A Timepiece for the Deluded

The "constant remembrance of death" for those who mistakenly believe the next minute or next appointment time is guaranteed. (The only thing missing is the "second hand" should say "Repent"). Buy it here

How to Close a Door

I read somewhere recently about a person who purposely tried to exercise patience in a parking lot. He waited for pedestrians to cross at the Walmart entrance. He let people turn left in front of him. He let someone take a parking space. And it was hard, even for ten minutes in a parking lot. It was an exercise in "living on purpose" rather than living according to habitual obliviousness to our passions and lack of virtue. The lesson was self awareness is a difficult spiritual discipline.

I recall about 30 years ago determining to live every moment of my life "on purpose", even to the discipline of how I walk when going somewhere. Since I've become Orthodox, I read that to live "in the present moment" and be totally aware of everything around us and our relationship to it is called one of the most difficult spiritual disciplines by the desert Fathers. I recall reading a Monk who said it took him a year to learn how to close a door at the monastery.

We are distracted by the past and future so easily... and not even the "distant future". We are going shopping, so we need to get there. We need to park close to the door, and soon. The "goal" supercedes the people we encounter even in such a mundane and ordinary experience as parking our car. It seems most of our life is lived in the past, the distant future or the immediate future, but seldom in the present moment.

One very simple and daily action that is a manifestation of our obliviousness to our surroundings is how we close a door. Some 30 years ago, I listened to my house. No matter what was going on, doors slammed shut, drawers in the kitchen slammed closed and the silverware rattled. Car doors rocked the car when pushed closed. Cabinet doors banged shut. I started being aware of my body, the force I used to close things and set things down, the quiet of the night, the peace of the house and the noise I created. When people were sleeping or on the phone or watching TV, I began to close the doors by turning the knob, pulling the door int0 place quietly and releasing the knob silently when the door was closed instead of the "slam, bang and click" we normally hear. I closed drawers and cabinet doors pushing them quietly into place. I didn't drop and slam dishes and pots and pans into the sink or on the countertops, but placed them there deliberately. At dinner I put down my cups and glasses and silverware deliberately rather than dropping them with a bang and clatter. These seemingly minor exercises translated into heightened awareness of the immediate moment. Ideally, the goal is that every second of my existence is gracefully "on purpose", with total awareness of what I am doing, who is in front of me, how I exist. I deal with reality as it is happening, not the reality I am thinking is in the near or far future, not the reality that lies behind me that has "conditioned me" to react in certain ways. Every movement, every event, more importantly, every person is a gift of God and to be accepted and reacted to with grace, peace and joy.

On the eve of Forgiveness Vespers, I think of all the relationships I have and the offenses I've y given by lack of attentiveness, the offenses I've taken because of my past baggage, the relationships that are tense and shallow because of resentments and living in the past and fear of the future. I thank God that He deals with me in the present moment. He forgives without resentment of the past. He loves without fear of the future. Every moment is a present reality and nothing is accidental, unconciously done, or without awareness.

May I always be faithful in the small, seemingly meaningless and inconspicuous things of my life. May I always live in full awareness, in absolute conciousness of everything that surrounds me. May the closing of a door, the setting down of a cup be a manifestation of grace, an act of peace and consideration, a silent witness to the awakening of my heart to the fullness of the relationship I have to all things.

The Things I Do for Money...

This is one of my recent projects. We're building 22 foot high walls in a warehouse. This is us sheetrocking part of the wall. Twelve foot sheetrock weighs about 125 pounds a sheet. It is a lot heavier at 55 than it was when I was 35 for some reason.


This is what Thomas (my helper) and I did today....The elevator control room needed a thirteen foot high one hour fire rated ceiling installed (two layers of 5/8" sheetrock on 16" centered metal framing.) We had two step ladders and an extention ladder in a 10 by 7 foot room that had 8 square feet of floor left showing due to transformers, hydraulic controllers, electrical panels etc.. That is Thomas standing on a ladder set on top of one of the control boxes. In the room there are 6 electrical panels, an air conditioner, the hydraulic controller with the open front that is two feet inside the door (note the warning sign...Thanks, Sparky!). To get up and down off of the control boxes and put ladders on top of them, then to frame and sheetrock the ceiling over the open panel, we had to set up an extention ladder 6 inches in front of the open panel and be careful to not back into it on the way up and down while carrying tools and sheetrock. We hung the ceiling in four foot by four foot sheets because there were so many pipes and conduits running through the room we couldn't get full pieces of drywall up in between them. As we say in construction: "This is why I make the BIG money!"
(This is Thomas measuring for the next piece of drywall to go up.)

