It is ironic that the title of the article (Commentary, November) is "At Least Apologize" by Nell Braxton Gibson.  Whoever placed the photograph of the painting Aspects of Negro Life above that article did not do his/her homework.  This wonderful painting is by Aaron Douglas, not  “Douglas Aaron,” as the person to whom it is attributed.

I met Mr. Douglas many times at Fisk University (Nashville, Tenn.), where he taught throughout my four years as an undergraduate (BA, 1956) and where his work can still be seen.  Mr. Douglas was a leading American artist in the Harlem Renaissance.  The Schomburg Collection at the New York Public Library does in fact list Mr. Douglas as "Aaron Douglas."

It is indeed strange that so many small “mistakes,” “omissions,” “misspellings” and “typographical errors” occur in the cases where African-American citations, achievements, even obituaries are concerned.  Such things tend to render instant anonymity, deliberate or not.  (Is this yet another example, perhaps, of that de facto condition of which Ms. Gibson writes?)

In order to correct this one, Episcopal Life can "at least apologize" in print to the many admirers and former students of Mr. Douglas for mis-recording the artist's name accompanying the painting above Ms. Gibson's most excellent commentary.

Recently, the Rev. Fred Fenton made reference to our theological dialogue with Rome. Such a discussion is like attempting to have a dialogue with Communist China: Time and energy are better spent doing something else.  Believing that actions speak louder than words, simply view the Church of Rome’s acts since the Protestant Reformation.  There was a protest then, and there should be a protest today -- for the rights of all who wish to come to Christ’s table.

There were sound theological reasons to break with Rome, and theological roadblocks remain.  Papal supremacy and papal infallibility, to name but two, are baseless historical nonsense -- though not to the bishop of Rome. The Roman stance is to view anyone outside their fold as heretical.  The rights of women (including serving as priests/bishops), homosexuals and Episcopalians are issues viewed with equal distain.  (Think about that, those of you who have never experienced discrimination).  No meaningful dialogue can occur in such a poisoned atmosphere.

I would prefer that the Anglican Communion continue our great tradition of welcoming all to Christ’s table, though Rome continues her acts of bigotry, intolerance and exclusion.  Better to forego debate and welcome disaffected Romans into the Anglican Communion, that they may receive spiritual renewal through Christ’s acceptance, love and forgiveness.

I applaud Bill McLean for having the courage to write about his alcoholism (“Reflections on recovery,” First person singular, October). I am also a recovering alcoholic, but unlike the Rev. McLean, I never became a daily drinker.  In fact, my binges were few and far between.

What I could completely relate to in the story was the experience of a daily hell.  Alcoholism was stealing my soul, whether I was drinking or not.  It created a chasm between me and God that only began to be repaired once I sought treatment. Today, recovery means that I have a sense of peace and acceptance in my daily life that I never experienced before.  Like Bill McLean, I thank God every day for the opportunity to live my life as a productive, sober alcoholic.

As a recovering alcoholic and active member of Alcoholics Anonymous, I very much appreciated Bill McLean's "Reflections on recovery." Both AA (whose founding Thomas Keating has called the most significant spiritual event of the 20th century) and the Episcopal Church have played a significant role in my own recovery.

I was a committed atheist whose alcoholism led to my conversion.  I shared my first fifth step ("Admitted to God, to ourselves and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs") with an understanding Episcopal priest who was very familiar with both AA's 12 steps and with the disease of addiction.  His words (which I think were God-given) meant so much to me in early recovery.

I later learned that Bill Wilson, the founder of AA, found a spiritual adviser in the Rev. Samuel Shoemaker, rector at the time of Calvary Episcopal Church in New York City and a leader in the Oxford Group movement in which Bill W had his spiritual awakening.   A good collection of Sam Shoemaker's writings (including What the Church has to Learn From Alcoholics Anonymous) appears in Courage to Change: The Christian Roots of the Twelve Step Movement by Bill Pittman and Dick B., published by Hazelton.

