Author

Greetings!

Imagine, at this moment, you are standing on the front steps of a highly regarded historic church. Beneath your sturdy snow boots, shiny black wingtips, plastic flip flops, soft deerskin moccasins, waterproof rain boots, brown penny loafers, trusty sneakers, soft ballet flats, or whichever type of sensible or fashionable footwear you are currently wearing, is a cheery welcome mat. Please take a moment to wipe the dust off of the soles of your shoes, but more importantly, clear away any troubling thoughts that cause you to become emotionally flustered or anxious. I give you this advice because my mouse sense tells me that having an untroubled frame of mind will highly intensify your delight in reading The Bond of Love. Very quickly you will ascertain that the people and mice that belong to Historic St. Peter’s are far from being bystanders, spectators, or sofa spuds. It is a pleasure to broadcast that they are full of zeal, zip, zest, and zing!

Now that you are standing at the threshold of the arched wooden church door that was constructed ages ago of mighty oak, you will notice an eye-catching, but time-worn, golden crucifix doorknocker. A bronze plaque inscribed with the words Historic St. Peter’s Lutheran Church, Erected 1842 is prominently placed underneath the stout doorknocker. Go ahead, reach out, and give it a rap. Immediately the door will open to welcome you inside. Very similar to the image I just conveyed to you, I invite you to step into my tale, an absorbing world that can be called church life. Please make yourself at home by plunking down in your favourite chair to take the load off of your feet. As you begin reading my tale, shortly you will be in the thick of things. You will not walk away achieving a major or minor in the subject of church life, but you will come across a treasure trove of grace. By the way, grace seems to be a very significant word at St. Peter’s because we have heard Ephesians 2:8a spoken many times. It goes like this: For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith.

Some of you have steadily followed my first two recordings, In the Beginning and Heaven on Earth. While reading my final journal, please keep in mind that you will be covered with honest-to-goodness Gemütlichkeit, a German-language word that encircles all sorts of good cheer and light-heartedness, where there is an abundance of love and acceptance.

Let me take a microsecond to introduce myself to the newcomers unfamiliar with my tale. Finley Newcastle is my name. I am a church mouse living and working at Historic St. Peter’s. During the unfolding liturgical church year I have been steadily recording a journal. This compilation unintentionally became three separate journals due to the vast supply of information. From reading entries in my journal, you will instantly become acquainted with Historic St. Peter’s delightful clergy family, the thought-provoking parishioners, and the many mighty mice that reside at Historic St. Peter’s, which commonly is shortened to St. Pete’s or HSP. Residing at Historic St. Peter’s, along with my gem of a wife, Ruby, we have found that it is a perfect place to live. The church environment fosters a flourishing and intriguing way of life. Ruby and I are members of a thriving mouse village that appreciates dwelling in God’s house, too. The village has concluded that human beings are highly intelligent, perceptive, and extra good-looking. In the back of my journal I am keeping a list of the many mice and people at St. Peter’s in an appendix. This should ward off any slight confusion as to who exactly is who!

Being wholeheartedly thrilled, let me say a word of thanks for spending your free time with me as minutes and hours are precious, something not to be treated carelessly. There happens to be twenty-four hours in each day but what we choose to do with those hours, minutes, and seconds is up to us! Since it is wise not to waste time, let’s constructively plow forward by using some of the 86,400 seconds that are in each day to explore what’s found in Finley’s Tale - Book III: The Bond of Love. Keep in mind that while you are learning about the primary news and events at Historic St. Peter’s we are united in fellowship with one another. Our hearts will be linked with endearment and fondness, just like the verse about love found in Colossians 3:14 where it says, And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.

It is a full time job to observe Pastor Clement Osterhagen, his lovely and practical wife, Aia (pronounced I-ya), and their three children, Gretchen, Marc, and Luc. The children are adored by their parents, parishioners, and the entire mice village. The Osterhagens reside in the parsonage that is connected to the church proper by a long-windowed breezeway surrounding a well-landscaped courtyard. My wife Ruby and I have a small dwelling right next door to the parsonage in an old storage room. Fortunately, there is a small crack in the parsonage dining room wall directly behind their wooden hutch. It is there we are able to peek into the parsonage to see and hear what is happening in their home. Trust me, you will not read very far into my journal before you develop a fondness for this clergy family.

