Alot of things have come together in the past week or so to focus my thoughts on aspirations versus reality...For one thing, I had that wretched essay to write for the Bishop "Reflections on the Diaconal Year and Expectations of Priesthood"...It's that "E" word, isn't it? Here in this parish there is quite a high view of priesthood, such that I can almost see the pedestal under construction as some members of the congregation view my approaching priesting (others, of course, are busy building the bonfire which heretics deserve ;-) ). I hate to disappoint them, but there's no way that I will become the work of finished holiness that some seem to anticipate, this side of eternity,however much Grace is poured upon me on 2nd July!
But I wouldn't be here at all if I didn't have certain aspirations, would I?
To be an effective (oh no...now what does that word mean?) faithful minister of the Gospel in this place...to try to live, however falteringly, as a "walking Sacrament"...oh, I've plenty of aspirations, as well as a pretty good sense of the rather messy reality.
Now Preacher Mom is considering her life as a series of "let's pretend" games, in which she dons a series of masks, and manages to live up to her appointed roles, despite feeling rather different inside. And I know that I do that too...
Does this make me dishonest or brave? Is it hypocrisy to try to live up to one's aspirations, while knowing that the inner reality is still very different. I've tended to cling to some words which I read a long long time ago. I think they may be Augustine, but nobody has ever been able to confirm this
"Not what thou art, nor what thou hast been, but what thou would'st be, beholdest God in his mercy"
That feels like permission to aspire to much, and to try to hold together that sense of huge hopes and chaotic reality. In quite another context, someone quoted Catherine of Siena to me last week
"You are not called to perfection, but to infinite desire..."
I like that. It means I can go on dreaming...
Wednesday, May 04, 2005
Tuesday, May 03, 2005
Blogging as therapy?
Recently there's been a bit of discussion about the purpose of blogging (always an issue for those like myself who are very aware that we've nothing of startling novelty or brilliance to share). Both Gordon and Caroline R had got me thinking, so when I finally got round to reading last week's stuff from the Henri Nouwen Society I was rather excited to read this. Oddly enough, if I'd been up to speed, I should have read this last Tuesday...which, you may remember, was remarkable for rather alot of different events. In the spirit of Nouwen, I can report that I did find the whole muddly experience far more meaningful having blogged about it than I did while living it...
Writing to Save the Day
Writing can be a true spiritual discipline. Writing can help
us to concentrate, to get in touch with the deeper stirrings
of our hearts, to clarify our minds, to process confusing
emotions, to reflect on our experiences, to give artistic
expression to what we are living, and to store significant
events in our memories. Writing can also be good for others
who might read what we write.
Quite often a difficult, painful, or frustrating day can be
"redeemed" by writing about it. By writing we can claim what
we have lived and thus integrate it more fully into our
journeys. Then writing can become lifesaving for us and
sometimes for others too.
Well, reading that made me feel better anyway. Perhaps it's not purely self-indulgence :-)
Writing to Save the Day
Writing can be a true spiritual discipline. Writing can help
us to concentrate, to get in touch with the deeper stirrings
of our hearts, to clarify our minds, to process confusing
emotions, to reflect on our experiences, to give artistic
expression to what we are living, and to store significant
events in our memories. Writing can also be good for others
who might read what we write.
Quite often a difficult, painful, or frustrating day can be
"redeemed" by writing about it. By writing we can claim what
we have lived and thus integrate it more fully into our
journeys. Then writing can become lifesaving for us and
sometimes for others too.
Well, reading that made me feel better anyway. Perhaps it's not purely self-indulgence :-)
Saturday, April 30, 2005
Say it with flowers!
I'm glad to say that Thursday's meeting was not all political. There was lots of helpful conversation about models of ministy, and of work/life balance, and the sharing of some creative new "shapes" of ordained ministry too. We also had a brief discussion about the way different personality types respond to and offer affirmation. As a Myers Briggs ENFP I easily identified with those who tend to spread buckets of praise about the place, and thrive on receiving a fair dollop in return...when someone says to me (as my ISTJ husband did last night) that the essay was "not bad" I assume that this means he hates it and it's unspeakably awful....(OK, I exaggerate a little: but that's what ENFPs do, isn't it?!). The conclusion we came to was that, as a rule of thumb, the amount that people offer praise is the measure by which they would welcome it in return. We also commented on how rarely people actually thank the vicar, even(or specially) at Annual Parochial Church Meetings, and I realised how fortunate I am in my present context. My vicar believes in positive affirmation :-)
So, it turns out, does a family whose baptism prep and service I arranged...The doorbell rang earlier today, and a most enormous and wonderful bouquet was thrust into my startled hands. The baptism, of twins conceived after some years of IVF, had been a joy to be involved in (even allowing for crises such as the non appearance of the organist). I suspect that, in many ways, I should have been the sender and not the recipient of the flowers. Not that I'm proposing to send them back. My honorary mother always says that if you have enough fresh flowers about the place, nobody notices the heaps of dust. Now's a great chance to test the theory...