Sadly, not all Christian clergy are as enlightened as Shoemaker or my own priest. I have met far too many addicts and alcoholics who refuse to set foot in any church, who recount some very damaging religious experiences caused by some very intolerant clergy and laypeople.  I have heard clergy who come from a very fundamentalist tradition list alcoholics among the sinners who would burn in hell, and I have had others ask me why I still went to meetings -- wouldn't going to church keep me sober?

When I have these encounters, or when I hear politicians dedicated to wealth and warfare try to identify themselves as born-again Christians, I wonder how many people struggling with their addictions will give up on God and die of their disease.

I was surprised to see my picture in the November 2005 issue of Episcopal Life, accompanying a letter about military chaplains from the Rev. James B. Craven III. I was surprised because I am James O. Cravens -- not James B. Craven. Given the name similarity, I can understand the error. I, too, am a Navy chaplain, and the rector of Trinity Episcopal Church in Lincoln, Ill.

I also would like to respectfully take issue with LCDR Craven's letter. I think Chaplain Craven intended to make the point that chaplains do not have command over combatants in military operations. However, the statement "the chaplain is ... in no chain of command" is incorrect. Every single member of the U.S. Armed Forces is in a chain of command -- there are no exceptions. Your chain of command begins with your immediate superior -- the person who signs your fitness report -- and extends all the way up to the president, who is the commander-in-chief of the Armed Forces.

Chaplain Craven points out that a chaplain can go directly to the ship's captain with any matter at any time. The reason is that the chaplain is generally placed in the chain of command immediately below the ship's captain to guarantee the chaplain access to the captain on crucial issues involving the welfare of crew members. But even though directly below the ship's captain in the chain of command, a chaplain has no authority to assume command or issue orders (except to subordinate chaplains/religious program specialists). It should be noted that the same chaplain does not have similar access to any other ship's captain -- simply because he or she would then be acting outside the appropriate chain of command.

Chaplains are most definitely in the chain of command -- but without general command responsibility or prerogative.

My husband and I have spent the past two years or so "church shopping" or, more accurately, "church observing" in various congregations of various denominations as background research for a book in progress.  We've found the sorts of less-than-visitor-friendly examples you cite to be pretty much the norm in our area in both large and small congregations across all the denominations we've sampled. Beyond the "first impression" drawbacks noted in your article, what we felt was the biggest stumbling block to facilitating and encouraging new-member incorporation was a lack of intentional follow-through efforts by established members to come alongside newcomers for as long as it might take for them to feel assimilated.

We set out on this observation adventure a year after moving into our town because we noticed during that time no church of any kind made any direct overt effort to invite our interest in them or demonstrate their interest in us.  We got the impression  these congregations are made up of good-hearted, well-intentioned people who are simply unaware of how they come across ... or rather, how they don't come across.

Thank you for raising an important issue.

I was so saddened by Jane Volkema’s article “Church shopping” (September) that I felt compelled to write of my truly wonderful experience “shopping” for a new church.

On March 17, 2004, I walked into St. John the Baptist Episcopal Church in Center Moriches, N.Y. Although it was my first visit to this church, I was warmly greeted at the door by the ushers and introduced to one of the church shepherds. I was given a welcome card and a bulletin and a brief lesson in the Book of Common Prayer. (Having come from the Roman Catholic Church, I was not familiar with this book, which I now love.) Upon taking a seat in an empty pew, I was greeted by almost every person who entered the church and repeatedly invited to stay for coffee hour (another foreign concept to a Roman Catholic). I have never felt so welcome anywhere in my life.

That feeling continued throughout the Mass, and, in fact, continues until this day. The parishioners sitting around me that first Sunday were incredibly helpful and kind. I never had to ask for help in figuring out what page I should turn to or what I should do; someone was right there guiding me throughout the Mass. At the end of the service, the shepherds accompanied me into the church hall for coffee hour and introduced me around the room. There was not one minute that I was left alone to feel awkward. I knew that morning that I had found a church home.

