Not The Good News, but good news At last! I can now officially tell the world (or that tiny portion of it which reads my scribblings!) that which was the worst-kept secret in MLPK - to wit, I HAVE A NEW JOB! :)

In early September the herd of Moose will be striking northwards to sojourn once more in the East Midlands, in Northampton to be precise, which may or may not be a city, depending upon who you ask!

On September 23rd I'll be licensed as Priest-in-Charge of St. Mary's, Dallington and Chaplain in the University of Northampton, two half-time posts which I will try to ensure don't both become more than that!

Dallington looks like a typical East Midlands village, especially if you look at it's heart - the honeyed-stone church opposite the pub, the Old Schools serving as the Church Hall, the almshouses etc... until you notice it's been swallowed up by Northampton - in the form of a couple of council estates! New readers may correct me if I'm wrong, but there appear to be no real links between the congregation and the denizens of the estates. Welcome to the Church of England! It's been rather left to wind down over the past decade or more, so while it remains a big challenge, it's going to need a slow pace and a loving hand.

Having said all that, the University (the second in Northampton!) is typical of the latest batch of universities, an HE college that has grown up. My ministry there will be a gift from the diocese (of Peterborough) and will involve working alongside a group of other lay and ordained, Christian and non-Christian colleagues. There's a Multi Faith Chaplaincy Centre, but no regular Christian worship, yet! I get the feeling that the paces of the two places could be refreshingly different. Dallington isn't close enough to be a student parish, and St Mary's certainly isn't a student church (Common Worship Traitional Language - pray for me!)

We're now in the process of arranging a move while the Vicarage is being spruced up ready for us. So it's busy, busy, busy!

And there's another thing. I'll have to rename the blog. I have an idea I might followup, but not a re-hash of this. NN5seven doesn't have quite the same ring to it, does it?

Labels: Faith, Life

  ¶ 11:59 am 4 comments

  From the Archives: Minister's Musings August 2006 I'm trying to write the latest letter for one of the local publications in MLPK, and have just checked the letters for the last few years. (Whether I'm trying to find something to steal or trying avoid repetition I'll leave you to decide!)

However, having read last August's I thought (in my vanity) that maybe it deserved an airing - to prove I'm still alive and, if nothing else, to remind us about the change in the weather!

As I write this we are all sweltering in the heat wave. (I can't predict what it will be like by the time you read this letter, of course)! Still, a little reading around in newspapers and on the Internet finds plenty of stories of drought, complaints about petty regulations, and, of course, comparisons to 1976.

I'm old enough to remember that summer, but not in any real detail. Old enough to ride around on my bike with my friends, no money worries, no concept of drugs, alcohol or sex. The privileged life of a child. The only different thing about 1976 for me was seeing lots of seriously brown lawns. I've not noticed them here in 2006!

Are your memories of '76 as simple and nostalgic? (If you have any, of course)! Nostalgia, fondly looking back at the past, is something most of us engage in. We might not quite say “when I was young...” like the stereotypical senior citizen, but the thought's there. The danger of thinking that somehow life was better then. Simpler. Slower. More tuneful, even!

But was it really? In some ways, maybe. But in most cases life was just different. We've seen lots of technological progress, personal computers, mobile phones, iPods and countless other things. But have they all made life better? All I know is that nobody asked us. I doubt if any of us have ever really thought it through. It just happened. Like Topsy and Tim we “just growed.” Technology and thought progressed, and we consumed.

Nostalgia can be a way of anchoring us in time, giving us some landmarks in our lifelines. Even so the saying is true “nostaligia ain't what it used to be!” Most of the time it wasn't quite as golden as we remember it. Human nature hasn't changed, even if we might cringe at some of the attitudes of 30 years ago or so. (Just watch old episodes of some old sitcoms to find them – and not just The Good Life!) The cure for nostalgia is engagement. Finding what it really was like.

And God, as revealed in Jesus, hasn't changed either. As a society our ignorance of Christian faith has increased, as a culture our understanding is disappearing. The cure remains the same – to find in the pages of the story of Jesus a character and a message as relevant now as it was 30 years ago or 300 hundred years ago, and beyond. The true question – with nostalgia, with faith, with all of life – is whether we are willing to find out.

I trust that this month, will be one of happy, and accurate, memories!

Labels: Faith, Life, Ponderings

  ¶ 9:08 am 1 comments

  10 things pastors long to hear... Some excellent stuff from St Casserole.

Done for laughs, but as with all humour many a true word is said in jest.

Go read, and don't forget the comments.

On a more serious note: why don't I ever think in these terms? Answer: because I'm burning out and need that change.