It was on Monday, September 21, the Feast of St. Matthew, Apostle, Evangelist, that the last recording was made in Finley’s Tale – Book II: Heaven on Earth. Entries into my journal once again came to a halt because every single sheet in my notebook was overflowing with handwriting. Thankfully I enlisted help from the mice village and within a short amount of time two brothers, Wayne and Calhoun, stumbled upon a new journal in the church library that had a yin and yang drawing on the cover. We are aware that a yin and yang symbol is not exactly churchy, but it was an emergency, the only notebook that they could find. Remember that the depiction on the cover of the journal is of no mind, the interior paper is the vitally important component to continue my writing.

As I’ve said before, I have a tale to tell and you may follow my tale. Oodles and oodles more will be presented. My writing is not scholarly, intellectual, or perfect in punctuation like most great writers of the world that include Leo Tolstoy and Laura Ingalls Wilder. Please take into consideration that I am a mouse and English is not my first language, my native tongue is Mouse. I admit that I do not possess a university degree in writing so my sentences will not be written like an academic. Every so often my tale gets messy and complicated, overwhelmed with details, but it will be told in a straightforward manner involving no fish tales that always taste far better with a dollop of cocktail or tartar sauce.

In the evenings when Pastor Osterhagen and his family are asleep, my wife Ruby and I usually travel to the parsonage kitchen to see if we can find a late night snack. We are curious to know what the other rooms in the parsonage look like, but we do not satisfy that hankering. We only venture into the dining room and kitchen. Owing to the fact that Aia is such an excellent cook, almost daily we happen upon itty-bitty nutritiously yummy morsels that have accidently dropped on either the dining room floor or kitchen floor from one of their three daily meals. Rarely do we venture over to the church through the breezeway to look for morsels dropped in the kitchen or youth room.

I encourage you to stay with The Bond of Love to see how the remainder of the liturgical church year unfolds. God bless you!

Your old friend or your brand new friend,

Finley Newcastle

(F.N. for short)

P.S. Earlier on when I encouraged you to rap on Historic St. Peter’s golden crucifix doorknocker, one portion of a Bible verse dawned on me from Matthew 7:8. It reads like this,. . . and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened. I have a sneaking suspicion that two of the words contained in that particular Bible verse could be expressed in another way. Perhaps the word knocks really means to pray, while the word opened might actually mean to be given an answer. Bear with me as I loosely insert these two substitution words: And to the one who prays, answers will be given.

Friday, September 25

It was last January when Humbly, a timid and easily frightened mouse in our village, overheard Priscilla Larkin inquire about the various colours of St. Peter’s embroidered liturgical cloth hangings that dress the altar, pulpit, and lectern. He remembered that it appeared critical that she find out the exact colour and shade that would be used on Saturday, September 26, the date of her daughter’s upcoming wedding. Pastor Osterhagen revealed to her that it will be the season of Pentecost so the green altar cloths, commonly called paraments, will be in use at that time symbolizing renewal and promises of a new life in Christ our Saviour.

Crestfallen to hear about the vivid shamrock green liturgical paraments, Priscilla (Cilla for short) inquired if a softer, more gentle peaches-and-cream type of colour could be substituted for Penelope’s wedding so that the colour of the paraments will not jarringly clash with the dewy bridal colours that Poppy (for short) has meticulously chosen. Revealing to Pastor that the bridesmaid’s gowns are a delicate cameo blush-pink, Cilla appeared even more uneasy. She also added that the bridal bouquet will consist of white roses, pink calla lilies, and silver drop eucalyptus. Over and above all she is unquestionably certain that the professional photographer will frown upon using the sanctuary as a photography venue because of the glaring mismatch between the soft-hued wedding colours and the dill pickle green chancel linens. She anticipates that he will recommend that the wedding photos instead be taken at Emsworth’s Manor House Grand Banquet Hall and also in their passionately manicured garden area, weather permitting, of course.