Reading Lossky

This is an excerpt from Vladimir Lossky's "The Mystical Theology of the Eastern Church", the very first "Orthodox" book I ever read, which I found in the library at the Episcopal Church I was attending fifteen years ago. It had been checked out once in fifteen years. I still have it checked out.

"Here there appears an idea which one never finds in Dionysius, and which draws a line of demarcation between Christian mysticism and mystical philosophy of the neo-platonists. If Plotinus rejects the attributes proper to being in seeking to attain to God, it is not, as with Dionysius, on account of the absolute unknowability of God: and unknowability obscured by all which can be known in creatures. It is because in the realm of being, even at its highest levels, is necessary multiple: it has not the absolute simplicity of the One. The God of Plotinus is not incomprehensible by nature. If we can neither comprehend the One by discursive reason nor by intellectual intuition, it is because the soul, when it grasps and object by reason, falls away from unity and is not absolutely one." p. 30

As a priest once commented when I mentioned I was using Lossky's stuff for radio program material, "Well, Lossky lost me."

I recommend "The Mystical Theology of the Eastern Church" as a primer on the foundations of Orthodox theology. However, it IS a deep wade, a slow, frustrating read and something you probably will revisit several times as you get more "Orthodoxy" under your belt.

Here are my "Instructions for Reading Lossky"

Do not attempt to read Lossky under the influence of any medications, while operating heavy machinery, after a heavy meal or Vigil, or just before bedtime. Keep a large dictionary closeby. Reading out loud and very slowly helps. As with any exercise program or lifting heavy objects, do not attempt to lift too much at once... two to three sentences at a time to begin, then add short adjectival phrases and subordinate clauses as you get comfortable. You will find doing several reps (repetitions) of the same sentence will be necessary in the beginning to build up your stamina. Above all, cool down after Lossky with something light, like Gregory of Nyssa or Alexander Schmemman. If you experience brain strain, take three Motrin, and consult a spiritual father if the pain persists after 3 days.

Where Memes Go to Die

I've recently been "tagged" with a meme.

Just in case someone has been living under a blog rock, a meme (from what I've been told) is kind of like a "flattering nod/chain letter/networking tool/fun thing to get to know people" blogging game. Someone starts something like "Name the last five sauces you've spilled on your shirt in a restaurant, and the relationship to the person you were trying to impress..." and then "tags" other people who have blogs, who are then asked to tag other people, who are then asked to tag their blogging friends.

Unfortunately, the Orthodox blogosphere is a small town. So, if you are like me and kind of like an Amway "downline", by the time a meme gets to my blog, 93% of the Orthodox bloggers that I read (and there are only a few from what I see in other people's links) have been tagged. The other 7% of Orthodox blogs are written by folks who were probably the kids who used to sit on the benches at recess and play chess instead of tag, red rover or dodge ball... their blogs are just not "fun" places and a meme on their blog would be like singing "Up From the Grave He Arose" during the Paschal liturgy. So they are meme-resisitant by nature. Anyway, what that boils down to is my blog is kind of like the elephant graveyard, meme's tend to migrate here to die. Like all things, there is a finite number of human beings on earth to tag with anything. Its like Amway: what happens when everyone in the world is a downline?

So, here's the meme that I've been tagged with by a couple friends:

1. Pick up the nearest book ( of at least 123 pages). ("No cheating" was added by someone, probably so our inclination to either want to look smart, or humble or literate and peruse our library for an appropriate book that would present a good facade would be avoided).
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences.
5. Tag five people.

I didn't cheat, but on the other hand I was tempted to cheat...I wish I could have reached for something less pretentious sounding than Vladimir Lossky, like maybe Mad Magazine's 50 Years of Don Martin. But, since I've been working on our latest radio program series on "Essence and Energies" this was the closest book to my research desk.