Labels: Faith, Life, Recommendations

  ¶ 9:12 am 1 comments

  Believing Thomas Funny things, labels. They tend to stick. To the exclusion of anything else. Names and associations from the Bible still have weight, embedded in culture, even if the culture has apparently moved on. For example, have you ever met a Judas? I haven't.

And today the Church remembers another labelled individual. Thomas, rarely referred to without his prefix, "Doubting" Thomas. The one apostle who as far as we know dared to speak for the majority of us when he said unless he could see and touch the resurrected Christ that he would not believe. A worthy saint for scientists and sceptics.

Yet, as I was reminded this morning he does have another name and another side. Thomas the Apostle. Faithful Thomas. The apostle who, when confronted with Jesus wish to return to dangerous territory, a place that might even cost him his life, en route to raising his friend Lazarus from the dead, said, "Let us also go and die with him." That's not the language of a doubter. That's belief and trust.

And lest we forget: very little evidence of the ministry of the apostles has passed down the centuries to us. We don't really know much of their mission and journeys, just a few uncertain tales and legends. About Thomas comes the story of his journey to South India (far more probably some disciples of his school), and a martyrdom. But, unlike so many other apostles his name lives on in the ancient-rooted Mar Thoma church and other related groups.

"Doubting" Thomas? Somehow I doubt it!

Almighty and eternal God,
who for the firmer foundation of our faith,
allowed your holy apostle Thomas
to doubt the resurrection of your Son
till word and sight convinced him:
grant to us, who have not seen, that we may also believe
and so confess Christ as our Lord and our God;
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and forever.

Labels: Faith, Life

  ¶ 8:23 am 1 comments

  Here we go again! I have just heard, via the delights of email, that GrandParental Midlands City post wants me for interview. Not bad for the day after applications closed! (What do the others know that I don't?)

The only real question in my mind is... will the other candidate be another middle-aged woman? (Not that I have anything against middle-aged women, of course!)

This is unquestionably Good News. Prayers would, as always, be appreciated.

Labels: Faith, Life

  ¶ 12:28 pm 2 comments

  Saturday Sermon-Block The title says it all really. I have a talk for Tea Time Worship, but that's usually a little less difficult since I tend to use only the one text. Sunday mornings are, however, a different matter. Since I see scripture as important we tend to use the three readings (although not, in common with much Anglicanism to my experience, the psalm... but that's a separate point).

It's not that the readings are incompatible, far from it (even if sometimes at this time of the year the Semi-Continuous sequence reading sometimes seems to fit better with the theme than the Related one). It could be something about the nature of the setup here, where the afternoon is the main service, but both the same set of readings is used through the day. Now that I think of it one reason for that has now passed... but never mind. It's more likely to be something about dynamics (and if I've written all this before I apologise now). It's very different, and difficult, to preach to a congregation that can be counted in single figures. It might sound strange, but I think I know them too well. Of course, possibly I should stop worrying about upsetting people, but with that few you really can't afford to do it! In a bigger congregation somehow it's easier to be challenging or provocative - there is statistically a good chance that something might hit home. But with a small congregation you can almost be sure of hitting the target should you so choose a target. Maybe that's better left for a different setting (although we have no different settings).

On my bad days I just feel like I'm giving people what they want to hear (which isn't always what they need to hear, of course).

All this is hiding the point: I have all sorts of material for the morning, in one great big formless blob. I've had ample time for preparation, but I'm lacking something. That holy cornflour, the divine baking powder, simply isn't there.

Which is why it's easier to write about just about anything else. Like my discovery of Faithspace and the presence of a certain Longsuffering Clockmaker (let the reader understand!) or my renewed intrest in Role-Playing Games following my recent trip to London and the final publication of Caratan in Tradetalk 15. I'm finally a published author! (Admittedly in this case virtue is it's own reward and my "pay" is a free copy of the magazine, but there is something tremendous about seeing your own stuff in (somebody else's) print.)

I could even point to the Annual Area Church Meeting on Friday a week back and deconstruct at length the significance of those who attended and those who didn't (a straightforward, age-based divide), of the fact that our back door seems as wide as our welcoming arms, or our/my inability to translate good relations into life-changing faith encounters (and yes I know, that's God's job, but you know what I mean!)

And then there's the spotting of a Lesser Snark and the opportunity it entails. So the paperwork is in and thoughts and prayers are bending towards Grandparental Midlands City and a good-looking post, mixing challenge and comfort, familiarity and possibility. We still might make the Great Escape from MLPK yet, and maybe in time for the new school year. Prayers would, of course, be appreciated.

But while I can witter for England I have things to do. I need to dig out the Journals for amusing anecdotes about Alex over at Faithspace, not to mention resisting the lure of my new presence on Facebook (as well as finding a better picture). Then there's not doing the lawns and hedges, not spending money I haven't got... and making another coffee. Heaven forbid, I might have to try that sermon again....

