaus. Jesus isn’t giving a flannelgraph lesson, he’s telling them a news story--importantly, a news story that they all would have already known. So why? 

The key is the crowd--the crowd that is boiling over with the expectation that the Kingdom of God is about to appear imminently. In telling the story of Archelaus Jesus is making a nuanced critique of that expectation and subverting it. He’s not saying “the moral of the story is to behave like the servant with the ten minas.” He’s saying what he says in Matthew 11--from the days of John the Baptist until now the Kingdom of God has suffered violence, and violent people have tried to take it by force.

Do you remember Athronegus, the shepherd leader of the revolt from Josephus’ story? That’s what the crowd is expecting. They are expecting that this charismatic leader who clearly has divine favor, who proclaims freedom for prisoners, and who critiques the corrupt Jewish rulers and priests is going to come down to Jerusalem and cleanse the temple and drive the Romans out with their pagan symbols and their pagan taxes. They’re expecting a call to arms. And Jesus has done bits of that--he HAS declared a jubilee, he’s announced that the kingdom is “within your grasp,” and he does critique corrupt politicians. You can understand why the crowd is worked up.

But just as they get to the point of reaching for their swords as they boil over with the expectation that Jesus is going to inaugurate the Kingdom of God RIGHT NOW, he opens his mouth to tell them a story. They’re probably expecting him to tell them a story like the story of The Maccabees--about Jewish revolutionaries taking up arms and driving out the pagans by force in the name of purity, Torah, and homeland.

But Jesus doesn’t do that. He reminds them that those who sought to work behind Archelaus’ back were put to a violent death, the inevitable result of fighting against pagan power on a pagan power’s terms. He reminds the people of Israel--the people who chosen to be a light to the world, to be a blessing to the Gentiles, to be the holy people among whom the Creator God made his home--that there are ruinous consequences for those who shirk the office that they are entrusted.

What Jesus did is astounding. He confronted those who thought they could lay claim to being the divine people, the chosen ones, and who were prepared to enforce that claim by violence and political machinations. He upended them by telling a story, a nuanced story about the consequences of trying to gain a kingdom of by intrigue and force. Since the days of John the Baptist violent men have been trying to lay hold of the Kingdom of God. Jesus warning about a judgment coming upon this crowd, not a Kingdom. 

It’s depressingly easy to start naming instances in our modern world where some group would claim to speak for God. “We are the chosen people, and because we are being faithful we can justify our violence or our political power plays.” Now, as then, the answer to those who would lay hold of the Kingdom of God by violence is not to answer with a louder or more violent claim that “no, we are the divine people. We can’t let the kingdom fall into their hands.”

Instead, let us tell stories. When our culture implies that only the rich and important are worth paying attention to, let us gather into a community that above all else looks to the care of the poor, the elderly, and the children. Let us sing our songs, on music Sunday, not only of ourselves and our own loves and pains, but let us sing God’s glory and goodness--a reflection of our God into his good creation and a summing of that creation’s praises as an offering back to him. May the story of our community be of corporate self-criticism and confession.

And let us, in that corporate life, be ready to be surprised by God’s word when it turns out that what we thought was a straighforward stewardship parable turns out to be a nuanced political critique that upends our understanding of our vocation. When others would lay hold of the kingdom of God by violence, let us sing its songs and tell its stories.

Year 6

Today was the first rehearsal of my sixth season in (silly name redacted for privacy) orchestra. Here are some things I know, going into my sixth year, that I didn't going into my first.

-The first rehearsal after the summer break and the first rehearsal after the winter break are the best your chops will feel all year. Eventually you just come around to feeling like sore and beat up is normal, and fresh and rested is an unusual day.

-Lipping up all the time wastes your face, and playing loud all the time wastes your face, but lipping up while playing as loud as you can is a great way to be toast after five minutes.

-All the method books work on getting the fronts of notes to speak right, but most of the time on the job it's the ends of notes that make you feel silly.

-Don't eat or drink anything during the rehearsal if you can help it, and try to go pretty light on the lunch in between

-Even if you don't like chapstick, you still have to wear chapstick

-You have to be able to distinguish the genuine conductor feedback (stuff they actually heard and want fixed) from the stock phrases that they trot out because they're up in front of everyone and feel like they should talk. Nod appreciatively at both, but you don't have to actually do anything different if they start going on about "playing right on the stick."

-Stay hydrated. Don't drink too much coffee.

-80% of your missed notes won't be because you're doing something wrong technically, just because you aren't quite focused. So drink enough coffee to be alert.

-15% of your missed notes could have been solved by sitting down with the part ahead of time and giving it a thorough enough look to figure out where the problem spots are going to be.

-But if you only have an hour to practice and a bunch of folders of new music, it's better to spend the hour on keeping your fundamentals up. Because you can't play anything when your chops are messed up.

-99% of the time you don't need to play as loud as you think you do.