So here is page 123 of "The Vision of God" by Vladimir Lossky.
In the state of union we know God at a higher level than intelligence- "nous"- for the simple reason that we do not know Him at all. We have here the entry into darkness (skotos), an entry concealed by the abundant light through which God makes Himself known in His beings. Knowledge is limited to what exists; now, as the cause of all being, God does not exist, or rather He is superior to all oppositions between being and non-being.

And welcome to the Meme Graveyard.

What is Wrong With This Picture?

No, it is not the cholesterol laden meatballs with sour cream, rolls and real butter.

Look closer.

You might think it is enough that we are constantly indoctrinated with post-modernism, relativism and humanism through movies, television, radio, music, art and magazines.

I'm eating supper and reach for KETCHUP...

On my supper table...lowly KETCHUP is now a billboard for the gospel of relativism and humanism: "YOU BE THE JUDGE" it teaches your children every time they pick it up. A small thing? Sure. But if you load enough pennies in a sack eventually it will weigh enough to crush someone.

I am reminded of a quote from "Platitudes Undone"

Holbrook Jackson writes: "No opinion matters finally: except your own."

to which GK Chesterton replies: "...said the man who thought he was a rabbit."

More My Speed

When I became Orthodox the "Prayer Rope" was a cool new "Orthodox badge". I asked my spiritual father about owning one and he said sure... keep it in your pocket in public. I was sorely disappointed but obeyed. After a few years of seeing people with prayer ropes used as jewelry, bracelets, necklaces, and ropes as long as jumper cables dragging on the floor as someone conspicuously whispers "O,Ljshskshmshymeashnnr" over and over during the Liturgy, I got the message. Its tough to wear one or use one in public both piously and unvaingloriously... (at least for me. Forgive my presumption in projecting MY impiety and my desire for attention on those whom I've judged over the years.)

That said, after 8 years I now wear three prayer ropes on my wrist and I'm sure I'll be judged according to the judgement with which I judge (sigh). Anyway, one was a gift from a dear friend from Mount Athos, a hundred tiny knots. The second was a gift too, a beautifully irregularly spaced twenty knot rope tied by the most innocent guileless young lady I know who had just begun tying prayer ropes and prayed for me while making it. But after ten years of trying to pray the Jesus Prayer, I have another gift. I finally own a prayer rope that actually represents the truth of my prayer life. It is my goal to truly use it once a day and actually say the Prayer without distraction, thoughts or an impure motive. Of course if I ever accomplish that, I suppose I couldn't tell about it could I? Dang.

Advertising and Theology

This is essentially the text for the newest Toyota dealer's radio ads here in the Phoenix metro area. It is lifted off of their website's "Guest Services" page:

More pampering while you wait

Our exclusive guest services area is nothing like you’ve ever seen! From a full-service nail salon, barbershop and shoeshine and massage salon, our new facility has something for everyone.

Book an appointment with a licensed cosmetologist to coincide with your vehicle service and save time out of your busy day.

Our exciting children’s play areas are equipped with a pirate ship and video games.

There are three customer lounges with large screen TVs and comfy couches so you can relax while we take care of your vehicle.

Catch up on some work in one of our wireless Internet computer stations.

We also offer shuttle bus service to and from Chandler Fashion Park so you can get some shopping in while we handle your vehicle.

This Changes Everything

In the radio spots there is a dramatic pause after all of the amenities and services are enumerated (including a massage parlor, a gourmet sandwich and fresh baked cookie shop, Edenic environments, among other things), then the announcer breathily whispers... "THIS CHANGES EVERYTHING!"

First of all, does anyone for a moment really believe that a car dealer offering a manicure and massage, a miniature Disneyland for A.D.D. kids who were dragged to their parent’s “car buying experience”, a gourmet sandwich shop, a TV set playing Dr. Phil, or a shuttle to a mall to kill time, or wi-fi for the workaholics or the internet addicted really changes EVERYTHING?... In what reality? In whose world? Is there really a planet or a universe that exists that will be radically altered because someone can now buy a car and have all of their passions, vanities, obsessions and delusions fed at the same time? The fact that someone even THOUGHT of this “tag line” and even THOUGHT that it would speak to a target market, and even THOUGHT that it sounded “punchy” or had ANY substance to it is utter insanity. It really should be the punch line to a Monty Python bit, or a wry, sarcastically delivered review of some inane and vapid reality show starring Paris Hilton (or whoever the equivalent du jour is).