Labels: Faith, Life, Prevarication, Role-Playing Games

  ¶ 1:41 pm 1 comments

  On London I had earlier this week one of those things that has been increasingly rare of late. That was a trip into London. As a man who is on record as saying that he would rather work abroad than in London that may seem a little strange. Maybe I've changed, but I still wouldn't want to have to commute into the Big Smokeless.

The occasion for the trip was our annual Deanery Chapter excursion. The first one I did was to the London Institute for Contemporary Christianity two years back, and it was a good day. Last year we managed a tour of the Houses of Parliament and an hour or so with Lord Anderson of Swansea on the role and place of Christians within Parliament, which was also highly enjoyable and stimulating, even if we had to concentrate over the lobbying of protesters using the novel approach of taking to the Thames with loudhailers to make their point.

This week it was St. Paul's Cathedral for the adptly-named "Super Tour" preceded by half an hour or so with the lovely Lucy Winkett (am I allowed to say that? Oh well, I have!) After looking slightly harrassed and apologising profusely for not being able to give us more time, we were treated to a short account of how things work "from the inside", about the ways the Cathedral is trying to engage the visitors in the liminality of the cathedral, the thin-place between earth and heaven, rather than being a mere tourist attraction, museum or architectural glory.

It was all rather encouraging and "helpful". Did you know for example that of 1.7 million people who visit the cathedral in a year (yes, 1.7 million!) that the majority are worshippers rather than tourists? (1m) I didn't! Then there was all the stuff about how you re-order the worship in such a place and the need to put in a new organ console, so that the organist can actually see the choir in Eucharistic worship, and so on.

The tour was highly enjoyable too, contemplating John Donne's memorial (carved while he was still alive and lying in a coffin to simulate death, no less), the incongruity of gorgeous Byzantine ceiling mosaics juxtaposed with clear glass in the windows. Not to mention the veritable biographic treasure trove that is the crypt: the likes of Hubert Parry and Antony Van Dyke, and Florence Nightingale (one of only three women to be buried there) between the solid, no-nonsense Cornish stone tomb of the Duke of Wellington and the rather extravagent casket seized by the crown from Cardinal Wolsely before being used to house the mortal remains of a very different national icon, Viscount Horatio Nelson. You could spend many a happy hour in the presence of the memorials to the departed - although what I found most moving was the memorial for UK personnel killed in Korea, facing the late nurse Nightingale.

After a decision to tramp the hundreds of stairs to the Whispering Gallery, the Stone Gallery and up to the Lantern I made the most of the opportunity to do a little eating and shopping near Leicester Square. To get there needed a quick trip on the Tube (which I always enjoy, proof that I've never travelled it in the rush hour, I suspect!) and then a random to decision to alight at Covent Garden and walk to Seven Dials to find my restaurant of choice. If I hadn't still have been feeling slightly fatigued from the stairs of St Paul's I would probably have taken the tannoy warnings about not using the stairs in the tube station ("the equivalent to a 15 storey building") as a worthy challenge!

Unable to find the delights of The Souk unaided (I was working from memory, after all - and one that had been operating through a gentle alcoholic haze at the time!) I was forced (such hardship!) to confront the Role-Playing goodness of the competent and accessible Orcs Nest first. Having parted with a modicum of credit for the Traveller 1248 setting material and Mongoose RQ Glorantha 2nd Age (and inexplicably failing to pick up the Classic Traveller reprint volume of the final installment of the Journal of the Travellers Aid Society) I obtained directions to my chosen food outlet. And very pleasant it was too! I can think of fewer simple pleasures than eating houmous and pitta bread to the accompaniment of a good book and a cold beer on a hot day!

It was the sort of day that I don't, and can't afford to do, too often. It, and the experiences of the occasional LondonGlorantha outing for chat, beer, more chat, more beer, food... and more beer, will mean that I will miss London when we finally do escape from MLPK, unless we don't travel too far.

Still, despite the delights of the week I now have to prepare for a very different delight: the Annual Area Church Meeting. Oh well, at least I organised it in the pub and we're having a buffet supper...

Labels: Faith, Life, Role-Playing Games

  ¶ 9:44 am 0 comments

  Strangers and Aliens While I would hesitate to call myself a townie, I'm not really a country lad either. My home stomping ground in the Midlands had farmland within easy walking distance (in fact even in sight of my bedroom window for the first few years).

But my passing acquaintance with dairy farming doesn't stretch to the phenomenon seen each year here, as scores of foreign teenagers descend on eurosceptic Kent to pick the fruit crops that few of our local young people will touch.