So, it turns out, does a family whose baptism prep and service I arranged...The doorbell rang earlier today, and a most enormous and wonderful bouquet was thrust into my startled hands. The baptism, of twins conceived after some years of IVF, had been a joy to be involved in (even allowing for crises such as the non appearance of the organist). I suspect that, in many ways, I should have been the sender and not the recipient of the flowers. Not that I'm proposing to send them back. My honorary mother always says that if you have enough fresh flowers about the place, nobody notices the heaps of dust. Now's a great chance to test the theory...
WATCH and pray
I spent part of Thursday with a group of ordained women in the diocese…the first such gathering for some time, if I’m not mistaken. It was interesting that responses to the invitation had been quite hostile from some women, who felt that by even meeting together we were putting back the clock to the bad old days. They seemed very sure that gender issues no longer mattered in the diocese at all and could not imagine any possible value in being together.
Regular readers will know that my experience here gives the lie to that. Who knows quite what may happen in the parish on 3rd July when I celebrate the Eucharist for the first time? Writing that essay for the Bishop, I was aware that the “expectations of priesthood” part was dominated by anxiety over the reactions of some key people here…I’d barely begun to address what the reality of priesthood might mean for me.
Meanwhile, our hostess of Thursday is married to the vicar of one of the bastions of exclusive church, though I should stress that he himself is on the side of the angels. Indeed, he and the Bishop (God bless him: he is such a wonderful man!) have plans to change things in that parish, and C. has a half-time parish post a few miles away, with the positive expectation from the diocese that whenever she is not leading Sunday worship there, she will attend the Eucharist in her husband’s church, duly collared, just to remind the congregation that ordained women are indeed a reality.
It felt wonderfully subversive to be in a room stuffed with ordained women just yards away from this high profile traditional shrine! We joked about storming the citadel and hugging the pillars…would they crumble at our touch??
One girl reported back from WATCH, which anticipates increasing hostility from Reform and Forward in Faith in the weeks leading up to the General Synod debate on women bishops, and encouraged us to support their campaigns. The expectation is that, since there is no logical reason not to ordain women bishops in a church that has an inclusive priesthood, all the old arguments about ordaining women at all are likely to surface again, complete with the oh-so-essential vitriol. As one woman commented, it will be a “Last Stand”, and those are traditionally bloody affairs.
I would never see myself as remotely militant…my conscious journey towards ordination began only when the door had already been opened by others and I doubt if I would have found the strength to be obedient to God’s call if I’d had to fight to have it recognised. But I thank God for my calling every day, and for those braver than I who worked to make it possible. So I’m posting off my membership form later today…Being largely liberal types, who keep hoping that people will be reasonable, the pro-women groups within Synod are less adept at high profile military style campaigns. FiF and Reform have memberships in the thousands; even if you’re not a natural joiner, now might be a good time to consider it, if you feel that the church is the richer for the gifts of ordained women.
Regular readers will know that my experience here gives the lie to that. Who knows quite what may happen in the parish on 3rd July when I celebrate the Eucharist for the first time? Writing that essay for the Bishop, I was aware that the “expectations of priesthood” part was dominated by anxiety over the reactions of some key people here…I’d barely begun to address what the reality of priesthood might mean for me.
Meanwhile, our hostess of Thursday is married to the vicar of one of the bastions of exclusive church, though I should stress that he himself is on the side of the angels. Indeed, he and the Bishop (God bless him: he is such a wonderful man!) have plans to change things in that parish, and C. has a half-time parish post a few miles away, with the positive expectation from the diocese that whenever she is not leading Sunday worship there, she will attend the Eucharist in her husband’s church, duly collared, just to remind the congregation that ordained women are indeed a reality.
It felt wonderfully subversive to be in a room stuffed with ordained women just yards away from this high profile traditional shrine! We joked about storming the citadel and hugging the pillars…would they crumble at our touch??
One girl reported back from WATCH, which anticipates increasing hostility from Reform and Forward in Faith in the weeks leading up to the General Synod debate on women bishops, and encouraged us to support their campaigns. The expectation is that, since there is no logical reason not to ordain women bishops in a church that has an inclusive priesthood, all the old arguments about ordaining women at all are likely to surface again, complete with the oh-so-essential vitriol. As one woman commented, it will be a “Last Stand”, and those are traditionally bloody affairs.