But, no, someone really sold this as a serious ad to Toyota. Someone really thought it said something to a target market. And the sad and frightening reality is, it does speak to a real market.

The other sad reality is that this does not change anything, it merely AFFIRMS everything about THIS planet, universe, reality and existence. People are captivated by pleasure, ease, comfort, entertainment and the illusion of being cared for. The reality is the same reality that was presented to Eve in the garden: The fruit looked good to eat, it promised pleasure, and it was a painless shortcut to attainment of the goal of “fulfillment”. St. James calls it "the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes and the vainglory of life". The universe revolves around me, my desires, my wants, my comfort, and I deserve it all, .... after all, McDonalds has already told you that you DO deserve a break today, remember?

Like the Serpent, Toyota appeals to the passions and our vanity and presents us with the illusion that it is all about the customer, they care about our well-being, our comfort, our desires and needs. But in reality, they care about our dollar, not us. The promise of free pleasure and pampering, providing for our every fleshly and psychological desire is a snare. The reality is, the spiritually darkened human being is manipulated to extract the dollar. There is no true “pampering”, no concern for the person. It is manipulation and lies, an illusion presented for an ulterior motive. But the “market” believes them. And the “market” flocks to the dealership and eats the fruit.

But nothing changes.

Everything stays the same.

More Vintage Photos

Between my sojourn in the acapella churches of Christ and my conversion to the acapella Orthodox Church, I made a pit stop in the Episcopal Church where I could actually play a guitar in public. We did a couple fund raising dinners for the parish. We managed to put a decent band together with our multi talented choir members. This was circa 1994. This is me, the Wrong Reverend Stevie Ray, lead guitarist for "The Episcopresleyans". Our intro included among other things, "We asked ourselves, what would give this act some real class? And we thought, what do you see when you go to a symphony? MUSIC STANDS! ...." After the band member introductions I'd say in the "Cool Hand Luke" drawl, "What we have here is a failure to excommunicate."

I have to say, we tried this "schtick" at an Orthodox Church and ummmm.... Episcopalians are a whole lot more fun. We should have learned an Arabic version of "Radar Love". Oh well... WE had fun.

Old Photo Albums

...yield the strangest things.

This was taken in 1972. I was 20 and visiting my Grandparents in Cabot, Arkansas (just north of Little Rock). 1972. Little Rock. Arkansas....

I was sitting at a McDonalds, outside at a wooden picnic table eating a Big Mac and sweating so much my hair was dripping. It was probably 98 degrees and 90% humidity. I didn't think it wise to eat inside the way the diners were looking at me.

Can you say "Deliverance"?

Anyway, I'd been there maybe ten minutes and a police car pulls in and circles the parking lot once. Twice. Three times. Ring around the hippie.

The car stops at the curb and the cop gets out of his car. He was the "Southern cop cliche". Aviator sunglasses. Big gut. Swagger. He steps up to my table. I look up at him. He drawls, "Yew 'bout done?"

"Um...just about," I say half cheerfully, trying not to sound sarcastic.

He tugs at his belt as if his pants are going to fall down. "Mebbe yew didn't git it...Yew 'bout done?"

I got it. "Yessir, I'm done." I start wrapping my burger up and stuffing it in the bag.

"Good. " He looks around slowly and says staring off into space without looking at me, "It's kinda busy round here and we need places fer folks to sit."

I look around. I'm the only one sitting outside. "Yessir. I see that. I'll make room right away."

"Awright. And it stays pretty busy here, so I wouldn't come back anytime soon, y'hear?"

"Got it. Thanks for the warning."

I get in my 1968 Volkswagon Beetle with the smiling sunrise painted over the back license plate light and head to my grandparent's house. He sits in his car and watches me drive away. I watch my rear view mirror to make sure he stayed put.

I suppose I was lucky he didn't see a tail light out or something that might warrant an arrest somewhere along the ten mile stretch of highway between Little Rock and Cabot.

A gOD CALLED "EARTH"

(Thanks to Benedict's blog for the article)

Had Toni Vernelli gone ahead with her pregnancy ten years ago, she would know at first hand what it is like to cradle her own baby, to have a pair of innocent eyes gazing up at her with unconditional love, to feel a little hand slipping into hers - and a voice calling her Mummy.