James' Latin Lesson

Lesson III
Vocabulary
fortuna--fortune, chance (fortunate)
Gallia--Gaul
herba--plant, herb (herbivore)
mensa--table
nauta--sailor (Nautilus)
terra--land, earth (territory)
via--road, way (Via Dolorosa)
clamo--I shout (clamor)
porto--I carry (portable, transport)
supero--I overcome, surpass (superior)

"Okay James, we're going to finish up with some work on the derivatives--I'm going to ask you for some English words that are derived from the Latin vocabulary. Are you ready?"
"Sure."
"Question 1: Something light enough to carry is _____?"
"Umm...potable."
"Well, not quite. Potable means you can drink it, that's a derivative from another Latin verb that we'll learn later."
"Right, portable."
"Yes. Question 2: When the settlers moved west, they went through Indian ______?"
"Uh."
"Through Indian____?"
"Uh. Through Indiana."
"Well, I suppose some have them might have gone through Indiana, but what was the name of the land that the Indians owned that the settlers passed through?"
"Oh, Indian territory."
"Question 3. You are ______ to be able to study Latin."
"Umm...Dolorosa?"
"James."
"I am able to be able to study Latin?"
"What's another way to say lucky? From fortuna?"
"What?"
"Fortunate. You are fortunate to be able to study Latin."
"I guess so."
"Question 4. Latin study will make you a ________ student."
<Thoughtful look>
"Latin study will make me a Latin student."

Owen Announcement

Every afternoon for the past few days I’ve been taking them outside, sticking a flag into the pocket of my shorts, and shouting “Go!” The kids chase me all over the yard and try to grab the flag out of my pocket, and when one of them gets it they each get an Oreo. It’s a great way to tire them out and get some exercise.

Owen got the flag out today, and he wants everyone in the world to know how he did it, ESPECIALLY (for reasons best known to him) Ms. Jane. He pulled my shorts down.

I actually managed to keep on running for a good bit after the initial yank (and one of my shoes had come off too) but Owen pulled the flag out in the end while James laughed hysterically on the grass. And now Owen needs EVERYONE to know.

So, congratulations to Owen on your athletic triumph.

2019 Buffalo Bills Season Predictions

QB-Josh Allen will just miss the 3,000 yard mark because of multiple injuries. He will throw for over 20 touchdowns but will come dangerously close to 20 interceptions as well, largely of the "throwing across your body into double coverage while running the other way variety." They will sign a third QB at some point to back up Barkley while Allen is out, and this QB probably will have played for the Carolina Panthers organization sometime in the past five years.

RB-The position will look a lot better than it did last year, but Gore will be more reliable than Singletary. Look for lots of drops in the flat/underthrown balls bouncing at their feet. Singletary kind of looks like he could be a fumbler.

WR-Someone is going to have a dreadful 4th quarter drop that costs the team a game, and that person could be anyone in the WR room, but is most likely going to be Zay Jones. (It could also, channeling the ghost of Charles Clay, be a tight end.) Robert Foster will have at least one game with 3 plays over 50 yards, but will probably end up getting cut before the season is over.

TE-Dawson Knox will lead the team in false starts. Lee Smith is a good candidate to say something racist/Trumpy enough to make national news.

OL-We all will have forgotten that the team signed Mitch Morse by season's end, because he will have been on IR since Week 2. Dion Dawkins will be quietly excellent and Feliciano will be quietly mediocre, but Feliciano will seem like the bigger deal since RG was such a revolving door last year.

DE-Someone is poised to have a big year working off the single team blocking that Ed Oliver causes, and it might be Jerry Hughes. (This might also be the year that Jerry Hughes actually gets ejected from a game.) Overall not an area of strength, though, and the draftniks will all be talking about how the Bills are one good pass-rusher away from being a quality defense.

DT-Star Lotulelei is the next middle of the season (or middle of a game) retirement. Ed Oliver will be nothing flashy statistically but will quietly dominate the line of scrimmage.

LB-Tremaine Edmunds leads the team in interceptions, but also in dumb plays when he's caught looking into the backfield and lets the tight end get away. Matt Milano probably can't keep pace with all the big plays from a year ago, and Lorenzo Alexander will have at least four sacks.

CB-There will be at least one game when neither Tre'Davious White or Levi Wallace is healthy enough to start. White will have an amazing year and won't get into the Pro Bowl.

S-They're both really good, so hopefully they stay healthy. I see either one of these guys as prime candidates for hosting another round of "The Bills' 12 Days of Christmas"

Special Teams-This could be rough. Hauschka will be fine as long somebody tells him before each extra point that it's really a field goal in disguise. Bojorquez is cut by week two. Isaiah McKenzie will get maybe two returns and will break both of them big, but for some reason or another Micah Hyde will end up handling most of the return duties and just kneeling/fair catching everything.

Coaching-Quotes to expect from this year:
<clap clap clap>
"We have a lot of confidence in Josh, and we know he'll bounce back quickly from this and use it as a losing opportunity."
"We really respect their organization, and we think it's just a very small minority of our fans that engage in that kind of behavior. I certainly don't think that it's an appropriate object to throw onto a football field."
"We just want to put our guys in the best position to make a play, and we really think that having a fullback on the field is the way to do that.