It makes this BBC news article all that more relevant. I'm sure none of the shoppers at my local ASDA would miss the busloads of migrant shoppers who appear in the summer months, but I bet they'd miss the strawberries and fruit, sourced from within the county with great fanfare. Which appears to be a real possibility if this report is to be believed.

And why won't our own folks do the job? For the same reason that Polish Plumbers have become legendary: the relative expectations of pay and workloads.

(I'm also forced to admire Father Noel, who each year puts up signs in a variety of European languages and scripts to offer Holy Communion to any migrant workers as may wish it of an evening. I don't think he gets many takers, and I fail to see how they could understand the English of the Prayer Book, but it's a practical response to the care of the alien within our midst.)

Labels: Faith, Life, Ponderings

  ¶ 10:31 am 0 comments

  Don't just do something, sit there! Almost in response to my last post, comes this from the CofE website.

And what are we going to do about it? Where can I get several dozen egg-timers from, and more to the point, would I get up to get those who catch the 0530 train to London?

Guilty as charged?

Labels: Faith, Life, Recommendations

  ¶ 8:53 am 0 comments

  On the death of a dream, and after How can you speak of failure in the context of mission? Even in terms of regular ministry? I have had numerous people tell me that there is no such thing as failure in this context - the nearest thing to seems to be to say that you failed to reach your expectations, or that they were unrealistic. Not to mention the truism that we can never truly know the value of our endeavours in the longer term.

All these things are true. And I have failed. I've failed to live up to my potential, and I need to address that.

Now that the Fellowship have appointed their own full-time Minister I can let go properly of any hope of unity in the form I had envisaged when I arrived. Now I can look more reasonably at the contributory factors and decide what constitutes my failure.

I still believe that God called us here. Even if enthusiasm blinded me to any reasonable caution I should have had. Curacy does not train you for mission. I understand that a lot better now than I did then. It teaches you your place within the institution that is the church, whether that is the immediate local, parochial context, the wider structure, and even the physical building that is the church. It does not prepare you for an enthusiastic group of Christians, mainly from outside your "tradition" and all their expectations. Expectations which have arisen in the absence of a Minister, but with just as many implicit preconceptions of how church is to be done and how faith is to be lived out. It does not prepare you for all the issues which come with a lack of focal point in the built environment.

I came with ideas, but no clearly articulated vision. Instead I had hoped to spend time meeting people, learning about the opportunities, the expectations, that lay on the ground. With hindsight I allowed myself to be rushed into action. My insecurity in the face of a different vision and 'institution' set me on a confrontational/competitive course almost immediately. I'm not saying I'm the only one who made mistakes: there have been (unintentional, and dare I say those whch look frightening close to deliberate) mistakes by all parties. I'm not enough of a spiritual masochist to say it's all my own fault, but there are things I have to take responsibility for.

For an unwillingness to stand my ground a lot earlier than I did, as much as the places where I buckled under the pressure of expectations.

For the creeping apathy which sees the cause as lost and an attendant unwillingness to really ask for help, or to act upon the offers made.

For failing to perceive the way ahead in nurturing those I have care of, as much as seeking to spark interest in the pastoral enquirers.

For seeing the negative in the situations, "the iceberg rather than the promised land."

For failing to act on so many bright ideas (even if some other discerning individuals around would be helpful rather than the ovine tendency to say "if you say so").

I'm sure there's more of the same. Maybe there is no such thing as failure in toto, but I have failed. I have failed to truly live my calling. I have failed to live the life that marks out Christian faith as distinctive and so failed to draw others closer to Christ.

Maybe this is all part of the grief process, of letting go for that which is not to be.

Thank God that we believe in forgiveness and restoration, or more to the point that he has already demonstrated it in Jesus.

"If we confess our sins he is faithful and just. He will forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness."

And to live that means to continually confront and battle with my own fallible nature, which will find this stream-of-consciousness theological reflection preferable to the important tasks of the day!

Somehow the Collect for today seemed to help crystalise these ponderings, and it never does any harm to end with a prayer...

God our redeemer,
who called your servant Boniface
to preach the gospel among the German people
and to build up your Church in holiness:
grant that we may preserve in our hearts
that faith which he taught with his words
and sealed with his blood,
and profess it in lives dedicated to your Son
Jesus Christ our Lord,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever. Amen

...although maybe ending in response to prayer might be even better! So how am I going to live the Gospel today?

Labels: Faith, Ponderings

  ¶ 8:29 am 1 comments

  Stories and Values I have an aversion to Enid Blyton. Don't ask me why. I don't know. I have never knowlingly as a child read any of her stories, nor had them read to me. They seemed pretty old fashioned when I was growing up. Biggles, yes. And if I could get them all cheap I would (and I mean cheap!) But not Enid Blyton.