I would never see myself as remotely militant…my conscious journey towards ordination began only when the door had already been opened by others and I doubt if I would have found the strength to be obedient to God’s call if I’d had to fight to have it recognised. But I thank God for my calling every day, and for those braver than I who worked to make it possible. So I’m posting off my membership form later today…Being largely liberal types, who keep hoping that people will be reasonable, the pro-women groups within Synod are less adept at high profile military style campaigns. FiF and Reform have memberships in the thousands; even if you’re not a natural joiner, now might be a good time to consider it, if you feel that the church is the richer for the gifts of ordained women.
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
Church Holidays
Rather an ambiguous title, that, but I'm not referring to the festivals of the Christian year, whose memory still lingers in some of our national days off work. (Can anyone else remember the half way house of Ascension Day as a child? We were expected to be in school, but were taken en masse to the nearest church for a service, and then had sticky cakes and orange squash instead of those dinky little bottles of milk at morning breaktime).
Rather, I've been inspired by Lilly, who was wondering why we're so fearful of allowing our faithful the odd Sunday off. I guess that the reality in the UK is that a high proportion of the congregation are notthere every week; certainly, in the rural benefice where we lived before my ordination, "regulars" were those who came to a particular service, even if that one only happened once a month. However, generally when people aren't with us on a Sunday, they aren't worshipping elsewhere, either, which is such a pity. There's a whole world out there, which its sad to miss out on...I wish I'd done a tad more visiting before going full-time, but at least I know something of what's on offer.
One of our recurring problems as we try to move things on in Charlton Kings, is that so many of the congregation have literally not worshipped anywhere else for a good 40 years. We can tell them that other places do things differently, but their mindset is such that they can't fully grasp that, and so believe that "the way we've always done things" is the only valid expression of church there is. We would love to take them for little outings to experience wider horizons in worship, but suspect there would be an outcry if there were no Parish Eucharist on even one Sunday. If we did arrange for a service while we went elsewhere, no prizes for guessing which members of the congregation would not be on the coach :-(
Rather, I've been inspired by Lilly, who was wondering why we're so fearful of allowing our faithful the odd Sunday off. I guess that the reality in the UK is that a high proportion of the congregation are notthere every week; certainly, in the rural benefice where we lived before my ordination, "regulars" were those who came to a particular service, even if that one only happened once a month. However, generally when people aren't with us on a Sunday, they aren't worshipping elsewhere, either, which is such a pity. There's a whole world out there, which its sad to miss out on...I wish I'd done a tad more visiting before going full-time, but at least I know something of what's on offer.
One of our recurring problems as we try to move things on in Charlton Kings, is that so many of the congregation have literally not worshipped anywhere else for a good 40 years. We can tell them that other places do things differently, but their mindset is such that they can't fully grasp that, and so believe that "the way we've always done things" is the only valid expression of church there is. We would love to take them for little outings to experience wider horizons in worship, but suspect there would be an outcry if there were no Parish Eucharist on even one Sunday. If we did arrange for a service while we went elsewhere, no prizes for guessing which members of the congregation would not be on the coach :-(
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
One of THOSE evenings....
My wonderful vicar is away in the States for 10 days, celebrating his son's wedding...so naturally, people have begun dying all over the parish with dogged determination. It always happens, the moment one of us is away...the funeral directors have a hotline direct to the parish office and I've now funerals Thursday, Friday and Tuesday.
No problem with this, except for the fact that Procrastinators RUs (aka Revd Good in Parts) has a 3000 word reflection on the Diaconate to post to the Bishop by Friday...Not to worry, though, it's my day off tomorrow, so I should catch up then. Meanwhile, this evening featured a confirmation class in which my youngest dissolved into floods, after his heartless mother read the riot act over his incessant interruptions and general domination of the group...Poor J eventually managed to point out that we never have any time for Big Questions these days, so if he doesn't hold centre-stage in the confirmation group then he'll never get a chance. Racked with guilt, I'm booking Mummy and J slots in the diary henceforth and even for ever more.
After this, did a funeral visit....the husband was weepy but determined. The dog, a rather beautiful Sheltie, was equally determined...that no other woman would be allowed into her mum's sitting room. Why couldn't she have bitten a hole in my sadder pair of jeans??...these ones had been OK till then...but I had to pretend that nothing much had happened, as the poor man was in such a state anyway. Toothmarks on my leg, but no blood shed, so presumably I'm unlikely to be more rabid than usual in the morning!