BONUS James Owen and Felix football predictions
James will be distraught when he loses his football for good due to the stitching unraveling. (Again.)
Owen will finally pick a team and stick with it, and it will be the Bills.
Felix will learn to stop biting people once he's tackled them.

Morning Greetings

James-
"Hey! Why did you sleep so late? I was wondering if you were ever going to get up and make me breakfast!"
"Is it 8:00 yet? Can I go outside and play football now?"
"I don't think the clock in the library is right. Does your watch say 8:00?"
"Hey, can you come look at the clock? Does it say 8:00. Yeah, I know how to read the clock. But do you think it says 8:00?"

Owen-
"Owen, go back to bed."
"I can't sleep in my bed."
"Go back to bed."
"Can I just sleep here for a little bit."
"You need to sleep in your own bed."
"Can I sleep in the bathroom?"
"No. Go back to bed. It's 4:30 in the morning."
"Does that mean it's almost time to get up?"
"It means it's time to go back to bed."
"Can I snuggle you for just a minute?"
....
"Can I look at some books? Will you read me some?"

Felix-
"Good morning, Felix!"
"Hi!"
"Did you sleep so good?"
"UH-huh."
"Are you ready to go get some breakfast this morning? A yummy smoothie?"
"I wan' a HOT dog."
"I don't think we're going to do a hot dog for breakfast."
<sings Imperial March>

Football and a Pink Camera

Football

These boys have gone crazy for football. James got one out of the prize box at the doctor’s office and immediately began acting out full seasons of Eagles’ football in the backyard, complete with preseason, postseason, scores, and rankings for all the other teams in the league.

Owen waited for months for Grandma Davis to bring back the football he left in Pennsylvania. Felix basically watched the older two until they were foolish enough to leave a football lying around, and then would snatch it up (“MY football”) and hold it until a parent separated the ensuing scuffle of crying little boys.

Felix got his own football a few days ago, and then traded it to Owen for the Bills football. A day later they traded back, and now Felix has the new football again. For awhile he was in possession of a falling-apart nerf football, but that one didn’t look enough like James and Owen’s. His new one is a legitimate ball.

I play catch with them in the backyard. They complain when I throw it too hard, but also when I don’t throw it hard enough. They tell me every time a throw is too high or too low, and Owen cries whenever someone else makes a catch and he doesn’t. They like to throw all three balls at me at the same time, and then they get upset if I don’t catch all three. It’s a very good workout.

They’re all getting a good workout too. They can play in the backyard unsupervised, and they’ll stay out for as long as we let them. They run in circles whooping and celebrating and making diving catches, and by the time they come in they’re drenched in sweat and covered in grass stains. They have not smelled very good this week.

The Pink Camera

Back in ancient times, before cameras came standard on smart phones, you had to have a camera that was its own device. I gave J a pink digital camera as a birthday present one summer when we were dating, and she used it to take pictures of her life at RWC and occasionally send me photos while I was living in Chicago.

Then we all got smartphones, and the camera was retired to half-unpacked moving boxes full of half-broken laptop parts and old pens. This year we unearthed that box and found the camera inside. It still worked, and we even found some memories (the stub of our admission ticket to the Butterfly Conservatory) inside the case.

We decided that it could be the boy’s camera. They ran the first set of batteries down within a day. Our first attempt to make a slideshow of their work didn’t pan out, but the next day we looked at their first attempts at photography.

Of the nearly 500 pictures that they took, at least 50 were of the FatHead Eagles logo that James has above his bed. There were also individual shots of each of their football helmet collections, and then shots of a toy Yoshi action figure wearing each of the football helmets. Owen took pictures of James running around in the backyard playing football, and then apparently took a number of photos of the inside of his own mouth.

James used the camera to take blurry shots of his favorite Calvin and Hobbes strips, and pictures (for some reason) of his favorite stuffed animals at incredibly close range. He found these pictures hilarious. 

There are a number of pictures of the clouds, the grass, the garden, and my car. I don’t know when they got it, but they apparently snuck up behind me and took a picture of my butt. Also, there about 30 pictures of a book on the New York Jets that they checked out of the library.

I remember when I got my first camera, and I think I used it in about the same way. Thanks to Dad for all the work that must have gone into actually developing silly five-year-old with a camera photos in a darkroom. It was much easier to just pull out the SD card and put it in a laptop.