Nevertheless when LM is due a bedtime story it's hard to refuse her choices, unless they are obviously books way to young for her. We have plenty of hand-downs, including the wonderfully illustrated Ladybird Books I remember as a child, as well as plenty of things we have not bought. Which explains how I came across The China Rabbit. If the copyright dates are to be believed its from 1923.

It's a little twee - a story set in the nursery about the antics of the toys and what happens when an imp appears out of a mousehole and comes to abduct the talking-doll. Despite the best efforts of sailor to protect her the only way the imp is defeated is when the China Rabbit tells sailor to throw him at the imp. From the mantlepiece. With the inevitable consequences. The villain is defeated not by strength but by sacrifice. There's restorative justice too, since the imp happens to have some magical glue and is not released until he has restored the thousands of tiny pieces of china back into place and returned the rabbit to life.

It just struck me that I haven't read any similar stories to LM at all. In 5 years. Fun stories. Enjoyable stories. Lots of them. Plenty of valuable stuff about sharing. Stuff about cunning defeating bad and naughty people. But nothing about sacrifice, about elevating others needs above your own. And, come to think about it, nothing about putting things right either, unless I'm greatly mistaken.

I wonder what other similar stories there are around, or maybe, used to be around. How many "mainstream" attitudes of former generations have been lost or bowdlerised beyond recognition. And of course, without trying to sound like a fuddy-duddy, what effect they have had on our communal nurture and ensuing common life? (And I include myself in that too!)

Labels: Faith, Life, Ponderings

  ¶ 9:30 am 1 comments

  Pentecost surprises Last Sunday we decided to do something different for Pentecost. Tea Time Worship morphed, for one Sunday only, into Cafe church. Out went the horse-shoe of chairs, in came round tables and sitting through the songs. Out went the talk, and in came interactive activity - getting the congregation to draw pictures of their houses and blu-tac them on the wall next to the street name - to try to show something about our footprint in the community. Even giving a chance to write any questions they might have which I can then pick up for future weeks and talks. Not just hot drinks at the end of the service, but at the beginning too.

It worked rather well, and the look on the face of one of the elderly regulars was priceless! "This isn't church! It's not how we do it!" But isn't that exactly the lesson of the first Pentecost - adding the breath of the Spirit and the followers of The Way into the traditional celebration?

The only difference? This year Pentecost co-incided with what the older generation would call the Whitsun Bank Holiday (and no, I've never called it that and I have nearly 4 decades under my belt!) so numbers were down. Fewer regulars and fewer young families. MLPK, like, I suspect, many other new developments, simply empties over major festivals and Bank Holidays. (Having said that, I just checked the register: I had expected the numbers be down, but looking at the records they weren't too bad, 15 over 16 and 8 below, the best for a month!)

Even so, the point remains: what's the point of celebrating the major festivals, which by now have become public holidays, if the majority of your (potential) congregation have fled? Maybe it's time to re-invent the calendar, ad do things when there is a better chance that people will actually be here?

Labels: Faith, Life

  ¶ 2:38 pm 1 comments

  When I survey Not the title of the Easter hymn, but simply one of many titles I could have found for this post (and probably the safest).

I may, or may not, have mentioned recently that I needed to do a survey in MLPK about the need and desire for some sort of church/community building. The content of the questions and the strategy of sampling were broadly agreed, and two weeks or so ago the questionnaires went out.

The 5 questions asked whether a dedicated centre for Christian Worship would be helpful, whether additional community facilities would be useful as part of it, whether people would be willing to make a financial contribution, ideas for a suitable place, and because other local ministers asked, whether local churches met the respondents "spiritual needs." For each there were "Yes", "No" and "Don't Know" tickboxes, with space for additional comments.

174 were delivered over the 100 or so streets, using a systematic sample, going to the same house numbers on each street. Although I'm not totally sure of the total number of letterboxes in MLPK that represents somewhere between five and ten percent of all households. That makes it a pretty good sample rate if my memory is correct.

Ten points for questionnaire return were provided, in schools, gym, pub, coffee shop, doctors' surgery, supermarket, community hall, golf club as well as the vicarage. Just about anywhere that anyone in MLPK might reasonably visit in a normal fortnight.

I have only two collection boxes left to bring in (from the schools) - and I already know the sort of number of responses in one of them.

Given that, and knowing that a response of about 30% is generally regarded as a good one (53 of the questionnaires distributed), how many do you think I've got back?

100?

75?

Taking my cue from Abraham (Genesis 18) how many do you think?

50?

45?

40?

30?

20?

10?

The Answer....

... wait for it...

2.

That's right: 2.

1.15% of the total survey.