In response to William Hairston (“Chaplains have dual role,” Letters, September), during the Chaplain Basic course in 1969, Jim Turner, lieutenant colonel, infantry, stopped dead in the middle of a class, looked each student in the eye and pointing to his silver leaf said, “Gentlemen, you are chaplains! The Army gave you this, wear it lightly.” Pointing to his branch, he said, “The Army did not give you the cross or tablets, and you better wear them very heavily.” I don’t remember anything else from that class – but that never left me.

The Army chaplain is not part of the chain of command. The chaplain has rank without command authority and is to advise the commander on matters of morale and morals as affected by religion and to provide for the religious needs of the command. Never in 23 years of Army service did anyone tell me what I could or could not say, or even express what they “expected.” (This has not been my experience in the parish.)

I’ve known chaplains who didn’t get it and wanted to be commanders – as I’ve known priests who lived to be bishops. They just didn’t get it, but in both cases they stood out as exceptions and would have been lousy regardless of rank – or branch. They were rarely respected by juniors, peers or seniors. They just didn’t know what to wear lightly and what to wear heavily.

I was amused by Mr. Hairston’s statement that chaplains are functionaries in a killing machine. He has been watching too many movies.  I think that he reveals his anti-military prejudice with this harsh indictment of the chaplain’s role.  If the person who is exercising a ministry of pastoral care for soldiers in difficult, lonely situations can be called “a functionary in a killing machine,” we have a real problem of perception.

During my 20 years of military service as a chaplain in the National Guard and the United States Army Reserve, I was often told that the Episcopal Church was not using all of its allotted chaplain slots.  Our unused slots were then given to other denominations.  Chaplaincy in the U.S. Army is today dominated by persons from fundamentalist and evangelical denominations, churches who look at the military as a fertile mission field.  The Episcopal Church, on the other hand, chooses to make a political statement by its noninvolvement. How sad!

I am appalled by the sentiments expressed by Charles Pope in "Deciding before the draft" (October).  I recognize his right to express those sentiments.

Maybe the mainstream press does not reach Iowa, but there has been national attention to the question of a draft within the past few months.  With most TV coverage concentrating on casualties and military attacks in Iraq, how can one escape considering thoughts of war and killing?  And Selective Service being "more oppressive and brutal”:   Hello! Is Pope a citizen of the United States or what?

This vicar appears dedicated to creating and justifying conscientious objectors.  By creating a paper trail to show a draft board, they will no doubt make a convincing case.  Too bad Pope cannot go to Iraq and talk to the young servicepeople who are so proud of what they are creating there.  Solid accomplishments -- not a paper trail.

The committee to select nominees for the office of presiding bishop performs its task at a critical time in the journey of this part of God's church. This day and age calls for one in that office to be not only a person committed to God's purposes as revealed in and by Jesus Christ, but the successor to the office also must be a diplomat of extraordinary skills, one who can bring diverse minds together for the cause of Christ. This person must have the stature and credibility to command the respect of the greater Anglican Communion.

The Rev. John Danforth has the above qualities and more, as amply demonstrated in his tenure as United States Senator from Missouri and United States ambassador to the United Nations. Those were my thoughts before reading [Danforth’s] article "Onward, moderate Christian Soldiers" (September). Those thoughts were reinforced after reading the article.

In times that, in the words of Thomas Paine, "try men's souls," let the church follow the example of the church in Milan in the fourth century. At a time of discord and division, the people seeing Ambrose (remembered Dec. 7 on the church calendar), a lay person, as one to bring peace as a mediator between the battling factions of Arians and orthodox Christians cried, "Ambrose shall be our bishop." He was hastily baptized, ordained and made bishop of Milan.

Today may it be heard, "Let John Danforth be our presiding bishop." If the church desires it, it can be done.

John Danforth wants America to know that there are Christians out there whose faith leads them to political conclusions different from those of the religious right.  Good.  There are.  Danforth's version of Christianity, he makes clear, favors removing Terri Schiavo's feeding tube, funding embryonic stem-cell research, continuing to forbid religion in "the public square" and opposing an amendment defining marriage in the Constitution.