Humbly noticed that Pastor perceived Cilla is vigilantly overseeing her daughter’s wedding by even seeking to customize the colour of the chancel paraments to better compliment the delicate hues of the wedding attire. Humbly later told Ruby and myself that he was proud of Pastor when he kindly told Cilla that the paraments are not changed for weddings held at Historic St. Peter’s, but are only changed as the liturgical church year progresses. Cilla’s face looked terribly disappointed when she heard that news, but she quickly offered a generous suggestion. She began speaking about Rita Hines, a local woman known for her sewing handiwork skills who has been commissioned by the current Governor’s wife, Mrs. Margo Silbertson, to sew the chic and sophisticated clothing that she wears to a wide variety of state functions. Cilla offered to commission Rita to sew a new set of paraments in a high quality blush-pink fabric. At that point, Humbly noticed that Pastor did not know what to say. He guessed that Pastor might have assumed that far less skill is needed to sew straight seamed lines on altar cloths than sewing fancy dresses, fitted skirts, and blazers. It must be tricky to sew the occasional evening gown worn by Mrs. Silbertson when she attends formal dinners where Caesar salad, pan-seared filet mignon slathered with peppercorn sauce, and green beans with almonds are likely served. Humbly told Ruby and myself that sewing that type of clothing with an abundance of detailed fancywork would definitely require persistent patience combined with a plenitude of expertise. Thinking of a compromise, Pastor asked Cilla to come to his office and take a look at a church supply catalogue where various paraments are shown. Without delay, Cilla claimed that the ones featured in the catalogue were constructed of top quality fabrics, tastefully adorned with colourful appliqués, and stitched with artistic Swiss-style embroidery. Cilla thanked him for pointing out these pre-made parament sets, asking to borrow the catalogue so that she can show them to her husband. Telling Pastor that she had some thinking to do, she assured him that she would speak to him later about what she now has dubbed the parament predicament.

Two weeks later, Cilla and Pastor had a conversation overheard by Hawthorne, a mouse as robust and healthy as a hearty geranium. Cilla revealed to Pastor that when she telephoned the church supply company headquartered in Allentown, Pennsylvania, she found them to be exceptionally helpful. They recommended that their pastel rose-coloured brocade paraments embellished with golden embroidery would be the perfect choice. Assuring Pastor that she and her husband Raymond plan on purchasing the set along with a matching clergy stole for him, all she needed was his approval so she could proceed. Hawthorne told me that Pastor had a bittersweet expression on his face while he noticed Cilla trying so hard to achieve the perfect aesthetic ambiance at St. Peter’s for Poppy’s upcoming wedding. Since this gift would be a glorious addition to St. Peter’s, Pastor encouraged her to go ahead and place the order. He told her that just this once he would make an exception and take down the green paraments and replace them with the new set for the wedding. He also was glad to point out that the new paraments would be used on Rose Sunday, as Historic St. Peter’s does not have special paraments for the Third Sunday in Advent. After hearing that, Cilla was so overjoyed that she hugged Pastor and thanked him numerous times for helping her solve the parament predicament.

After that discussion, Cilla asked permission to use the church’s long-windowed breezeway to host a short champagne gathering immediately following the ceremony, just prior to the guests heading out to Emsworth’s Manor House for the wedding dinner. She added that sweet-rosé champagne will be served alongside nut cups containing a medley of pink Jordan almonds, jumbo cashews, and macadamia nuts. After hearing the description of the champagne and nut event, Humbly jumped to the conclusion that Pastor might be a nutso not to let them use St. Peter’s breezeway for a short reception.

Pastor has kept an eye out for the new paraments to arrive at St. Peter’s. He was concerned about them, so a few days ago he telephoned the supplier in Allentown, Pennsylvania. They assured him that the paraments were on their way and will arrive shortly. Pastor was so at ease when they finally arrived. After opening up the box, he became horror-struck when he saw that the paraments were altogether the wrong colour. They were supposed to be a gentle pink, but they were strikingly blood red with an abundance of golden embroidery depicting the burning fire of the Holy Spirit. With lightning speed Pastor searched for the church supply catalogue to find their telephone number. While on the phone with the customer service clerk, she looked up Historic St. Peter’s order form. Clement later told Aia that the clerk actually gasped when she realized that a mix up had occurred in the company’s mailroom, admitting that the rose-coloured paraments intended for Historic St. Peter’s were accidently sent to the wrong church and St. Peter’s got that church’s order. Being that the wedding is tomorrow, Pastor needed to quickly come up with a solution. Realizing that Sunday is St. Michael’s and All Angels (Observed) he knew that the white paraments would be used. So, he changed all of the liturgical cloths, knowing that the only tricky thing yet to do would be to call Cilla and explain what had happened.