But the very thought makes her shudder with horror.

Because when Toni terminated her pregnancy, she did so in the firm belief she was helping to save the planet.

At the age of 27 this young woman at the height of her reproductive years was sterilised to "protect the planet".

Incredibly, instead of mourning the loss of a family that never was, her boyfriend (now husband) presented her with a congratulations card.

While some might think it strange to celebrate the reversal of nature and denial of motherhood, Toni relishes her decision with an almost religious zeal.

"Having children is selfish. It's all about maintaining your genetic line at the expense of the planet," says Toni, 35.

"Every person who is born uses more food, more water, more land, more fossil fuels, more trees and produces more rubbish, more pollution, more greenhouse gases, and adds to the problem of over-population."

While most parents view their children as the ultimate miracle of nature, Toni seems to see them as a sinister threat to the future.

"The only person who understood how I felt was my first husband, who didn't want children either. We both passionately wanted to save the planet - not produce a new life which would only add to the problem."

But when she was 25, disaster struck.

"I discovered that despite taking the Pill, I'd accidentally fallen pregnant by my boyfriend. I was horrified. I knew straight away there was no option of having the baby. I went to my doctor about having a termination, and asked if I could be sterilised at the same time. I didn't like having a termination, but it would have been immoral to give birth to a child that I felt strongly would only be a burden to the world. I've never felt a twinge of guilt about what I did, and have honestly never wondered what might have been.”

"I've never doubted that I made the right decision. Ed and I married in September 2002, and have a much nicer lifestyle as a result of not having children. We love walking and hiking, and we often go away for weekends. Every year, we also take a nice holiday - we've just come back from South Africa. We feel we can have one long-haul flight a year, as we are vegan and childless, thereby greatly reducing our carbon footprint and combating over-population.”

Meet Sarah and Mark

Most young girls dream of marriage and babies. But Sarah dreamed of helping the environment - and as she agonised over the perils of climate change, the loss of animal species and destruction of wilderness, she came to the extraordinary decision never to have a child.

"I realised then that a baby would pollute the planet - and that never having a child was the most environmentally friendly thing I could do."

Mark adds: "Sarah and I live as green a life a possible. We don't have a car, cycle everywhere instead, and we never fly. We recycle, use low-energy light bulbs and eat only organic, locally produced food. In short, we do everything we can to reduce our carbon footprint. But all this would be undone if we had a child. That's why I had a vasectomy. It would be morally wrong for me to add to climate change and the destruction of Earth. Sarah and I don't need children to feel complete. What makes us happy is knowing that we are doing our bit to save our precious planet."

________________________________________________

The Earth has become the god of the new millennium. We have ceased to subdue it, be stewards of it, reverence it as “our mother” as the Hypokoae of Matins in the 8^th tone calls it. Toni sacrificed her first born child to the Earth-god and eats vegan (which apparently pleases the meat-gods.) People mutilate themselves in order to “save” the Earth-god and not displease it by “adding to its problems”. In return the Earth-god rewards them with a “much nicer lifestyle” and a long vacation every year in a vehicle that burns thousands of gallons of fossil fuel and is manufactured by god knows what materials stolen from the god's skin, in a fancy hotel built and staffed by parasites and "problems" begotten by irreligious reproducers, has taken up land formerly occupied by trees and is probably a huge gaudy pimple on the face of the god. Is this is the eco-fundamentalist’s version of the prosperity gospel?... we “serve our god” and are rewarded with a nice lifestyle and a vacation to our beach house in Cabo? All false religion shares a common delusion about the gods, it seems.

It is interesting that in our innate religiousness and hubris as human beings, even in moral lunacy, we still use religious language to define our relationship to the gods and the material world. We are now the saviors, but we are saving our own god by sacrificing our humanity on its altar. Who is the true god here? The earth has become the fabled volcano god of the pagans, if we add to its problems and don’t please it, it will kill us. Sacrifice your virgin children even before they leave the womb, don’t eat the forbidden foods. Humanity is a pollution, a parasite on the god. The human being is not an icon of a God not made of dirt, who has given humanity dominion over the dirt. Have we been good stewards? Perhaps not. Are we self centered consumers? Ask Adam and Eve. Is the answer to treat the earth as if it is our personal savior with a bad attitude toward us that needs saving from ourselves?