Finally, got home just after 9.00 to discover that darling husband, who was due to depart for London at sparrow tweet tomorrow, had somehow managed to fill his petrol driven Volvo with diesel...so was having to siphon it all out and then start again...
If I included this evening in the "Reflections..." essay, I think I might think twice about priesting me. Discretion is the better part of valour, so they say.
No problem with this, except for the fact that Procrastinators RUs (aka Revd Good in Parts) has a 3000 word reflection on the Diaconate to post to the Bishop by Friday...Not to worry, though, it's my day off tomorrow, so I should catch up then. Meanwhile, this evening featured a confirmation class in which my youngest dissolved into floods, after his heartless mother read the riot act over his incessant interruptions and general domination of the group...Poor J eventually managed to point out that we never have any time for Big Questions these days, so if he doesn't hold centre-stage in the confirmation group then he'll never get a chance. Racked with guilt, I'm booking Mummy and J slots in the diary henceforth and even for ever more.
After this, did a funeral visit....the husband was weepy but determined. The dog, a rather beautiful Sheltie, was equally determined...that no other woman would be allowed into her mum's sitting room. Why couldn't she have bitten a hole in my sadder pair of jeans??...these ones had been OK till then...but I had to pretend that nothing much had happened, as the poor man was in such a state anyway. Toothmarks on my leg, but no blood shed, so presumably I'm unlikely to be more rabid than usual in the morning!
Finally, got home just after 9.00 to discover that darling husband, who was due to depart for London at sparrow tweet tomorrow, had somehow managed to fill his petrol driven Volvo with diesel...so was having to siphon it all out and then start again...
If I included this evening in the "Reflections..." essay, I think I might think twice about priesting me. Discretion is the better part of valour, so they say.
Friday, April 22, 2005
Reflecting on reflecting...
Back in a crumpled heap from the Open Group meeting. The ladies (yes, quite definitely all "ladies"...and all of a certain age,- almost indistinguishable from mainstream MU now!) were friendly and interested, as might have been predicted. Less predictable was the realisation that I really enjoyed the experience of putting the talk together, once I'd worked out what I was trying to do. Thanks so much for all your tips, suggestions and inspired stories...most of them found their way in somewhere, and I was encouraged by the discovery that more of my past life was actively involved in Kathryn the Curate than I had noticed before. It's fun looking at the course of the journey and seeing what God was up to at earlier stages, when you were too busy living it to notice!
A particular "hit" was showing my stoles, and using those as launch pad for discussion of differing ministries of priest and deacon...A particular "low", for me, was talking them through my diary for next week. Just reading about it exhausted me...but I guess there's no fear of it being one of those weeks when I wonder what I'm for. Overall, I was cheered too by how much I do actually do...regular readers will know that I tend to agonise over not giving value for stipend, but when I considered the activities of a typical week, I have to concede that I must be spending some time doing what I should be.
Apparently the parish had no idea of the burgeoning relationships with our schools here, so it was lovely to be able to share some good news, at the end of a day that included Assembly at the Infants, after-school club at one of the primaries, and a planning meeting with the Reception teacher at the other one, whose class is visiting church on Monday. Funnily enough, all this has started happening in the months since July last year. Did I ever wonder if I'd got things wrong by training initially as a Reader for Children's Ministry???
The Open Group kindly said that they'd learned things tonight. Not half as much as the Curate, I'll bet :-)
A particular "hit" was showing my stoles, and using those as launch pad for discussion of differing ministries of priest and deacon...A particular "low", for me, was talking them through my diary for next week. Just reading about it exhausted me...but I guess there's no fear of it being one of those weeks when I wonder what I'm for. Overall, I was cheered too by how much I do actually do...regular readers will know that I tend to agonise over not giving value for stipend, but when I considered the activities of a typical week, I have to concede that I must be spending some time doing what I should be.
Apparently the parish had no idea of the burgeoning relationships with our schools here, so it was lovely to be able to share some good news, at the end of a day that included Assembly at the Infants, after-school club at one of the primaries, and a planning meeting with the Reception teacher at the other one, whose class is visiting church on Monday. Funnily enough, all this has started happening in the months since July last year. Did I ever wonder if I'd got things wrong by training initially as a Reader for Children's Ministry???
The Open Group kindly said that they'd learned things tonight. Not half as much as the Curate, I'll bet :-)
Monday, April 18, 2005
Will I ever learn?