A Conversation with Owen

Q: So Owen, what are you doing in that bush? <Owen is sitting in a bush>
A: Um, sitting.
Q: Why?
A: Wanna come in?
Q: No thanks, this chair is more comfortable. Is it comfy in there?
A: Yeah.
Q: How are you liking Kindergarten?
A: Good. I like reading and doing science and coloring things. <N.B. Owen isn't doing science in Kindergarten.> Drawing, too.
Q. What don't you like so far?
A. I don't really like doing things that are so long in my school.
Q. Like copying letter exercises.
A. I like doing that. I also like sitting in here.
Q. Felix was in there earlier, right?
A. Yeah.
Q. What were you guys doing in there?
A. We were having fun and Felix was tasting some tree things. And I want you to hold these while I'm in the bush. Can you? <He hands me some leaves torn up into shreds.> Make sure it doesn't blow away. Keep a hand on it, okay?
Q. Can you not feed Felix things that you find growing in the yard?
A. Why?
Q. It might make him sick.
A. I know.
Q. Is that like a secret clubhouse?
A. It's kind of like a thing that people sit in and they enjoy here.
Q. So, like a deck?
A. Kind of.
Q. But in a bush.
A. Yeah.
Q. What did you and James do during nap today?
A. We did a couple things. I played in James' bed. I got sad a couple times when I was making some LEGO things. I also got sad when I was trying his reading light.
Q. Are you going to eat your supper in the bush?
A. No.
Q. Why not?
A. Because I don't think I can eat it in the bush. I think I'll need to come inside after that. I'm doing some work, you know what it is?
Q. No, what?
A. I'm splitting leaves. I'm picking off leaves and splitting them. Did my other leaves blow away yet?
Q. No.
A. Good

A Liturgy for Cleaning the Bathrooms

For I will take you from among the Gentiles, gather you from all the lands and bring you into your own land. Then I will sprinkle clean water on you and you will be clean; I will cleanse you from all your filthiness and from all your idols. Ezekiel 36:24-25

Then He poured water into the basin, and began to wash the disciples' feet and to wipe them with the towel with which He was girded. So He came to Simon Peter. He said to Him, "Lord, do You wash my feet?" Jesus answered and said to him, "What I do you do not realize now, but you will understand hereafter." John 13:5-10

'But the man who is unclean and does not purify himself from uncleanness, that person shall be cut off from the midst of the assembly, because he has defiled the sanctuary of the LORD; the water for impurity has not been sprinkled on him, he is unclean. Numbers 19:20

O God who made us in your image, we thank you for giving us sweat glands, intestines, body hair, and buttocks. You send us the waters from on high and your Spirit moves over the waters of the deep that we might purify ourselves by the cleansing of water and present ourselves to you and to one another as clean. We thank you that we make ourselves more human by making ourselves clean. We praise you that by your Son we are made truly clean, and we acknowledge his teaching that our hearts must be cleaned before our bodies.

In this room where our loved ones will come to clean their bodies, may their hearts be gladdened and cleaned as well. Strengthen my knees as they bend and my elbows as they press to purify this room of cleansing. Check my spirit when I grumble that I am too important or educated for the scrubbing of toilets and teach me the example of your son, who emptied himself and became a servant. Bless all those who scour shit for their daily bread. Bless all those who don't remember their last washing or don't know when the next one will come. Bless all those for whom clean water is a precious luxury, and help us to remember that we mustn't waste it.

In purifying this room may we make a holy space for your holy people, O cleansing God. We ask this in the name of your son Jesus, who reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God for ever and ever. Amen.

Room Switch (Or, Baseboard Cleaning Part 3)

I have not yet walked upstairs at midnight, having just driven back from some far away city after a late night concert, shuffled into the dark room with my tie unknotted and a glass of scotch in hand, kicked off my shoes, and sat down on James.

But one of these nights I'm going to do just that, because we switched rooms.

James and Owen now have our big "master" bedroom, and J and I have moved ourselves out over the garage. So far everyone loves it.

We decided that we didn't have enough stuff to justify the big room. It was mostly empty, and all we really need are a bed, two end tables, a treadmill, and a dresser.

James and Owen, meanwhile, have a beautiful blank hardwood canvas to cover with a bazillion LEGOs and Hot Wheels. Actually, no to that. Picking up the LEGOs from their room was a traumatic enough experience for everyone that we decided to change up the rules about which toys they can have out. No matter what we moved, whether it was an old baseboard heater, a dresser drawer full of jewelry and nail polishes, or a crate full of library books, it was sure to have at least a dozen LEGO pieces at the bottom of it. In Owen's pants drawer we actually found a fully-assembled LEGO Jurassic Park jeep that he had apparently hidden (to keep it away from Felix) and then forgotten about before anyone could disassemble it and throw it into the collective heap.

Here were the major challenges of moving rooms:
-Scotch tape everywhere. Literally whole rolls worth of scotch tape to be peeled off of floors, windows, walls, doors, and furniture. A blanket ban is now in effect. Those kids are never allowed to have their own roll of scotch tape again.

-Stickers everywhere. Mostly in horribly hard to reach places like right at the baseboard level underneath the bunk beds, or in the corners of the walls where they meet the ceilings.

-Children that stand right in front of where you're about to step as soon as you pick up a heavy piece of furniture and only get out of the way when you threaten to set the bedframe down on top of them.

-Finding discrete ways to throw away half-broken toys that you know the kids would want to keep if they saw them but would never have any chance of actually playing with again.

The project ended up taking two full days, the first of which was entirely peeling off strips of tape and stickers. But we really are all happy with how it turned out. And do you know why it's such a remarkable thing that I could accidentally walk into James and Owen's room and mistake it for my own?

Because, at the moment, the floor isn't covered in LEGOs.

Square Footage

One of the childhood experiences that J and I both went through was our parents asking "where are we going to put all these kids?"

