Thanksgiving 2024

No.239: December 2, 2024

Welcome to The Square Inch, a Friday newsletter on Christianity, culture, and all of the many-varied “square inches” of God’s domain. This is a paid subscription feature with a preview before the paywall, so please consider subscribing to enjoy this weekly missive along with an occasional “Off The Shelf” feature about books, a frequent Pipe & Dram feature of little monologues/conversations in my study, and Wednesday’s “The Quarter Inch,” a quick(er) commentary on current events.

Dear Friends,

I apologize for not getting Friday’s Thanksgiving Edition of The Square Inch Newsletter out and into your inboxes. I turned out to be quite occupied doing something on Black Friday for which I’m thankful: avoiding the shopping traffic and driving into the mountains to hunt for and cut down a Christmas Tree. I got a couple of beauties, one for us and one for our daughter and son-in-law.

The rest of my family was busy, so I went alone. It was a strangely quiet day. Other than encountering a couple of cars on the highway, I barely saw a soul. In the snowy forest I did feel like I was being watched, and I very probably was. There are a lot of bears and mountain lions up there. So I stayed vigilant and tried to make quick work of it.

Now that that important task is done I should get on with my annual giving thanks!

---

I am thankful for my family. As you know, we just celebrated 25 years of marriage. Marrying young was a blessing, and certainly had little to do with me—I was hardly handsome and I think I was pretty obnoxious. I’m glad she saw that I had some promise, at least. Far too many young people still seem to think that you have to “grow up” and get your life figured out and then seek out a partner for life. How about find and pursue a partner for life and then “grow up” and get your lives figured out together? It is probably a smoother path than trying to blend together two entirely separate, well-grooved lives, as so many 30-somethings are having to do.

And just the other day I was told of another conversation with a younger woman who declared, “I don’t want kids. I just don’t want that responsibility.” That could be an epitaph on the gravestone of Western Civilization. I don’t know how to get through to people other than just saying it over and over again. Kids do not deplete your resources; they are force multipliers that exponentially add to your life and happiness. They are unique, unrepeatable works of divine art. Watching them grow and become accomplished in their own right is a joy I can’t imagine willfully rejecting. I’m grateful for my three daughters, and as the older two have now entered legal adulthood I’m thankful that God gave us our little tagalong. We are already experiencing a little “empty nest” syndrome from time to time and it is wonderful to have another around to keep us company in our middle age.

I am thankful for music and the ability to play it, compose it, and perform it. I’ve been a guitarist and songwriter for 34 years now and feel like I have finally figured a few things out. I didn’t think I’d have to sire and raise my own band, but life is funny. I am thankful for the opportunity for freedom and diversity in my musical outlets. I think when people think of The Bailey Band they think of this “Christian theologian” guy doing some songs with his kids and they get a certain image in their heads of what that means or what that sounds like. It is nothing like that image in your head. It’s literally rocking a brewery on a Friday night. Our music is not what people classify as “Christian” music because people are simply wrong in how they classify things. If you are looking for devotional music, and “live worship” music, there is, in fact, an entire industry devoted to producing it. In fact, you can hear us play that kind of music every single Sunday at our worship services. But we think this thing where Christians write all the “devotional” and “worship” music, only to let the pagans do all the writing and entertaining about love, heartache, anger, relationships, suffering, struggle, joy, laughter, life, the universe, and everything is pretty weird. Weirder still is that we then have the chutzpah to complain about the degradation of music and entertainment. Talk about a self-fulfilling prophecy.

I’m thankful for our co-producer who not only helped engineer our forthcoming album, but laid down ridiculously great electric and upright bass tracks. I’m thankful for our drummer, who showed up to his session with a notebook full of scribbles and plans—and executed them beyond our wildest dreams. And I’m thankful that my longtime friend is, after a hiatus doing other pursuits, is back doing what he loves: mixing music. Mixing our music, to be more precise.

As for the diversity of my musical outlets, yesterday was a very momentous day. For years now at church when the time has come to do the “Sanctus” during the liturgy, our congregation has simply recited the words because we didn’t have any musical settings we knew (or particularly liked). So I was tasked to write one. I wrote a melody and then Olivia helped me fill it out with harmonies and we ended up with a complete score. We plan to use this one for at least Advent and Lent, and compose a couple more renditions for other times on the church calendar. Yesterday we sang it for the first time! I don’t have a good recording of it, but I can share the sheet music for those interested.

That’s a good lead in for a final thanksgiving this year. I am thankful for Holy Spirit Anglican Church. A number of years ago we found ourselves, as many do for many reasons, “in between” churches, and landed among a very tiny little congregation of Anglicans—a leftover “remnant” from the split in the Episcopal Church. Now, I am a born and bred low-church Presbyterian so this was something of a challenge. I intellectually appreciated the Anglican Church and its remarkable heritage in the Reformational tradition (thank you, Thomas Cranmer), but it still took a lot of getting used to. I think in the back of my mind I always felt like this little church was a way-station of sorts, an “Oasis” until some other opportunity arose. Maybe I’d eventually find my way back to a Presbyterian church.

I am pretty much completely over all that hedging. This is our home, and while still small we have seen tremendous growth over the past couple of years, especially since we are now able to rent a beautiful sanctuary on Sunday afternoons. We are so thankful to be able to serve, both as the music ministry and as my wife produces the bulletins and complete liturgy every week. Our Rector is wonderful and preaches clear, straightforward biblical messages, usually tying together all of the lectionary readings. I have come to appreciate so much about the Anglican liturgy: its strong and equal emphasis on Word and Sacrament; the metric tons of Scripture reading every week; participatory prayer; confession of sin, the Nicene Creed (every week!), the beautiful and exalted language of the Book of Common Prayer. I even have come to appreciate much of the pageantry; watching my 10-year-old daughter wearing her acolyte robe, standing and serving at the altar, and reciting everything from memory is a joy.

So finally it came about that I couldn’t think of any real reasons to refrain from commitment; on the contrary, the Lord wanted us to really be a part of the body in which he placed us. So when the Bishop came to town this year we were confirmed and received into the Anglican communion.

The Anglican Church in North America has its problems like every other denomination, and there promises to be plenty of conflict in the future. But right now my weekly experience of the gathered church is so blessedly uncomplicated. And since that hadn’t been my experience for a long time, I am thankful.

---

Thank you for reading this tardy missive! Later this week Bailey and I are off on our annual road trip to San Francisco for CCL’s Annual Symposium. We’ve got our Cormoran Strike audiobook all queued up! Have a wonderful rest of your week.