Way back in the autumn, I was foolish enough to accept an invitation from the "Open Group" (a derivative of the Mother's Union here, for those who are working and thus miss out on MU afternoon meetings) to talk to them...about being a curate! How stupid can I get???
They want 45 minutes filled this Friday, and it really might be a struggle, as I 'm confronted with the awful realisation that in the 9 months I've been here, of the events worth recounting, 50% will be things they already know all about, and the other 50% will be things they mustn't know about.
I guess all I can do is talk about the journey so far, pray for lots of (answerable) questions..maybe give them a chance to tell me 1o things they wish their clergy knew...and if all else fails, go for community singing.
Of course, if any of you have particularly entertaining anecdotes which you wouldn't mind lending me, it might improve the mix a little.
The talk's title? Yup, you've guessed it....Good in Parts.
They want 45 minutes filled this Friday, and it really might be a struggle, as I 'm confronted with the awful realisation that in the 9 months I've been here, of the events worth recounting, 50% will be things they already know all about, and the other 50% will be things they mustn't know about.
I guess all I can do is talk about the journey so far, pray for lots of (answerable) questions..maybe give them a chance to tell me 1o things they wish their clergy knew...and if all else fails, go for community singing.
Of course, if any of you have particularly entertaining anecdotes which you wouldn't mind lending me, it might improve the mix a little.
The talk's title? Yup, you've guessed it....Good in Parts.
Saturday, April 16, 2005
Unitarian Jihad strikes here....
Startling new underground group spreads lack of panic! Citizens declare
themselves "relatively unafraid" of threats of undeclared rationality.
People can still go to France, terrorist leader says.
My Unitarian Jihad Name is: The Dagger of Sweet Reason.
Get your Unitarian Jihad Name here
http://homepage.mac.com/whump/ujname.html
with thanks to Liz
for a welcome diversion from sermon-block (factor 15 at least ;-) )
themselves "relatively unafraid" of threats of undeclared rationality.
People can still go to France, terrorist leader says.
My Unitarian Jihad Name is: The Dagger of Sweet Reason.
Get your Unitarian Jihad Name here
http://homepage.mac.com/whump/ujname.html
with thanks to Liz
for a welcome diversion from sermon-block (factor 15 at least ;-) )
Wednesday, April 13, 2005
The unpopular concept of repentence.
Along with many another, I've been pondering the public reaction to the prayer of penitence during that wedding last week. I suspect that popular sensibilities, shaped by a throw away culture where things are better disposed of than mended and "love means never having to say you are sorry", simply find the whole idea of acknowledging a painful past abhorrent. Better to pretend that it has never been, rather than give it a long hard look and seek help, from whatever source, to make a fresh start…
The trouble is, of course, that this never really works.
Each of us is the sum of our past experiences, good or bad, and so hurts and disappointments lurk, waiting to trip us up at our most vulnerable moments. That's why it's so wonderful to be able to confront them, knowing that they are part of the person you are, and then allow yourself to be loved despite them. Surely it's an essential part of the process of beginning a new life with another person, to accept that they know all about you, and still choose to love you.
But, if seeing yourself and your relationships clearly is important as we move through of rites of passage, then I've been guilty in the past year of depriving people of this opportunity. Whether from kindness or cowardice, I tend not to use the penitential material included in the Common Worship Funeral service. Somehow it has almost always felt too heavy, when the mourners are at best agnostic. In my anxiety to be "pastoral" I've majored on the fact that nothing can separate us from God’s love, without allowing time to pause and consider those elements of the past that might make this specially welcome news. When we meet with mourners, there is so much that we cannot “make better”, and in simple human terms this includes damaged relationships. To be truly reassuring, words of forgiveness need to be spoken by the one voice that is now silent. With only an hour’s visit, it feels hard to probe beyond the non-negotiable fact of a life that has ended, and it can be difficult even to glean the details of that life to make the service real for those who attend. Not surprising, then, that I hesitate to suggest that there might be things to regret, but that there is still something to be done. That it’s not too late, after all.
I need to get over this, though, don’t I? I’m only involved at all because I represent a hope beyond the simply human. One of the final nudges towards ordination for me was a conversation with someone who badly needed to hear that her past was behind her, that a fresh start was possible. I hated the feeling, then, that I lacked the Church’s authority to speak the absolution she craved…I guess I need to remember her, as I knock on the door for the next funeral visit.
The trouble is, of course, that this never really works.
Each of us is the sum of our past experiences, good or bad, and so hurts and disappointments lurk, waiting to trip us up at our most vulnerable moments. That's why it's so wonderful to be able to confront them, knowing that they are part of the person you are, and then allow yourself to be loved despite them. Surely it's an essential part of the process of beginning a new life with another person, to accept that they know all about you, and still choose to love you.