For J, it meant that her family sold their "in-town" little home as the kids grew bigger and built a gorgeous 4 bedroom house on the top of a rural hill several miles away. She helped to roof, paint, and finish the floors herself.

For my family, it meant remodeling the kitchen and adding a large extra room above it. These were huge quality of life improvements for our family--no one was sleeping three to a room, there was an extra bathroom installed in what became my parent's new bedroom, my mother finally had space to turn around in her own kitchen without bumping into a teenager, and everyone finally had a little bit of privacy.

There are many EXCELLENT reasons for needing more space than your standard three bedroom (i.e., our current house) offers. But I'm thinking out loud about how good OUR reasons would be for needing more space.

I suspect that there has been some cultural creep in the American assumptions about how much square footage per person a household needs. According to an AEI study the median new house size has increased over 1,000 square feet per home since 1973 to almost 2,500 sq ft. (Our house, by the way, is definitely not that big.) At the same time, average household size has decreased from 3.01 to 2.54 persons over the same time frame. More space, less people. My growing up experience of forever sharing a room with a sibling (or, in some cases, more than one) would be unthinkable in the way we design and inhabit homes. (Or, at least, new homes.)

Things aren't too different in Canada, apparently, with the average square footage coming in around 2,000 sq ft per new home, and houses in Australia might actually be bigger, depending on which study you use. But in the UK (818 sq ft), France (1206 sq ft), Italy (872 sq ft), or poor tiny-homed Russia (614 sq ft) you have to somehow withstand your family in more confined quarters. (The lowest household size of those countries, by the way, is France, at 2.38 persons per household.)

We've tried to rethink a number of assumptions in the way we run our house--should we own a TV? Should our kids' primary social circle be members of their peer group? Is going to the same church really necessary? What's the point of a silverware drawer? Or of owning fewer mouthpieces than there are days of the month?

Now we are trying to figure out whether privacy and an isolated space is actually important for a teenager or not. We can survive this phase in our current house. We can probably have college kids come back to our house and get along for a week using just the one bathroom. But could we survive three teenage boys in 1400 sq ft? And (this is the part where it gets really juicy) IF (that's a BIG and in no way committal IF), IF we had another child at some point (not anytime soon) could we be a household of six in 1400 sq ft?

Survivors of teenage-boy-parenting, this would be a good time to hear your advice.

Clippings

I haven't finished A Gentleman in Moscow yet, but I checked Amor Towle's other book out of the library within reading a chapter of this one so that I could put it in my queue right away.

-"How would a princess spend her day?"
"Like any young lady," answered the Count. With a nod of the head, the girl encouraged him to continue. "In the morning, she would have lessons in French, history, music. After her lessons, she might visit with friends or walk in the park. And at lunch she would eat her vegetables."
"My father says that princesses personify the decadence of a vanquished era."
The Count was taken aback. "Perhaps a few," he conceded. "But not all, I assure you."
She waved her fork. "Don't worry. Papa is wonderful and he knows everything there is to know about the workings of tractors. But he knows absolutely nothing about the workings of princesses."

-From among them, Nina picked up what looked like a delicate spade with a plunger and an ivory handle. Depressing the lever, Nina watched as the two opposing blades opened and shut, then she looked to the Count in wonder. "An asparagus server," he explained. "Does a banquet really need an asparagus server?" "Does an orchestra need a bassoon?" And Nina returned it gently to the shelf.

-"So," said the Count, "are you looking forward to your visit home?" "Yes, it will be nice to see everyone," said Nina. "But when we return to Moscow in January, I shall be starting school." "You don't seem very excited by the prospect." "I fear it will be dreadfully dull," she admitted, "and positively overrun with children." The Count nodded gravely to acknowledge the indisputable likelihood of children in the schoolhouse.

-As yet unchallenged, somnolence continued to cast its shadow over sights and sensations, over forms and formulations, over what has been said and what must be done, lending each the insubstantiality of its domain. But when the Count opened the small wooden drawer of the grinder, the world and all it contained were transformed by that very envy of the alchemists--the aroma of freshly ground coffee. In that instant, darkness was separated from light, the waters from the lands, and the heavens from the earth. The trees bore fruit and the woods rustled with the movement of the birds and beasts and all manner of creeping things.

From Circe (Madeline Miller)
"Will you tell me, what is a mortal like?" It was a child's question, but he nodded gravely. "There is no single answer. They are each different. The only thing they share is death. You know the word?" "I know it," I said. "But I do not understand." "No god can. Their bodies crumble and pass into earth. Their souls turn to cold smoke and fly to the underworld. There they eat nothing and drink nothing and feel no warmth. Everything they reach for slips from their grasp." A chill shivered across my skin. "How do they bear it?" "As best they can."

From Endure (Alex Hutchinson)
-That lesson, he recalled, stuck with him--first as an athlete and later as a scientist: "You have to teach athletes, somewhere in their careers, that they can do more than they think they can."

