TRAIN WRECK
You know how there are certain incidents that shouldn’t fascinate you but do? Auto accidents, disastrous political gaffes, celebrities making public jackasses of themselves on YouTube, that kind of thing? You know that you really should keep moving (there but for the grace of God go I and all that) but you just can’t make yourself turn away.
A correspondent of David Virtue just witnessed something like that. Unfortunately, what this correspondent saw was the consecration of new Washington, DC Episcopal Bishop Mariann Budde. Selections follow. Before you settle in, you might want to get yourself something enjoyable to eat and/or drink because this is good:
The service focused on bringing together many diverse musical elements with the opening processional done by a three-man group of Native Americans called Southwest Eagle Dancers. The lengthy constant drumming and chanting created a distinct tension as listeners wondered what religious tradition they were from. Clergy processed in to the syncopated drums and no singing.
Not to worry. At this point, the cathedral’s pipe organ decided to take things into its own capable hands. Or pipes. Or something.
Before the Episcopal Church bishops and Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori walked in, the sounds of the pipe organ began the introduction and first verse of “I bind unto myself today.” After the second verse, the organ dropped out and the singing stopped and an eerie silence filled the Cathedral only relieved by the sound of walking feet. Everyone began to look at each other as the silence grew to over one minute. The organ started with verse three, played about four measures and abruptly broke off. Another long and uncomfortable silence began during which time the bishops continued their tense procession for another two minutes. Then the next sound heard to the congregation with its many empty seats was a tinny, electric keyboard. The hymn finished with this bizarre musical accompaniment that was too quiet for the hymn. Everyone was murmuring in speculation about what happened but no answers were given.
Which is often a very good thing. What you don’t know won’t hurt you and all that.
Presiding Bishop Jefferts Schori began the service with the declarations of the election of Budde (who was ordained by John Shelby Spong.) During the Litany for Ordination, the prayer was being read “For Katharine, our presiding Bishop, and for all bishops, priests, and deacons that they may be filled with your love…” when something seemed to fall upon the pipe organ keys hitting simultaneously about three octaves of notes, creating a tremendously large sound of dissonance, overwhelming all spoken words and creating a sound like something from a horror movie. Everyone quickly stopped speaking and looked at one another aghast. A woman sitting in the row behind me said, “What is the Spirit doing?”
Be careful what questions you ask because they might get answered. But to continue.
But the service became more and more confused. Dr. Paul Budde, husband to Mariann, read a long poem called “Coleman’s Bed” by David Whyte, not an accessible poem that seemed entirely out of place in a liturgical service. One line reads, “Ghost then, to where others, in this place, have come before, under the hazel, by the ruined chapel, below the cave where Coleman slept.” What was this? The only connection seemed to be odd ruins with the mangled liturgy at this point in a Cathedral whose entire ceiling was covered by netting in case more things dropped down on the congregation.
The sermon seems to have increased the Twilight Zone-ish feel.
But wait, the worst was still yet to come. The Rev. Linda Kaufman, a close friend of Mariann, gave the sermon. Kaufman started off with a reference to her own “beautiful and elegant wife” and the advice she had received about this sermon. This preacher went to describe Mariann in seminary as rich, thin, very liberal and driving a Volvo. Kaufman went on to make jokes about her weight and described herself several times as “fat” and she was surprised that the thin Mariann would be her friend. To make jokes about fat people was inappropriate to the maximum but Kaufman did this several times. Instead of the scriptures, Kaufman preached about the poem and told Mariann in a loudly yelling voice “to be hospitable, even to the stranger to you.” She offered no ideas about what this meant and left the image hanging out there of the wealthy Mariann Budde having an easy financial time of life. And this was Budde’s friend?
At this point, the possessed pipe organ reasserted itself.
But the service continued with Jefferts Schori reading the liturgy in a long, low monotone. Everything went very slowly. During the actual consecration, “Therefore, Father, make Mariann a bishop in your church” the pipe organ decided to make more unexpected dissonant sounds, though these notes were quieter but still noticeable.
Then Budde got up to say a few words.
Following the consecration the newly consecrated Budde stood up to applause dressed in her neworange, purple and blue vestments. She was asked to speak and in a shaky voice gave a testimony to the great work of “John and Karen Dixon” apparently mixing together the names of Bishop John Bryson Chane and Bishop Jane Dixon.
Although I’d pay just about any amount of money for one, I seriously doubt that the Cathedral or the Diocese is going to sell DVD copies of this disaster.
Everyone in the congregation waited for someone from the House of Bishops to help her but they did not. Finally after a minute of this extremely shocking mistake, members of the congregation yelled out to Budde that she had her names wrong. She stopped and finally understood what was said but embarrassment reigned everywhere. She had recently dismissed Chane as Interim Dean of the Cathedral and it is widely believed that Jane Dixon organized to help Budde win the election.
Right about here, Budde decided that discretion was the better part of valor.
So who did she want to thank in her heart? Probably Jane Dixon. Budde said, “I should probably stop now.” After this mistake, Budde faded away and went to sit down for the offertory. She sat down next to Jefferts Schori and talked throughout the offertory with the Presiding Bishop (who seemed through her body language to be trying to discourage Budde’s continued private loquaciousness). But Budde continued and the congregation tried to recover from the failed tribute to John Chane, who looked shaken by this.
Fortunately, the rest of the liturgy went off without a hitch.
Even after all of this, none of the rest of the service went well with the liturgy continuing as a few words in English, a few words in Spanish. This pattern successfully added to the already broken and confused environment. The communion music between singers and a piano pulled apart several times, and the microphones squealed throughout the service.