But, if seeing yourself and your relationships clearly is important as we move through of rites of passage, then I've been guilty in the past year of depriving people of this opportunity. Whether from kindness or cowardice, I tend not to use the penitential material included in the Common Worship Funeral service. Somehow it has almost always felt too heavy, when the mourners are at best agnostic. In my anxiety to be "pastoral" I've majored on the fact that nothing can separate us from God’s love, without allowing time to pause and consider those elements of the past that might make this specially welcome news. When we meet with mourners, there is so much that we cannot “make better”, and in simple human terms this includes damaged relationships. To be truly reassuring, words of forgiveness need to be spoken by the one voice that is now silent. With only an hour’s visit, it feels hard to probe beyond the non-negotiable fact of a life that has ended, and it can be difficult even to glean the details of that life to make the service real for those who attend. Not surprising, then, that I hesitate to suggest that there might be things to regret, but that there is still something to be done. That it’s not too late, after all.
I need to get over this, though, don’t I? I’m only involved at all because I represent a hope beyond the simply human. One of the final nudges towards ordination for me was a conversation with someone who badly needed to hear that her past was behind her, that a fresh start was possible. I hated the feeling, then, that I lacked the Church’s authority to speak the absolution she craved…I guess I need to remember her, as I knock on the door for the next funeral visit.
Sunday, April 10, 2005
Of mission and mission statements...
I’ve been enjoying a week off work, exploring northern university cities with Luci and learning just how very paralysing a neck can be (made the fatal error of coughing in my sleep on Tuesday night, as a result of which Wednesday and Thursday vanished as if they'd never been…Just who decreed that one should always be ill during holidays?? It’s not fair!) While I've been away, there’s been a lot of discussion on mission and evangelism about the place. Maggi is rejoicing that overt "come and fill our pews" evangelism is not part of her job description, while Tom is considering ways of engaging with those who will be more deterred than encouraged by worship in their parish church and Dave has a critique of manipulative techniques that seek to scare or bribe people into the Kingdom. All in all, there's lots that I'm glad not to be doing...However,no prizes for guessing that the subject is one which concerns me hugely: after all, there's not much point in being in full- time ministry, if you don't long to share something of the Good News with a needy world. But how...?
As I think I’ve mentioned before, St Mary’s ' mission statement' is a pretty accurate expression of where the church is at the moment. It reads…
“To nourish our spiritual growth through worship and to encourage more people
to find God through reaching out into the community"
The church has a proud tradition of Anglo Catholic worship and there remains a great hope that if that works, all else will follow. Hence the tension between rash “young” curates (if only!), who want to challenge the way things are done, (or at least to ensure that everyone knows just why they are done that way) , and those who assert that beautiful worship has a stand-alone value, which will inevitably attract people to the God whom it celebrates. Visiting another parish of similar churchmanship, but less demanding traditions last weekend, I was refreshed by the lack of anxiety, which was only partially the result of my own "off duty" status. I think we might be in danger of letting the hows of worship ovewhelm the whys, with disasterous effect.
Of course, many do find nourishment and inspiration Sunday by Sunday, which enables them to live as Kingdom people all through the week, but sometimes the connection between Sunday worship and Monday world feels scarily tenuous. Too often, too, the church seems to exert a kind of centrifugal force, sucking in the energies of those in its orbit, rather than sending them forth, inspired to live and work to God's praise and glory. Perhaps in our emphasis on Eucharist thanksgiving rather than Mass (Ite, Missa est) we are unconsciously reinforcing this inward pull...but as a Eucharistic community, we are called to bring the whole of our lives to the altar.
Worship and mission are inextricably connected, and neither can be a substitute for the other. Achieving a balance should, by God's grace, enable us to be good news for our communities...but how?
As I think I’ve mentioned before, St Mary’s ' mission statement' is a pretty accurate expression of where the church is at the moment. It reads…
“To nourish our spiritual growth through worship and to encourage more people
to find God through reaching out into the community"
The church has a proud tradition of Anglo Catholic worship and there remains a great hope that if that works, all else will follow. Hence the tension between rash “young” curates (if only!), who want to challenge the way things are done, (or at least to ensure that everyone knows just why they are done that way) , and those who assert that beautiful worship has a stand-alone value, which will inevitably attract people to the God whom it celebrates. Visiting another parish of similar churchmanship, but less demanding traditions last weekend, I was refreshed by the lack of anxiety, which was only partially the result of my own "off duty" status. I think we might be in danger of letting the hows of worship ovewhelm the whys, with disasterous effect.