-Even the humblest Kenyan runner, he noticed, wakes up every morning with the firm conviction that today, finally, will be his or her day. They run with the leaders because they think they can beat them, and if harsh reality proves that they can't, they regroup and try again the next day. And that belief, fostered by the longstanding international dominance of generations of Kenyan runners, becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.

-Researchers in Scandinavia have recently shown that glycogen stores in your muscles don't just act as energy reservoirs; they also help individual muscle fibers contract efficiently That means your muscles will weaken as you burn through your glycogen stores, sapping your strength long before you're actually out of fuel. In effect, your muscles have a cunning self-defense mechanism that's totally independent of the brain, the equivalent of having your car's maximum speed linked to the level of its fuel gauge. Moreover, they'll preferentially burn some of the glycogen within the muscle before turning to glucose from your bloodstream--which means, in practical terms, that all the Gatorade in the world won't stave off fatigue indefinitely.

From What the Dog Saw (Malcolm Gladwell)
-We shouldn't be raising standards. We should be lowering them, because there is no point in raising standards if standards don't track with what we care about. Teaching should be open to anyone with a pulse and a college degree--and teachers should be judged after they have started their jobs, not before.

-The trick to finding ideas is to convince yourself that everyone and everything has a story to tell. I say trick but what I really mean is challenge, because it's a very hard thing to do. Our instinct as humans, after all, is to assume that most things are not interesting. We flip through the channels on the television and reject ten before we settle on one.

From Rabbit is Rich (John Updike)
-From a certain angle the most terrifying thing in the world is your own life, the fact that it's yours and nobody else's.

-How can you respect the world when you see it's being run by a bunch of kids turned old?

-He doesn't see what Harry sees in [golf]--infinity, an opportunity for infinite improvement.

From Rabbit Redux (John Updike)
-Nothing feels worse than other people's good times.

-There is that scent in the air, of going back to school, of beginning again and reconfirming the order that exists. He wants to feel good, he always used to feel good at every turning of the year, every vacation or end of vacation, every new sheet on the calendar; but his adult life has proved to have no seasons, only changes of weather, and the older he gets, the less weather interests him.

From Enlightenment Now (Steven Pinker)
-It's not that Goldilocks is always right and that the truth always falls halfway between two extremes. It's that current societies have winnowed out the worst blunders of the past, so if a society is functioning halfway decently--if the streets aren't running with blood, if obesity is a bigger problem than malnutrition, if the people who vote with their feet are clamoring to get in rather than racing for the exits--then its current institutions are probably a good starting point (itself a lesson we can take from Burkean conservatism). Reason tells us that political deliberation would be most fruitful if it treated government more like scientific experimentation and less like an extreme-sports competition.

From The Sense of Style (Steven Pinker)
-Hanlon's Razor: Never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity.

-Researchers are apt to lose sight of whom they are writing for, and narcissistically describe the obsessions of their guild rather than what the audience really wants to know.

-Classic writing, with its assumption of equality between writer and reader, makes the reader feel like a genius. Bad writing makes the reader feel like a dunce.

-The early bird gets the worm, for example, is plain. The early bird gets the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese is classic. Classic style overlaps with plain and practical styles.

Artwork

The whiteboard in the adult lounge is supposed to be for my choir.

Back when I started as the choir director, I would write the rehearsal order up on the white board. I would also note any hymn numbers that we needed to go over and any changes to the upcoming schedule.

Then I started bringing a little bundle in a carseat with me on Sunday mornings, and eventually the bundle was up and crawling around between the altos and sopranos (all of whom were convinced that James regarded them as an auxilary grandparent), and then he was up and walking and conducting along with me.

James was the most restrained with the whiteboard. As an artist he only had two major phases--carwashes and hockey rinks. For the first few years of his drawing career he would only draw the Royal Carwash that we lived next to on Clover Street. First the attendants shouting neutral, then the spish-spish, then the wipe-wipe, then the wee-ooh, wee-ooh, then the rinse, then the bubbles, then the rinse. Simple.

James was also the most responsible about putting caps back on markers when he was done, although I still regularly found dry erase markers almost entirely dried out a week after he'd hidden them behind the piano. Owen, I think, leaves them out to ruin on purpose.

The hockey phase was slightly more interesting. He would change up the teams that were playing, but the basic features of the arena were always the same.

Owen has been a free spirit, artistically, from the beginning. He began by drawing on himself and his Sunday clothes, and then to copying James' hockey arenas. He progressed next to repeated letter Os, and then to his whole name, and then to whatever James had been talking about/obsessing over for that week.

Felix joined in at the earliest age, probably because both of his older brothers were coloring the white board as soon as they'd finished their morning laps. (As soon as we arrive at church every Sunday they tear around the empty building at full speed for about 10 minutes.) Felix could barely reach the bottom edge of the white board when he first started drawing, and more than once I had to remove a marker to keep him from sucking on it. He mostly, according to Owen, draws grass.

It's become an expectation now for my choir to survey their weekly artwork before they look at the rehearsal instructions. I think, for them, it's a little bit like seeing what the Google doodle of the day is going to be. Owen announced his masterpiece from atop a chair this week and pointed to show the finer details.