Ruby and I heard Clement telephone Cilla after he returned to the parsonage. We thought he might be as nervous as a student facing a physics test who pauses to pray before the exam. But, he remained calm while explaining to her exactly what had transpired. After he hung up, he told Aia that Cilla told him that he was a hero, a real giant who solved another parament predicament. Adding that she is feeling anything but calm and relaxed, she wondered if Pastor would pray for her because her mother-in-law, Harriet, arrived a week early and has been getting under her skin. She revealed to Pastor that on their wedding day thirty-one years ago, Raymond’s mother told him to not marry that woman. Before they hung up, Cilla said that she hopes to enjoy Poppy’s wedding, so one good thing is that she put her mother-in-law’s place card right next to Denver Wickstrom’s. If Denver cannot sweeten her up, then no one can.

At 10:30 p.m. Ruby and I travelled to the parsonage finding only a sweet gherkin under the dining room table. Ruby especially enjoyed it because it was deliciously sugary. We will have trouble sleeping tonight because we are so looking forward to coming across snippets of the various nuts on the breezeway’s floor following tomorrow’s champagne wedding reception. We have not tasted any of these nut flavours before, having been only familiar with the simple peanut. It’s just too bad that they are not serving cheese and crackers instead of nut cups. Our village ranks cheese with a perfect five-star rating in comparison to the humble peanut that lands only a one-and-one-half star rating.

– F.N.

Saturday, September 26

Ever since Marc and Luc were born, five-year old Gretchen tries very hard to be a good sister by helping care for her twin brothers. Her assistance is even there when it is time for diaper changes. If their diapers are simply wet, she throws the disposable diapers away and fetches two fresh ones for her brother’s tiny bums. When the diapers are soiled, she stands by Aia’s side, pinches her nose, and frantically fans the air with a Spanish folding fan that she keeps handy at the changing table. Over and over again she theatrically exclaims PU in a long drawn out way by voicing Peeeee-yoooooou.

Gretchen recently began kindergarten. Her favourite part of school is learning all twenty-six letters of the alphabet, which she often sings to her brothers. Gretchen asked her mother a couple of days ago if they could go shopping at Bill’s Dollar Bill to purchase a sparkly notebook along with a matching pencil bag and pencils. She intends to put them in her church activity bag that she carries to worship every Sunday morning. Recently discovering that the expression PU is actually two letters of the alphabet, Gretchen has taught herself how to print these two letters.

This afternoon when Aia was in the washroom, Gretchen slid a little slip of paper underneath the door with a handwritten PU on it. After Aia opened the door, Gretchen doubled up with laughter, asking her mama if she liked her PU note. It was last May when Aia’s cousin, Shane Borg, stopped to see them after finishing his sophomore year at P.U. (a.k.a. Purdue University.) Shane apologized for accidently tooting, blaming it on the cafeteria food as well as the anxiety of his finals. When Gretchen heard Shane use that expression she thought it was fun to say, so she added it to her vocabulary. She evidently thinks it is more fun to say toot than to say beeped your horn or passed gas. Clement and Aia smile when she uses that phraseology. Now that Gretchen knows how to spell PU, she runs to get her notepad and writes a PU note to slip under the door every time the washroom is occupied. Gretchen’s purpose in shopping at Bill’s Dollar Bill is because she is running low on supplies due to heavy duty usage.

Yesterday the school children participated in a field trip to a nearby dairy farm to learn about dairy production. When Clement and Aia asked Gretchen to tell them about the outing, her main comment was that she saw lots of smelly cow plops and had to say PU many, many times. She also mentioned that one of her friends called them cow pies and the other friend called them meadow muffins. Her favourite part of the field trip was when the farm couple served vanilla ice cream cones to all of the children at the end of the tour.

Because Clement is now making supper every Monday he’s gotten interested in the art of cooking and is expanding his cooking repertoire. Checking out library cookbooks is part of his expansion of knowledge. Lately he has been cooking outdoors so he doesn’t dirty-up, greasy-up, stinky-up, messy-up, or sticky-up the oven, stove, or the kitchen counters.

Having purchased three large heads of cabbage, Clement is experimenting at fermenting shredded cabbage, an attempt to make homemade sauerkraut just like his grandmother Martha Kuehnert prepared when he was a boy. The cabbage is busy fermenting all right, but during that process the parsonage garage doesn’t smell very pleasant due to the strong vapours. We suspect that the unpleasant pungency might shortly creep into the parsonage and the breezeway, prior to wafting towards the sanctuary. Clement said that he hopes the smell doesn’t reach the sanctuary interior before he can pack the sauerkraut into sterilized glass jars. Gretchen persistently says PU every single time she enters the garage.

