Beginnings and endings
And we have our differences -- we don't sing the Doxology at (what part of the service was it?), but we have a "Children's Recessional" between the Announcements and the Sermon. Complete with banner to lead the children out to Sunday School. These things will get resolved in short order, in the usual process in which the priest first learns our ways and later makes changes. We did get a small addition today that I think might come from the Anglican Missal (I have never looked at it -- we've long been a "straight 1928 BCP" church), but enough folks already knew it that it won't be a problem and the "Lord, I am not worthy that Thou should(e)st come under my roof..." is a good reminder.
But for me this was a hugely mixed day.
I started off rather a bit down over some potentially bad work-related news. Then, before the service I learned of the passing of a parishioner (former? they'd moved away but still considered St. Bartholomew's their home) last week. Fr. Davis mentioned something in his remarks in or before his sermon about participating in our journey -- but it wasn't until Coffee Hour and after that I learned that we have two members in hospice care. Paul Sr, a long-time member from our early days who may not live out the week, and Jean who joined us in the past year or three (or so). At least for Fr. Davis' convenience they're in the same hospice (and if there is something Seattle excels in beyond rain and gloom, it's its healthcare -- including hospice).
It should have been a day of joy, but it wasn't. And it wasn't helped later by stories from Iranian friends of what is being done to their family, friends and acquaintances who stand up in even the smallest way against the regime there. Some are Christians.
You're not likely to see any of this in the American press.
I beg your prayers for all these folks, including Corrine, Paul Sr. and Jean.