Thanks for your comments on the post below. I'd hate anyone to think that I expect sermons to sink or swim on the basis of my words alone, or how I've felt about them in preparation. I'm very aware that sometimes God seems to arrive and stand so close to me in the pulpit that I can only try to get out the way altogether and leave the Holy Spirit to get on with it,- and those times won't always be the ones when I've been most conscious of God's presence in preparation. But what baffles me is that those times don't always seem to coincide with congregational response.
For example, the Story of a Church that I blogged earlier this month emerged so rapidly and painlessly, despite my own anxiety about actually preaching it,that I knew very well that I didn't have any option about it. It absolutely wasn't my idea, but very much God's, and he held my hand right the way through the delivery... And yes, one or two people did seem to be touched by it, but not on the perplexing scale of last night.
Of course, it's not impossible that it doesn't feel appropriate to react during the ritual church-door handshake...and then the moment passes. I don't know,- but it does intrigue me.
Meanwhile, yes, Sundays have been stupidly busy of late,- though I was making extra heavy weather of yesterday, due to a maddening early cold. There are certain bits of the structure that aren't negotiable but some of the extra load has been to do with trying to get things sorted before I depart for India. In some ways, this feels rather like a rehearsal for leaving St M's, which will have to happen some time in the next 18 months or so...It's an uncomfortable thought in some ways,- so many special connections with special people, so many dreams dreamed. "Bright ideas" are one of my things,- (I'm a Belbin"plant" and my "completer/finisher" score in is probably actually into negative numbers...) but that doesn't mean that I don't lament the visions that I won't get to see translated into reality in the lives of the people here. So, I've been madly trying to tie up all sorts of loose ends before India, in a thoroughly uncharacteristic way. I guess in some ways, once I get onto the plane I will have so little control of the daily reality of life for the next month, I'm compensating in advance by leaving as much as possible sewn up here.
Anyway, WonderfulVicar told me to treat today as a sick-day. I don't actually feel too foul, so am compromising by sparing the parish my germs, and staying in to complete assorted footlings on the computer, and actually read some of the books threatening to overwhelm my poor innocent desk.
Trevor Pinnock playing Bach on the CD player.
Actually, life's OK ;-)