Seriously. If it sold DVD’s of this thing, the NatCat or the Diocese of Washington would be in the financial clear for generations to come.
A correspondent of David Virtue just witnessed something like that. Unfortunately, what this correspondent saw was the consecration of new Washington, DC Episcopal Bishop Mariann Budde. Selections follow. Before you settle in, you might want to get yourself something enjoyable to eat and/or drink because this is good:
The service focused on bringing together many diverse musical elements with the opening processional done by a three-man group of Native Americans called Southwest Eagle Dancers. The lengthy constant drumming and chanting created a distinct tension as listeners wondered what religious tradition they were from. Clergy processed in to the syncopated drums and no singing.
Not to worry. At this point, the cathedral’s pipe organ decided to take things into its own capable hands. Or pipes. Or something.
Before the Episcopal Church bishops and Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori walked in, the sounds of the pipe organ began the introduction and first verse of “I bind unto myself today.” After the second verse, the organ dropped out and the singing stopped and an eerie silence filled the Cathedral only relieved by the sound of walking feet. Everyone began to look at each other as the silence grew to over one minute. The organ started with verse three, played about four measures and abruptly broke off. Another long and uncomfortable silence began during which time the bishops continued their tense procession for another two minutes. Then the next sound heard to the congregation with its many empty seats was a tinny, electric keyboard. The hymn finished with this bizarre musical accompaniment that was too quiet for the hymn. Everyone was murmuring in speculation about what happened but no answers were given.
Which is often a very good thing. What you don’t know won’t hurt you and all that.
Presiding Bishop Jefferts Schori began the service with the declarations of the election of Budde (who was ordained by John Shelby Spong.) During the Litany for Ordination, the prayer was being read “For Katharine, our presiding Bishop, and for all bishops, priests, and deacons that they may be filled with your love…” when something seemed to fall upon the pipe organ keys hitting simultaneously about three octaves of notes, creating a tremendously large sound of dissonance, overwhelming all spoken words and creating a sound like something from a horror movie. Everyone quickly stopped speaking and looked at one another aghast. A woman sitting in the row behind me said, “What is the Spirit doing?”
Be careful what questions you ask because they might get answered. But to continue.
But the service became more and more confused. Dr. Paul Budde, husband to Mariann, read a long poem called “Coleman’s Bed” by David Whyte, not an accessible poem that seemed entirely out of place in a liturgical service. One line reads, “Ghost then, to where others, in this place, have come before, under the hazel, by the ruined chapel, below the cave where Coleman slept.” What was this? The only connection seemed to be odd ruins with the mangled liturgy at this point in a Cathedral whose entire ceiling was covered by netting in case more things dropped down on the congregation.
The sermon seems to have increased the Twilight Zone-ish feel.
But wait, the worst was still yet to come. The Rev. Linda Kaufman, a close friend of Mariann, gave the sermon. Kaufman started off with a reference to her own “beautiful and elegant wife” and the advice she had received about this sermon. This preacher went to describe Mariann in seminary as rich, thin, very liberal and driving a Volvo. Kaufman went on to make jokes about her weight and described herself several times as “fat” and she was surprised that the thin Mariann would be her friend. To make jokes about fat people was inappropriate to the maximum but Kaufman did this several times. Instead of the scriptures, Kaufman preached about the poem and told Mariann in a loudly yelling voice “to be hospitable, even to the stranger to you.” She offered no ideas about what this meant and left the image hanging out there of the wealthy Mariann Budde having an easy financial time of life. And this was Budde’s friend?
At this point, the possessed pipe organ reasserted itself.
But the service continued with Jefferts Schori reading the liturgy in a long, low monotone. Everything went very slowly. During the actual consecration, “Therefore, Father, make Mariann a bishop in your church” the pipe organ decided to make more unexpected dissonant sounds, though these notes were quieter but still noticeable.
Then Budde got up to say a few words.
Following the consecration the newly consecrated Budde stood up to applause dressed in her neworange, purple and blue vestments. She was asked to speak and in a shaky voice gave a testimony to the great work of “John and Karen Dixon” apparently mixing together the names of Bishop John Bryson Chane and Bishop Jane Dixon.
Although I’d pay just about any amount of money for one, I seriously doubt that the Cathedral or the Diocese is going to sell DVD copies of this disaster.
Everyone in the congregation waited for someone from the House of Bishops to help her but they did not. Finally after a minute of this extremely shocking mistake, members of the congregation yelled out to Budde that she had her names wrong. She stopped and finally understood what was said but embarrassment reigned everywhere. She had recently dismissed Chane as Interim Dean of the Cathedral and it is widely believed that Jane Dixon organized to help Budde win the election.
Right about here, Budde decided that discretion was the better part of valor.
So who did she want to thank in her heart? Probably Jane Dixon. Budde said, “I should probably stop now.” After this mistake, Budde faded away and went to sit down for the offertory. She sat down next to Jefferts Schori and talked throughout the offertory with the Presiding Bishop (who seemed through her body language to be trying to discourage Budde’s continued private loquaciousness). But Budde continued and the congregation tried to recover from the failed tribute to John Chane, who looked shaken by this.
Fortunately, the rest of the liturgy went off without a hitch.
Even after all of this, none of the rest of the service went well with the liturgy continuing as a few words in English, a few words in Spanish. This pattern successfully added to the already broken and confused environment. The communion music between singers and a piano pulled apart several times, and the microphones squealed throughout the service.
Seriously. If it sold DVD’s of this thing, the NatCat or the Diocese of Washington would be in the financial clear for generations to come.
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