Of course, many do find nourishment and inspiration Sunday by Sunday, which enables them to live as Kingdom people all through the week, but sometimes the connection between Sunday worship and Monday world feels scarily tenuous. Too often, too, the church seems to exert a kind of centrifugal force, sucking in the energies of those in its orbit, rather than sending them forth, inspired to live and work to God's praise and glory. Perhaps in our emphasis on Eucharist thanksgiving rather than Mass (Ite, Missa est) we are unconsciously reinforcing this inward pull...but as a Eucharistic community, we are called to bring the whole of our lives to the altar.
Worship and mission are inextricably connected, and neither can be a substitute for the other. Achieving a balance should, by God's grace, enable us to be good news for our communities...but how?
Thursday, April 07, 2005
Tactical editing
Today, one of my good friends in the parish phoned to say that she had found my blog...apparently via the wonderful google link Kathryn Fleming, Superstar :-).
This ain't a problem in itself....there's very little about my life and times here I'm not happy to share with her, and indeed overall I'd tried quite hard not to post anything that I couldn't/wouldn't decently say to the people concerned. However, she wisely pointed out that some of those concerned are a tad too identifiable and might not relish having our differences of outlook revealed to a potentially larger audience....So, on that basis, I've pulled one or two recent posts, and would be very grateful for early warning if either of my readers thinks I might be sailing that bit too close to the wind.
Therapeutic blogging is all very well, but she's right that this really isn't the place for sustained rants. So...stand by your in-boxes, next time I have a parochial crisis.I'll have to whinge by (relative) stealth....and please do keep up the prayers for all of us. Like most Anglican parishes, we live in interesting times!
This ain't a problem in itself....there's very little about my life and times here I'm not happy to share with her, and indeed overall I'd tried quite hard not to post anything that I couldn't/wouldn't decently say to the people concerned. However, she wisely pointed out that some of those concerned are a tad too identifiable and might not relish having our differences of outlook revealed to a potentially larger audience....So, on that basis, I've pulled one or two recent posts, and would be very grateful for early warning if either of my readers thinks I might be sailing that bit too close to the wind.
Therapeutic blogging is all very well, but she's right that this really isn't the place for sustained rants. So...stand by your in-boxes, next time I have a parochial crisis.I'll have to whinge by (relative) stealth....and please do keep up the prayers for all of us. Like most Anglican parishes, we live in interesting times!
Sunday, April 03, 2005
Golden Lads and Girls...
Drove to Somerset on Friday to collect the lovely Luci from Kilve Court, where she had been revelling in a 3 day writing course courtesy of wonderful Beth Webb
Beth adopted Luci at Greenbelt a couple of years ago, and has been encouraging her writing and generally inspiring her ever since,- not least by inviting her on the “Breaking the Moulds” course at Kilve last year. This had been a huge success for L and I have to admit that I was worried that this year might fail to match previous experience, but when I arrived on Friday it was obvious that happiness was shining from every pore. She has basked in the company of kindred spirits, told tales, shared enchantments….
Uncharacteristically, I got there in time to hear the students present a piece of writing each, and there was some remarkable work to hear. There were also some huge and colourful personalities about the place, and I couldn’t help musing as to where they would be in 10 years time. In an ideal world, they would all be free to be their glorious, creative selves morning noon and night…but reality being what it is, the chances are that a good few will have to become accountants or even tax inspectors. I pray that they all find ways to keep that glow, for growing up surely need not mean damping down.
Beth adopted Luci at Greenbelt a couple of years ago, and has been encouraging her writing and generally inspiring her ever since,- not least by inviting her on the “Breaking the Moulds” course at Kilve last year. This had been a huge success for L and I have to admit that I was worried that this year might fail to match previous experience, but when I arrived on Friday it was obvious that happiness was shining from every pore. She has basked in the company of kindred spirits, told tales, shared enchantments….
Uncharacteristically, I got there in time to hear the students present a piece of writing each, and there was some remarkable work to hear. There were also some huge and colourful personalities about the place, and I couldn’t help musing as to where they would be in 10 years time. In an ideal world, they would all be free to be their glorious, creative selves morning noon and night…but reality being what it is, the chances are that a good few will have to become accountants or even tax inspectors. I pray that they all find ways to keep that glow, for growing up surely need not mean damping down.