Those who have no God have no cohesive theology of a "fall". We know something... everything needs saving. People are no more important than a rock or a tree, but there is still a concept of "salvation" of the cosmos albeit the cosmos is only the immediate environment we occupy. The earth god cannot save, neither can we save the god. In short, Eden cannot be reinstated by human effort. Eden did not save humanity in the beginning, human beings will not save it in the end. But the part they have right is that it needs saving and it takes a God who is human and a part of the creation to do that.

Woe to him who says to a piece of wood, 'Awake!' To a mute stone, 'Arise!'
And that is your teacher? Behold, it is overlaid with gold and silver,
And there is no breath at all inside it. (Habakkuk 2:19)

Who says to a tree, 'You are my father,' And to a stone, 'You gave me birth.'
They have turned their back to Me… (Jeremiah 2:27)

Random Thoughts

It seems like I spend more time commenting on other people's blogs than I do writing on my own lately. I kind of have "blog envy" of those who post regular and thoughtful essays on deep theological, sociological, political and cultural themes. Me? I just seem to be wandering through life a day at a time and any thoughts I have during the day that have any "pith" to them seem to vanish by the time I get home from work and sit down at the computer. I read an article recently (I can't remember where...) that more people are stopping blogging than are starting now. I'd imagine there are a lot of folks like me who are in the middle of the road and have "blog guilt" for having a blog but not posting on it regularly after starting off in a sprint and posting every day in the beginning. Maybe most of us are figuring out that other people's lives are more interesting than ours and other people are saying what we are thinking much more eloquently than we can and other people are thinking of stuff that we aren't smart enough to think of. So, what else is there to blog about then?

At 55 and being a fairly "public" person for most of my adult life as a teacher, minister, counselor, writer, radio program host, reader, catechist, blogger, etc. I'm finding myself becoming more reclusive and quiet and less willing to give an opinion, advice and to be in the spotlight. Any more I do it because I'm asked/told, or because I started a work and need to finish it, or it just comes with the territory of a gift I have and a responsibility I've accepted in order to contribute to a bigger picture... but not because I wanted it or sought it out. In a lot of ways I'd love to be anonymous, silent and still. I look at the abbots and abbesses, priests and monks I know and all the responsibilities they have and I wonder how they keep their balance.
Even in the monasteries there is no true silence and true stillness and anonymity. After all the visits to monasteries I've made, I know the monasteries are an even more intense, busy, servile, and public life in many ways. I also know I'm not qualified to be a hermit because I'm not perfected in my love for mankind in general or even specific people.

In a lot of ways my focus has narrowed over the past few years. I don't concern myself much with "the big picture" in any arena of life... politics, Church issues, culture, economics etc. I sometimes listen to talk radio and the SALEM station's talk radio tag line is "Where YOUR opinion counts!" .... ummmm, yeah, right... it counts for Arbitron ratings and higher advertising rates. A media empire is being built on people's narcissism and the illusion that anyone really cares what they think, including the talk show hosts. The reality is, no ones' opinions really count for much of anything, even if someone asks for them. I know that sounds bleak and negative, but in the end all that matters is Truth, not anyone's opinions. I often wonder lately what our conversations would sound like if all we did was "speak the truth in love". Especially when Christ stood silent before Pilate when He was asked "What is truth?"

TV

It occurred to me today: Why do you have to pay extra for "upgraded" TV in order to get the "degraded" programming?

Evil Twin

My evil twin on the left..... of course.

My Mother Was Right...

I'm worthless.....

My blog is worth $0.00.
How much is your blog worth?

The Tortilla of the Beast

I found this in Fry's tonight.... I suppose the Beast eats chimichangas. Why not?

How Long???

For those who just check in to see if there's anything new.... I'm still alive, but INSANELY busy the last month or more. There's a lot to blog about but I'm only getting a few hours sleep a night as it is. Keep checking back. God willing I'll get some time to blog soon. Good night.