I had expected to be disappointed. I had expected to not reach a significant threshold. But 2! And, of course, to add insult to injury the one location I'd suspected might return the most response (the temple to bodily perfection) can't find the return box. In other words whoever I spoke to either couldn't care less or didn't have the authority to give me permission to install the box in the first place.

I don't know whether to cry, seethe, rant or just despair at the minute.

Am I living in Sodom? (Possibly). Apathy City? (Absolutely)

I already knew that the Church of England, even Christian faith, is of marginal value here in MLPK, and nationally I suspect, but any illusions I had have been blown away again.

So, if you responded, thank you. Oh, and by the way, to say to the question "Do you feel the local churches meet your spiritual needs?" that you "have not explored them" is more telling than you think. MLPK in a nutshell. A practical statement that says "we have no spiritual needs, thank you."

In the week after Pentecost I'm sorely tempted to ask God to let the fire fall, and the fire of Genesis 19) not the fire of the Spirit.

In the mean time maybe I need to find another job. Door to door double-glazing sales, perhaps?

Meanwhile I'll take my cue from The Animals:

Labels: Faith, Grumbles, Life

  ¶ 1:08 pm 2 comments

  A Parable for Pentecost In trying to prepare a sermon for Sunday morning I've been through my old ones. I discovered this from last year. If anyone wishes to use it, feel free.

There were once three men who lived in a hot, barren and rocky land. One day each of them noticed that a spring had appeared on his land, and the waters were making a lovely pool. It was cool and refreshing. Each man gave thanks to God and wondered what he should do with the pool and the water.

The first man said, “I know. I'll use it to swim in. I will float in it. Splash in it. Luxuriate in it.” And so he did. He even invited his friends to join him in enjoying it. But outside his neighbours continued to suffer in the heat, dust and barrenness.

The second man thought differently. “I know,” he said, ”I will channel it and help it to flow through my land. I will make little waterfalls and pools, so I can relax at the end of each hard day's work to the sound, and I will drink the fresh water.” And so he did. But outside his neighbours continued to suffer in the heat, dust and barrenness.

The third man said, “I know. There's enough here for everyone. I will invite my neighbours to come and use the water. Together we can drink it, swim in it, listen to its sounds and use it to water our lands and crops.” And so he did. And his neighbours became his friends and the land became green and fruitful and they all gave glory to God.

Let those have ears to hear, hear.

Labels: Faith, Prevarication

  ¶ 9:32 am 1 comments

  On Third Thoughts... Most of my regular readers will know my mixture of feelings about ministry here in MLPK. About the factors I cannot change, some of which I need to let drop and leave in God's care, and the ones I wouldn't want to change. I'm exhausted after a very busy two weeks. The sort of satisfied exhaustion that comes from knowing you've been doing the right thing.

I don't know how busy most of my clerical readers are, but for me four weddings (in three different churches - with rehearsals), two mid-week services (in two different venues), one baptism and one funeral (in a cemetary I'd never visited before), plus two 8am Communions out of parish constitute a busy fortnight - especially when my "home fixtures", for lack of a better phrase, are done using church in a box (or from two suitcases to be correct).

Add into the equation (if I haven't mentioned it already) the car breaking down on the way to the funeral (having already put on my cassock for lack of knowledge of the cemetary) and arriving in an AA van, and I think it's fair to say it's been a rather eventful few days!

The point is that now the Christian Fellowship here have actually got their minister, and being suitably refreshed by a round of out of area activities, I'm far less fussed about getting away from MLPK. Having said that there are several three interesting possiblities in the Church Times this week (and if you think you know me well enough to guess them, then why not have a go?) and I feel a lot less stressed and intimidated by matters here.

On the one hand I've felt a lot happier of late for simply acknowledging there is a problem, but on the other I know that the tiredness and burnout won't go away. Plenty of people don't want to see us go, and I still worry somewhat that it'll all collapse in a heap if we do, but the longer-term issues remain unsolved.

All in all it means more prayer and discernment is needed. Last Bank Holiday (I think) I had the best time of praise and worship for a few years, even if it was just me, my guitar and the Spirit, but I still don't really know the way ahead. I have to plan here as if I have no intention of leaving, and plan my escape as if I have no intention of remaining! We asked God to make it clear, but I'm no way clear enough to phone the Bishop and say actually we got it all horribly wrong...

All a bit like the waiting between Ascension and Pentecost, perhaps - as long as we remember that the disciples didn't really have any clear idea of what they were waiting for either.....

