A Wind Rose . . . .
The Wheel of Time turns, and ages come and pass, leaving memories and traditions that become legend and rituals. In the early 21st century, a wind rose above the towering majestic cathedral in Canterbury. The wind was not the beginning. There are neither beginnings nor endings to the turning of the Wheel of Time. But it was a beginning.
Born in a cold, grey dawn on a mid February morning, the wind raced around the Crown Tower, built to house the crown of St. Thomas' head which was struck off when he was murdered so many years ago. Eastward, and south, the wind howled, crossing the English Channel, one of a hundred winds blowing across the continent. But this wind was different, it had a purpose. South it continued, riding high on heat currents as it crossed the Mediterranean and the hot North African desert. It weakened as it approached the equator, but turned eastward picking up strength as it passed the oil refineries in Nigeria, the poverty stricken villages, the huge orphanages for children who not only have AIDS, but lost their parents to the disease as well. The wind crossed central Africa turning south and flowing along the plains of the Serengeti with the great Mount Kilimanjaro in the distance. Onwards the wind blew, slowing as it approached the Indian Ocean and the city of Dar Es Salaam. The wind crept into the beachside resort creating little whirlwinds in the courtyard that pulled at the cassocks of the Anglican Primates as they scurried from one meeting to the next, avoiding members of the opposition and giving them the barest of courtesies.
My apologies for Robert Jordan for stealing this analogy, but every report I've read from Dar Es Salaam talks about the various rival groups, plotting, secretively in different corners of the resort. It reminds me of the Aes Sedai, their Ajahs, and the plotting and politics within the White Tower and around the world. The greatest irony in my little analogy is that there is only one female at Dar Es Salaam and she's surrounded by men. My thoughts and prayers go out to Bishop Jefferts-Schori. She's going to need all of her strength, patience, intelligence, and deep love, knoledge, and understanding of God to be able to deal with the swirling maelstrom of hate and discontent that is going to try to ridicule and belittle her. I definitely think she's the right person, at the right time, at the right place to fight against the schismatics and help make our Church stronger.
Born in a cold, grey dawn on a mid February morning, the wind raced around the Crown Tower, built to house the crown of St. Thomas' head which was struck off when he was murdered so many years ago. Eastward, and south, the wind howled, crossing the English Channel, one of a hundred winds blowing across the continent. But this wind was different, it had a purpose. South it continued, riding high on heat currents as it crossed the Mediterranean and the hot North African desert. It weakened as it approached the equator, but turned eastward picking up strength as it passed the oil refineries in Nigeria, the poverty stricken villages, the huge orphanages for children who not only have AIDS, but lost their parents to the disease as well. The wind crossed central Africa turning south and flowing along the plains of the Serengeti with the great Mount Kilimanjaro in the distance. Onwards the wind blew, slowing as it approached the Indian Ocean and the city of Dar Es Salaam. The wind crept into the beachside resort creating little whirlwinds in the courtyard that pulled at the cassocks of the Anglican Primates as they scurried from one meeting to the next, avoiding members of the opposition and giving them the barest of courtesies.
My apologies for Robert Jordan for stealing this analogy, but every report I've read from Dar Es Salaam talks about the various rival groups, plotting, secretively in different corners of the resort. It reminds me of the Aes Sedai, their Ajahs, and the plotting and politics within the White Tower and around the world. The greatest irony in my little analogy is that there is only one female at Dar Es Salaam and she's surrounded by men. My thoughts and prayers go out to Bishop Jefferts-Schori. She's going to need all of her strength, patience, intelligence, and deep love, knoledge, and understanding of God to be able to deal with the swirling maelstrom of hate and discontent that is going to try to ridicule and belittle her. I definitely think she's the right person, at the right time, at the right place to fight against the schismatics and help make our Church stronger.