Fine.  That's a fair description of a large swath of American Christians.  But he can't leave it there.  He's got to pretend to a moral superiority over his "conservative friends."  They, he says, approach politics with a certainty that they know God's truth and that they can advance the kingdom of God through governmental action.  Horrors!

And how, then, does Senator Danforth approach politics?  Does not he, too, know God's truth in regards to Schiavo, stem cells, prayer in school and gay marriage?  He argues that his positions are actually mandated by the love-command of the Lord.  So why is his certainty about Jesus' will somehow pure, while that of the right wing despicable?

Here's a fellow who says that his politics reflect "a healthy acknowledgment  of the limitations of human beings" who is urging those same human beings to conduct wild and unprecedented experiments with marriage and human embryos.

As a conservative, I was shocked that Judith M. Jones of Spokane tells me (Provocateur responses, September) that I must leave the church in which I was baptized in 1930 at Seattle. I do not agree with the gay-rights agenda; however, I have always supported women clergy, including the inspirational and beautiful Bishop Rivera of Olympia, would never want the altar against the wall, love Rite II and the 1982 hymnal, sing in the choir, have worked three Cursillos and greatly enjoy the charismatic music. I am a member of the Order of the Daughters of the King, the Episcopal Church Women and the Remain Episcopal group in our diocese.

How mean-spirited and judgmental of this woman to think that she has been given right to say who can and who cannot be an Episcopalian!

Jane Volkema tells a sad story (“Church shopping,” September) because it is true.  First impressions are lasting ones. As an Episcopalian, I stayed for years, even though in our moving around the country we came into some downright cold environments. A little over a year ago, it became necessary for us to look for a new place to worship where our twin granddaughters could have the Christian formation experience they were ready for as sixth-graders, and where physical special needs could be met in the classroom. The two churches that we considered were openly friendly and helpful to all of us. The choice was hard, very hard. I love the Episcopal Church and have not yet formally taken our membership out.

What did the two churches have that I could not find within a reasonable distance or in my own parish? People willing to welcome our children as members of their community.  Clergy who were willing to give pastoral care when needed without excuses.

I am with some frequency finding in diocesan or other church periodicals, and occasionally even in Episcopal Life, the word Reverend, or more frequently the abbreviation Rev. or the affectation Rev’d, used as a title rather than as an adjective. When properly used, the adjective is preceded by the article The and the last name is preceded by the given name or initials or a proper title such as Mr., Mrs., Miss, Ms. or Father, Mother, Doctor, Professor, etc.

The following jingle is attributed to Douglas Henry Atwill (1881-1960), bishop of North Dakota 1937-1951:

Call me Brother, if you will.
Call me Parson, better still,
Or if perchance the catholic frill
Doth your heart with longing fill,
Though plain Mister fills the bill,
If that title lacketh thrill,
Then even Father brings no chill
Of hurt, or rancor, or ill will.
To no D. D. do I pretend
Though Doctor doth some honor lend.
Preacher, Pastor, Rector, Friend,
Titles, almost without end,
Never grate and ne’er offend;
A loving ear to all I bend,
But how the man my heart doth rend
Who blithely calls me Reverend.

Oct. 11 was National Coming Out Day, when closeted gay and transgender people are encouraged to stop living a lie and instead be true to themselves and others.  But what does it say about a supposedly free society when so many citizens are afraid of being honest? In the 12 years since I have been totally out, I was disinherited by my parents and forbidden to visit them.  Some other family members also have nothing to do with me.  I was fired from a professional position after events beginning with blatant anti-gay bias.

Contractors refused to give me an estimate when they saw our rainbow flag.  I received hate mail and hate phone calls.  I get epithets and obscene gestures while driving with my rainbow-colored bumper sticker reading, “Teach tolerance.” I am openly jeered if I hold hands with my spouse in public.  One priest asked me to leave his parish.  Twice men threatened to kill me.

This suggests why so many gays and transgenders are afraid of being honest.  However, integrity is well worth whatever price – and advances a truly free society where we all are equal and need not live in fear.