"It's Darth Vader getting kicked in the penis. It's funny, because he's being kicked in his penis."

In other artwork news, Felix made a Jackson Pollock painting on our living room this evening using nothing but his stomach acid, a recently consumed bottle of milk, and some sort of flu strain. We acknowledged out loud when we bought our lovely and expensive new couch that one of the kids would eventually throw up on it. I think we were both surprised when it wasn't Owen. Felix is now putting a towel on his head and sitting on a quarantine blanket in the library. His George is in the dryer for the third night running. (Mud and water incidents, unrelated)

Highlights from the Last Two Weeks

-Visiting Smith grandparents on a perfect day and watching the great-grands push toys around in their driveway. ("Burn rubber, boys!")

-Watching the pike swimming in Johnson Creek and throwing acorns off the dock at the frogs to try to make them hop

-A spectacular called shot by J. After having looked for the Michelle Obama biography during every library visit for the last three months in vain, she looked at me on the way into the Fairport library and said casually (but confidently) "It's going to be here. Today's the day I get it." And so it came to pass

-Eating at the Hojack shack in Lyndonville with Grandma and Grandpa Smith. Poutine, hot dogs and hamburgers, and then huge ice cream sundaes while the kids bounced around the playground and made friends with the other summer vacationing little ones.

-Trail running twice with Oliver in the early mornings before he had to head in to work

-Sorting out all the old clothes in the basement and finding homes for random pairs of boots, mittens, and onesies that have a proper bin but have sat out on their own for several months to several years

-Getting a beer with Sam and Korina at O'Lacy's and trying to convince the boys that chicken ramakis aren't spicy

-Submitting James' final 2nd grade paperwork to the school district and getting clearance to proceed with 3rd grade in the fall

-The best meal I've ever eaten. FLX table in Geneva, followed by walking around Geneva with Lucas and Melissa

-Discovering Amazing Grains salt bread at FLX table and then getting another loaf of it the next day from the bakery. Hot, chewy, pastry-flaky. I didn't know bread could be that good.

-Waiting for the mail to come with J's new pots and pans. (A gift card from a student plus birthday money)

-Netsin's on J's birthday with the kids, our first trip of the season

-Hiking up to the BMX jumps at the southern end of Tryon Park with the kids

-J's new birthday dress

-Grabbing brunch with a colleague who's moving to Cincinnati at the Parkside Diner up near Seabreeze

-Hiking to "Smith Island" in Tryon Park with the kids and throwing rocks in the stream with the kids for an afternoon

-Three visits up to Eastman Durand Park to sip wine or coffee (depending on the time of day) while the kids splashed in the lake and got sandy

Owen's Day in Fairport

We wanted to have an adventure this morning, but not a muddy one. That ruled out a hike in the woods. And not a sandy one, which ruled out the lake. But a walk along the canal sounded delightful to everyone, so we drove to Fairport and set out on a walk.

I.
Owen had a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. It started before we even left. We went to wash his hands in the bathroom and slipped on the stool. He got so mad that he screamed and started hitting the bathroom door.

Then he didn't want to hold hands crossing the street or walking in the parking lot, because James didn't have to hold hands. We wouldn't let him pester the man who was fishing by the canal either, and we wouldn't even let him try to fish or to give the man fishing advice when he found out that he hadn't caught any fish yet.

We didn't let him dance or run by the edge of the canal, either. He didn't even fall in. He was just close. But he didn't go in. We wouldn't let him on any of the boats that were tied up by the canal, even though no one was in them. Then we kept on pointing out interesting things for him to look at, but yelled at him when he was in the way of bicyclists and runners and not listening to us because he was looking at interesting things.

Also, Owen was very thirsty. And tired of walking. And Felix got to ride in the stroller because he was a baby, but Owen had to keep walking. And he couldn't share Mommy's water bottle because he had been sick recently, and that wasn't fair either.

And he didn't even step in dog poop. He just almost stepped in dog poop. But he didn't actually step in it.

When we got to the bakery Owen was very excited. He was so excited about the brownie that he told us all about it. And when we weren't listening to him right away he told us about it even louder. And then, when he saw a cookie that looked good, he told everyone about it so loudly that the woman at the cash register was leaning backwards and workers in the back were poking their heads out to see what was the matter. And we took forever to decide which loaf of bread we were going to get, and with all those cookies there, guess what? We didn't even get a cookie. A croissant isn't is as good, and Owen didn't get to eat it right away, even though he kept on reminding everyone that we SHOULD eat it. And there was bottled water there and it didn't have a price tag on it, so it MIGHT have been free, but we didn't even check to see if it was free.

Then Owen had to stop throwing handfuls of gravel into the canal, even though James was doing it first. And Owen hardly ever gets to be the leader, and we told him to knock it off when he kept on running in front of James. And James was standing where Owen wanted to stand, but we yelled at Owen when he shoved James out of the way. And was Owen allowed to make a soup in the swamp by the wetland walk? Nope.

Owen wanted to read the letters of the graffiti on the boardwalk, but we told him not to read those words. Then he was really tired and wanted to be carried, but we wouldn't carry him, even though we definitely would have carried Felix if he was that tired.