United in Holy Marriage this afternoon was Penelope (Poppy) Larkin and Anders (Andy) Rasmussen. The most talked about part of the ceremony in our village was when Pastor gave his wedding sermon. Pretty close to that was when Nita Janssen sang the Irish wedding song, May God Bless this Couple using her colourful soprano voice. Because Pastor delivered such an excellent sermon, I decided to include part of it in my journal. It went like this:

God’s Word is joining you together today. You have been a couple for a long time, engaged quite a while, but now you are joined, one flesh, one new family, one new home. And since you believe in our Lord Jesus, sent as our Saviour from our sins, you are not just two becoming one together, but are as Ecclesiastes 4:12 reads, ‘a cord of three strands that is not quickly broken.’ The law affirms it, your vows proclaim it, and the Church confirms it here that you are one as long as you both shall live.

Following the ceremony Pastor attended the breezeway champagne reception before travelling to Emsworth’s Manor House for the wedding dinner. It was easier for Aia to stay home with Gretchen, Marc, and Luc than to hire a babysitter. Plus, they seem to need their mama every single minute.

At 6:30 p.m. Ruby and I travelled to the breezeway where we came upon a few dropped nuts. We selected the cashew as our favourite nut. Lately, we have been avoiding the parsonage due to the fermenting sauerkraut with its strong foul air. Ruby and I fear that we might lose consciousness by breathing in the potent fumes, so until further notice we look elsewhere throughout the church building to find our treats. Rarely do we come up empty.

– F.N.

The Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost (St. Michael & All Angels, Observed) – September 27

Aia and the children settled into one of the rear pews during worship this morning. Near the back pew was Maverick, a refreshingly free-spirited member of our village. After the church service Maverick came to our dwelling and told us about the free-flowing banter between Mr. Ambrose Beckman and Gretchen. It began when Mr. Beckman walked into the sanctuary and sat down in the pew directly in front of the Osterhagens. Aia visited briefly with him while Maverick listened. Maverick heard Mr. Beckman say that he happens to live three and one-half blocks from Historic St. Peter’s. When the weather is pleasant with no chance of snow or rain, he rides his twenty-six inch adult tricycle to church. Wheeling it inside the church’s entryway, he parks it directly underneath the coat rack. To deter theft, even while at church, he uses a padlock that comes equipped with an adjustable length of about six feet of cable so it can be secured to the heavy duty coat rack. For safety reasons, Ambrose dons a shiny silver helmet that coordinates with both his hair colour and his tricycle. Our village is certain that Mr. Beckman, who we refer to as the Silver Fox, proves to be a safety first gent. Maverick overheard him tell another parishioner that several months ago he completed a community class on bicycle safety. Riding his adult tricycle nearly every day of the week, on Sundays he heads to church. The other six days of the week he takes another route and rides to his favourite pub for a glass of beer at four o’clock. He is such a fixture at the establishment that the employees watch for him to arrive at 4 p.m. If he has not arrived, one of the employees will pick up the telephone and call him to make sure he is all right. Employees have shortened his first name to Bro in favour of using his formal name, Ambrose. After Bro enters the pub, he parks his tricycle at the end of the bar and padlocks it to the foot rail. He revealed all of this to Gretchen after the worship service. Maverick noticed that today the two of them became devoted friends. Their solidarity is due to a slight bomb erupting from Mr. Beckman. Gretchen’s response to this incident is what resulted in them becoming chums.

During the reading of today’s Epistle lesson, Maverick revealed to us that Ambrose accidently broke wind, loud and clear. After that, Gretchen stared at her mother in disbelief with saucer-sized eyes while plugging her nose and wildly fanning the air. Everyone seated in close proximity looked like they were being overtaken by whiffs of the vapour. Because Aia had her hands brimming full holding Marc and Luc, she did not notice that Gretchen was busy with her church activity bag. Standing up on the pew and leaning forward, Gretchen tapped Mr. Beckman on the shoulder, waited a second for him to turn around and then gave him a homemade PU note. Aia did not scope out what was happening until Ambrose chuckled while reading Gretchen’s message.