Mother's Day Prime Rib Recipe

Since the Apostle's Fast is drawing to a close, I thought I'd post another recipe. The men of our Mission Church hosted a prime rib and champagne luncheon for all the women of our Church on Mother's Day. I cooked the roast and it got rave reviews from some pretty critical carnivores.


It seemed a lot of other people had the same idea and a true prime rib was not to be found in Phoenix, so I ended up with two 6-8 pound rib eye roasts from Costco. Someone else has since fixed this with a tenderloin roast and said it was good too. SO.... here's the recipe. It's worth the work!

S-P's Mother's Day Rib Eye Roast

Place the roast on a wire rack over a cake baking pan.

Pour balsamic vinegar over it and rub it in all around the roast on all sides.

Cup your hand and pour about an inch and a half diameter mound of coarse sea salt in it. (I bought the coarse Mediterranean Sea Salt grinder from Costco and had to break the top off, but any VERY coarse sea salt or Kosher salt should do fine... DO NOT use fine table salt or grind the salt onto the roast, it HAS to be put on coarse.)

Sprinkle the salt liberally and uniformly over the roast on the one side and pat the salt down lightly so it stays put. Turn the roast, pour another mound of salt and salt the other side and ends. (It looks like a lot of salt, but don't worry, this is what it takes for the prime rib crust).

Prepare a mixture of two heaping teaspoons of Montreal Steak seasoning, a heaping teaspoon of red chili powder, a level teaspoon of paprika, a level teaspoon of garlic powder. Sprinkle this over the roast on all sides, covering evenly and liberally (but don't use all of it...that's too much, you can use the leftover for steak seasoning or making the prime rib "Outback Style" when serving it... see the end of the recipe below).

Take a squeeze bottle of honey and drizzle honey over the whole roast in lines about a half inch apart creating a "checkerboard pattern" with the honey.

Cover with foil, put in the refrigerator and let marinate for about 8 hours (overnight).

Take the roast out of the refrigerator at least TWO HOURS before cooking to bring to room temperature (this is important!)

Set the oven to 200 -225 degrees and put the roast in on the wire rack over the cake pan you used to prepare it on, leave it uncovered.

Let cook for about 6 hours (depending on the size of the roast... the large one today was about 8 pounds).

You cannot use "rule of thumb minutes per pound" to cook a roast. BUY A MEAT THERMOMETER! Get an "instant or rapid read" thermometer at the grocery store for about $9.00. Check the roast after about 3 hours and keep an eye on the internal temperature.

No matter what the thermometer recipes say, rare is 110 (NOT 130-40!), medium rare is 120, medium is 130, etc.) You can always cook it more, you can't uncook it.

Remove the roast from the oven and let it sit for about 10-15 minutes to rest before carving.

(You can carve the roast and heat a cast iron skillet (it has to be "smoking hot"! and sear the meat to make it a little more done if necessary...if you sprinkle it with a little of the leftover Montreal seasonings and sear it in a smoking hot skillet with a dab of butter, that's "Outback Style".)

Bon apetit!

Peach Cobbler

Grace asked for a peach cobbler recipe on her blog, so rather than just post it as a comment to her blog, I figger'd I'd share it with the blogosphere. This is a "granny" recipe from Texas and is goooood!

Quick Cobbler
4 cups berries or peaches
1 1/2 cups flour
1 stick of butter
2 1/2 cups sugar divided
2 tablespoons baking powder
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1 cup milk
1 tablespoon vanilla
cornstarch paste

Melt butter in 9x13 baking dish. Meanwhile mix fruit with 1/2 cup sugar in a saucepan and cook until syrupy. (An s-p tweak: Substitute 3-4 heaping tablespoons of brown sugar for part of the white sugar to the peach cobbler) Add cornstarch paste to thicken (1/8 cup cold water with two tablespoons cornstarch added and mixed). Set aside.

Combine flour, remaining 2 cups sugar and baking powder. Mix in the vanilla and milk. Pour the fruit into the baking dish over the melted butter. Sprinkle the fruit with the lemon juice. Pour the batter over the fruit. Bake at 350 degrees until brown and a toothpick comes out clean. (About 40 minutes)

Enjoy!

Martrys of the Boxer Rebellion

June 11. Commemoration of the Holy Martyrs of the Boxer Rebellion.
It is strange how the communion of the Saints connects us to our past, to the Church and to ourselves.