Labels: Faith, Life, Ponderings

  ¶ 6:56 pm 1 comments

  Hightened Perspectives Sitting at my desk tired and somewhat unwell I have just read Kathryn's blog with her thoughts on Ascension Day. I have to admit that I might be of a different generation and background, because it's only in recent years that I've been able to see Ascension as anything other than a bit of a Cinderella. Yes, I was lucky enough to go to a school with a Chapel and Chaplain, but all I remember Ascension Day for was a compulsory Chapel service at 1230pm.

Of course, now I find the most fascinating, even moving, part of the thoughts around the Ascension is that not only did the coming of the Word of God in Jesus not leave humanity unchanged, but that he also could not return to the glory of heaven unchanged, instead taking a perfected and renewed human body in the heavenly realm for all time. "A man there sits in glory now, divine, yet human still" as the Modern (in the sense of 1950s) hymn puts it.

This year marked the first year in Kings Hill that I ran an Ascension Day Communion, ironically at 1230pm, in the hall. Also last night I presided at a parish not far away while their Rector (who one of the parishioners described as "a breath of fresh air") is off on a cruise for his holiday.

I don't wish to spoil the theological thoughts, but there was something for which I was even more profoundly grateful than the celebration of the Ascension: the combination of Lesson Readers, an Intercessor, a musician and a server! To not be the "one-man band" was for me also a much-needed "breath of fresh air!" (Lord, I want more!)

Labels: Faith, Life

  ¶ 10:21 am 0 comments

  All shall be well...

*Mother Julian’s Eve*

The first change in the weather has come.

Stiff winds have blown

blossom off the trees and

scattered it haphazardly,

with new leaves and litter,

along the hedgerows and pavements.

There is a chill

under the clear night sky,

and the dogs race for home,

walk and duty done.

Tomorrow God’s gathered friends

will bring cleansing

into a violated home, and

healing into abused lives,

as we plead Christ’s sacrifice

and his awesome victory.

The wind of the Spirit,

gift of the Father through the Son,

will blow where he wishes

in his usual unpredictable way.

But Satan’s worst will be

driven far away and

all shall be well.

(C) David Grieve 2007

Labels: Faith, Poetry

  ¶ 9:14 am 0 comments

  Road to Nowhere? I'm sure some of my readers will remember the 1980s song, even if, like me they'd be strecthed to remember who performed it. You will, also, I suspect have divined the nature of this post!

So, not only did I withdraw from Small Midlands City (and feel a little bad for doing so when there is nothing that the folks could have done about it), but neither am I going to Nice Team Vicar Job Just Down The Road. Then again, nobody is , they decided not to appoint. I am disappointed, all the more so for two reasons, revealed after discussion with Neighbouring Archdeacon.

One is the answer to the question I posed a while back - can you be too honest? The answer seems to be yes. In a situation where unanimity cannot be found saying anything which might bring doubts is not a good idea, especially if you volunteer that information. I don't think I talked myself out of the post, but I could have stayed stumm and aided it. Still, I am me.

The second thought is at present nothing more than a suspicion. A doubt. A possibility of an ironic twist. I remember a conversation with my training incumbent some years ago. The gist of it was to always be looking towards the post after the one you're applying for. The original context was a particularly pleasant, and from the paperwork at least, rather comfortable University Chaplaincy (from a newish Oxbridge College, IIRC). There were no doubts about whether I could do it, more about how it would be perceived by potential new posts when the time came to move on.

And herein lies the rub. By having been doing a highly-unusual, mission-based job over the past few years I do not have much in the way of experience when it comes to running a regular parish. Worse than that any experience I did have a curate is now rather dated.

It would be the cruellest irony of all to find that in exploring "new forms" of mission (or whatever you wish to call it), going to the edges in the way that we are being encouraged to do and has to be done, that I should find myself hindered in returning to something a little more mainstream.

It's only a suspicion, not a guaranteed fact. But it does make you wonder...

Has anyone else come up with any similar experiences?

Labels: Faith, Life, Ponderings

  ¶ 6:52 am 1 comments

  Through the wringer... I have never owned a wringer or a mangle, but in distant student days I did, for a while, regularly hand-wash my clothes. Why I can't quite fathom, possibly just the novelty value, combined with the time to do it. The phase didn't last long, but I do remember the experience of wringing out the towels, twisting them into contorted knots in an effort to extract as much as possible from them before putting them on the line.

This week I think I've learned how the towel must have felt!

This week GLW, LMP and myself made the journey to Small Midlands City for the familiarisation visit for the first Boojum. GLW and I got very excited on the way, planning and plotting about all the possibilities the post provided. It was a busy six hours: an awful lot to absorb, but an interesting challenge, a fantastic house, a garden of gargantuan proportions (which would have meant buying one of those tractor lawnmowers and made the chore enjoyable) and lots to think about. And that was before an evening of "speed-dating" various officers and members of the PCC to try to get a feel for the place!

