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FIRST SUNDAY OF ADVENT 2016 ROMANS 13:11-14 Last year I installed new windows in my house. I felt I had no choice. On windy days the draft would not just move the curtains, but even force the light fittings to cling to the ceiling for dear life, fearing they would be ripped out of their nests. It was only a matter of time before Jim Cantore would be broadcasting from my living room for the Weather Channel. Upstairs an entire window frame had succumbed to mold, shedding large lumps of wood. That window was a lawsuit waiting to happen. I had nightmares of some poor mailman, innocently going about his business, dropping off a parcel on my doorstep, and experiencing a waterfall of shards cascading onto his head. When Oreo, my cat, sat on the outside window ledge and meowed to come in he sounded like he was sitting on the inside ledge, so poor was the transparent barrier at blocking out sound. You could even hear hybrid cars pass. The only thing going for these windows is that they were see-through; which I guess is the point. But the other qualities that you want, like stopping the draft, eliminating traffic noise, and keeping in the warmth were simply not in the resume of my 35 year-old windows. So, I bit the bullet, figuring that the cost of replacing them would be much less than the damages I'd have to pay the mailman.
So, they came and replaced them, with all the glorious results I'd hoped for. My fuel bills have shrunk, my curtains don't sway; and as for Oreo, well, he can sit on the ledge for hours meowing and I will hear nothing. Yes, I'm pretty happy with my new windows, even if he isn't.
But I do miss one thing about my old ones – deadly hazards though they may have been, wasters of my electricity though they were. I can't hear the sounds of nature anymore. Just ask Oreo. I'm insulated, not just from drafts, but from cicadas; not just from cars, but from peepers; not just from builders pounding nails, but from the birds and the bees and the glorious choir of all creation. And there is one tiny, but mighty.... (Read the full Sermon here: Tweet the good News.pdf )
By The Rev. Dr. Duncan H. Johnston, RectorFIRST SUNDAY OF ADVENT 2016 ROMANS 13:11-14 Last year I installed new windows in my house. I felt I had no choice. On windy days the draft would not just move the curtains, but even force the light fittings to cling to the ceiling for dear life, fearing they would be ripped out of their nests. It was only a matter of time before Jim Cantore would be broadcasting from my living room for the Weather Channel. Upstairs an entire window frame had succumbed to mold, shedding large lumps of wood. That window was a lawsuit waiting to happen. I had nightmares of some poor mailman, innocently going about his business, dropping off a parcel on my doorstep, and experiencing a waterfall of shards cascading onto his head. When Oreo, my cat, sat on the outside window ledge and meowed to come in he sounded like he was sitting on the inside ledge, so poor was the transparent barrier at blocking out sound. You could even hear hybrid cars pass. The only thing going for these windows is that they were see-through; which I guess is the point. But the other qualities that you want, like stopping the draft, eliminating traffic noise, and keeping in the warmth were simply not in the resume of my 35 year-old windows. So, I bit the bullet, figuring that the cost of replacing them would be much less than the damages I'd have to pay the mailman.
So, they came and replaced them, with all the glorious results I'd hoped for. My fuel bills have shrunk, my curtains don't sway; and as for Oreo, well, he can sit on the ledge for hours meowing and I will hear nothing. Yes, I'm pretty happy with my new windows, even if he isn't.
But I do miss one thing about my old ones – deadly hazards though they may have been, wasters of my electricity though they were. I can't hear the sounds of nature anymore. Just ask Oreo. I'm insulated, not just from drafts, but from cicadas; not just from cars, but from peepers; not just from builders pounding nails, but from the birds and the bees and the glorious choir of all creation. And there is one tiny, but mighty.... (Read the full Sermon here: Tweet the good News.pdf )