We got a drink at the library and Owen didn't get to press the button in the elevator. And then when Owen found so many great books that he couldn't carry them all, we told him to only get as many books as he could carry. It's hard to carry that many books! And there are so many good ones! Then we went in another store and there were SO MANY COOL THINGS that Owen wanted to show them to everyone, but all we would ever say was "Stop touching that, Owen." And then everyone laughed at him because he pointed at a dog biscuit and said that he wanted to eat it.

Then Owen finally got to eat the croissant, and he needed a wipe off from a baby wipe, but he had to just sit there feeling sticky because everyone else eats too slow. And he was still hungry, but we had to go to Wegmans to get milk for Felix, and Owen really wanted to be in the steering wheel cart with Felix until he remembered how much fun it is to walk in Wegmans and NOT be in the cart...but then we wouldn't let him out of the cart!

And then Owen remembered about how there are free cookies at Wegmans, but we were SO mean to him and said "no cookies," and Owen told Mommy he didn't want her to be in our family anymore, and that made everyone feel terrible. And when we got back home Daddy made Owen carry in a stack of library books but there were two grown-up books in Owen's stack and grown-up book are way bigger than kids books, and Owen dropped them on the ground and ran inside.

And then Owen's lunch didn't taste good, and Daddy said that he couldn't have ice cream unless he finished his lunch and we NEVER get ice cream except of feast days and everyone else had some but Owen didn't get any.

II.
I sat there, eating my ice cream, hardly tasting it. What was Owen actually guilty of, that he was missing out on the ice cream for? When J came out with dishes for everyone except for him he tore away from the table yelling about how this was the "worst day in the woyld" and then hid behind the sofa, appearing only once to make a finger gun and shoot it at us.

Yes, he was out of control now. No, we couldn't give him ice cream. But geez, were we on his case all morning for anything other than being four? Of course he was acting four. He was getting into all of the trouble that James has outgrown and that Felix isn't big enough to try yet. And of course he was loud. He's Owen. Getting on his case for being noisier than the rest of his soft-spoken and mild-mannered family is just punishing him for his personality.

Even the row over finishing his lunch wasn't fair. He was eating a piece of disgusting leftover pizza--no one else wanted it. And why was it disgusting? Because James got to got to a special book lunch without Owen and made a pizza with chicken, bleu cheese, and pineapple. Owen was getting punished for being forced to eat his brother's leftovers that everyone else had turned their noses up at.

I rubbed my forehead and went looking for him. He was hiding behind the couch.

"Owen? Owen, come out. I want to talk to you."
"I wish I had got to eat some ice cream."
"I know. Hey, listen. Do you think maybe you didn't do such a great job making choices today?"
"I kind of want us to have ice cream again tomorrow."
"Yeah, maybe. Are you going to try to make some better choices?"
"Yeah." The stony look in his eyes started to come down, and I wondered if he was welling up.
"I don't think I was very patient this morning with everything that happened. Can I try to do a better job being your Dad tomorrow, and you can try to do a better job--"
"I'm sorry, Daddy." (He was crying now) "I got so mad at you 'cause you made me carry the grown up books and I threw them on the ground on purpose."

I let him cry on my shoulder for a minute and J came over, kneeling down and ready for Owen to apologize to her.

He brightened right up.
"I forgive you, Mommy."

III.
The boys on watching Raiders of the Lost Ark

James: "Actually, Owen, the Romans had the Lost Ark last. They carried it back for the Roman Empire after they sacked Jerusalem. So I think maybe some barbarians ended up with it after they stole it from Rome."

Owen: "Daddy, I wish the bad guys didn't have guns in Indiana Jones."
"You're right, it would be a lot less scary if--"
"No, I wish the good guys didn't have guns either."
"Well, it would be best if they didn't fight at--"
"I wish they all had LIGHTSABERS."

IV.
Owen: "It's so nice and peaceful up on the roof. I can see our neighbor's pool. I think we should go swimming in it."

Picture Dump, pt. 2

Felix in the rainforest habitat

Owen on the rope bridge

James playing with the tornado maker

The boys experimenting with a fulcrum

Playing with electricity

Felix got hold of one of these balls. He would have been happy to carry it around all day, but he screamed bloody murder when we put it back

Lubrication experiments

The big Rube Goldberg machine

Also would have been content to watch this all day

They both got so wet

The Felix show

I made them dress nicely when we were out. Owen looked like this within five minutes of being home

Tired baby, but he loved his souvenir shirt

James' note to me "in French."

Barnes and Noble trip with James to get some more schoolbooks, followed by dessert

Owen's unfortunate encounter with a mud puddle

Felix, upon being told he reeked of garlic. (He eats hummus by the tubful)

The result of Felix being given my phone to play with during a wedding

Excursion to West Bay Park for puddle and eventually creekwalking

Hitting the trails for the first time as an independent walker

Getting into the stream. Felix fell in immediately

Off on a hike. We went for almost two miles, which was great for Felix's first time

He still isn't quite able to get over these without help, though