We left feeling positive about it. If I'd been offered the post that evening I think we would have taken it. Only when Friday dawned did we begin to balance the picture, but not too much because I had to prepare for Boojum number 2: Nice Team Vicar Job Just Down The Road, as well as being seriously tired from arriving back in MLPK at 1230am!

So yesterday we had the interview for NTVJJDTR. And what is it about these posts? In both cases there are only two candidates, myself and an older lady... I felt that the interview went pretty well, aware of my weaknesses, but we're all human. The tour was good, although I was glad I'd had a preview visit with the Team Rector a few weeks back. The house was bigger than I remembered and GLW, LMP and LM (for she came too) all liked it. I had a chance to chat to pleny of folks over a buffet lunch with Real Sherry Trifle for afters (GLW does not approve of alcohol, so it was a rare treat!) and found myself chatting with cadidate number 2 - the pressure was off so it didn't matter. The whole experience was just, well it's a cliche, but lovely.

It was sitting in the car park that the pieces all came together. The people at NTVJJDTR were just great. The house was fine, and anyway SMC vicarage and garden were just too big to be manageable. The team at NTVJJDTR was established, the worship and churchmanship just my size, SMC was always going to be at the limits of what I could cope with. The only real drawback was that Nice Team Vicar Job Just Down The Road was just down the road and not in Small Midlands City, if only for getting to see our parents.

So decisions have been made, and where my head said one post and my heart the other (interestingly GLW had the same feelings but for the opposite places!) now heads and hearts agree. Not that I slept last night.

This morning I sent a letter (Sunday Collection 1245pm..) to Small Midlands City to withdraw from the application process. In ten years or so, SMC could well be the right post, but not now - for either of us. Too much is at stake and we have to get this right. I hope the folks there understand, but they wanted to get it right, and I wouldn't be, the worship would not sustain me and the job was just too big.

And Nice Team Vicar Job Just Down The Road? I don't know. We're hoping and praying that we are offered it, and there's no hiding the fact that we'll be disappointed if we aren't, but the past few days have clarified the way ahead: If not NTVJJDTR, them something like it. Not SMC. We will not lose sleep agonising over "what ifs."

Although it really might be time to fill in the application form for North Midlands Team Vicar... anything to avoid mowing the lawn (shame about not getting a tractor lawnmower though!)

So Neighbouring Archdeacon, if you're reading this, give me a call. Please.

Labels: Faith, Life

  ¶ 10:54 am 2 comments

  Snarks... or Boojums? So, the Snark hunting continues. Although there has been a variation of late. I've already said, and it remains true, that I'd like to move onto a University/Higher Education Chaplaincy post at some point, but that is easier said than done. There are universities and universities. With 60 expressions of interest and 25+ applicants SW15 showed how popular church college Chaplaincies are. Then there was the North Wales vacancy, which just didn't feel right. This week I took an overnight trip to the University on the South Coast I agonised about for interview - and I think I rather talked myself out of contention. On the one hand I'm disappointed: pastorally it looked very good, but in terms of Management and Isolation I could have found it a struggle. Was I too honest? Can there be such a thing as too honest in the appointment of clergy? A point to ponder. And as for the Traditional Oxbridge College... I really can't see myself in that.

Snarks. There aren't many of them. But Boojums - well that's a different species - translated as Team Vicar or Associate posts. Weed out the Woozles (them in the wilderness) and there's still more Boojums than Snarks around. Which leads to the latest conundrum - a touch of London Bus Syndrome.

Today, ruminating on the day after my "significant birthday minus one", I discovered (to my delight) that yesterday's post, which had lain hidden under a pile of junk magazines and newspapers, contained an invitation to interview in Small Midlands City - a two-stage "familiarisation visit" and "interview-proper." It's a method which makes a lot of sense. So that was good - a positive start to the day.

Then, lo and behold, the phone rings and it's Neighbouring Archdeacon inviting me to Nice Team Vicar Job Just Down The Road. An embarrasment of riches - and with a one day interview, you guessed it... on the Saturday in the middle of the two for Small Midlands City!

So, GLW, LMP and I will visit SMC, probably discover that it feels perfect, even down to the house, only to lead to NTVJJDTR (with rather small house) being offered and left with a difficult decision and no clear divine guidance.

All it needs is Noel Edmonds to step into the room, "Deal... or No Deal?" To take a good offer, or hold out for the other!

Just you wait! I don't possess the gift of prophecy - but I do have some idea of God's sense of humour! (The same one that means North Midlands Team Vicar, which is highly appealing, has interviews on the day I have 2 weddings...)

Fun!

}:) (<- a moose)

Labels: Faith, Life

  ¶ 9:18 pm 1 comments