Saturday, April 02, 2005
Small smiley announcement
Today,for the first time in 20 years,I am the slightly proud owner of a cello. It was a rescue operation. Nobody who takes their music at all seriously would give houseroom to a damaged chinese school cello...but it's perfect for me, as it can sit in a corner for months on end, if that's how life works out, and will still be having a happier time than might otherwise have been its lot.
Having played for about half an hour, I've remembered just how appalling I was, and why I gave up in the first place, but nonetheless, it does feel good to have a cello about the place again, and I've told our rather posh violin and viola to be kind to it, or there will be trouble.
Apologies in advance to any neighbours reading this ;-)
Having played for about half an hour, I've remembered just how appalling I was, and why I gave up in the first place, but nonetheless, it does feel good to have a cello about the place again, and I've told our rather posh violin and viola to be kind to it, or there will be trouble.
Apologies in advance to any neighbours reading this ;-)
Friday, April 01, 2005
Thank you, Jane and Arthur
Reading through those Commandments again, I remember with gratitude Jane and Arthur.
You won't know them.
He had retired from an army career as a Lt.Colonel (something I always found hard to reconcile with his essentially pacific, gentle heart), she was a human dynamo, one of those endlessly energetic ladies who for generations formed the backbone of the rural church, never sitting still, always baking a cake or providing a taxi service for someone who needed to get to an medical appointment. He was immaculate in tweeds, and used to delight Lucinda by touching his cap to her if he met her in the village.
Jane was surely the one for whom twin-set and pearls were invented.
Both of them adopted my children on our chaotic arrival in Great Rissington 15 years ago.
Can I have been the only woman in the history of that medieval church ever to breastfeed there? (couldn't get out...trapped by the crowds at our first ever appearance in the village, the Carol Service only days after our arrival). I'm sure, with hindsight, they were both appalled at my indecorum, but they never let it show...simply made sure they admired the infant Giles at the end of the service.
The relationship progressed from greetings exchanged as hymn books were handed out, to an invitation to the 4 year old L. to share in the handing out, till one Sunday came the inevitable
"I'm not going to sit with you in Church this week, Mummy. I want to be with Granny Beddoe"
As my children grew, they all came to love Jane and Arthur,- he who struggled to get a word in edgeways, but had such a lovely dry wit. He would frequently find time to discuss life's big questions with Giles,- one nearly 10, the other over 80 but both respecting the other deeply.
At this stage, Arthur was still Church Warden, and there was much theology exchanged as they polished brass candlesticks together. It was so good to see (especially as the early death of my own parents means that my 3 were always short of potential relationships with the older generation).
More than anyone else, they made my children feel that the people at church were truly their family. They lived out each of those Commandments and by nurturing our children, nurtured us too, enabling me to worship Sunday by Sunday, rather than living with the endless child-control exercises that are often the lot of parents in a tiny church where yours are the only children.
Without them, I would never have been quiet enough to hear God say , as the visiting preacher, the first female Canon of Gloucester Cathedral, began her talk
"You could do that for me..."
Arthur died not long before we left the village. At his funeral, the church was packed with friends and family. My children extricated themselves from mock exams and polished their shoes without being asked. Arthur's shoes shone so that you could see to brush your hair.
Their son gave an address, presenting his father's life as an illustration of the truth
"Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God"
Seeing Him, they enabled others to see him too.
Thank you both.
You won't know them.
He had retired from an army career as a Lt.Colonel (something I always found hard to reconcile with his essentially pacific, gentle heart), she was a human dynamo, one of those endlessly energetic ladies who for generations formed the backbone of the rural church, never sitting still, always baking a cake or providing a taxi service for someone who needed to get to an medical appointment. He was immaculate in tweeds, and used to delight Lucinda by touching his cap to her if he met her in the village.
Jane was surely the one for whom twin-set and pearls were invented.
Both of them adopted my children on our chaotic arrival in Great Rissington 15 years ago.
Can I have been the only woman in the history of that medieval church ever to breastfeed there? (couldn't get out...trapped by the crowds at our first ever appearance in the village, the Carol Service only days after our arrival). I'm sure, with hindsight, they were both appalled at my indecorum, but they never let it show...simply made sure they admired the infant Giles at the end of the service.
The relationship progressed from greetings exchanged as hymn books were handed out, to an invitation to the 4 year old L. to share in the handing out, till one Sunday came the inevitable
"I'm not going to sit with you in Church this week, Mummy. I want to be with Granny Beddoe"
As my children grew, they all came to love Jane and Arthur,- he who struggled to get a word in edgeways, but had such a lovely dry wit. He would frequently find time to discuss life's big questions with Giles,- one nearly 10, the other over 80 but both respecting the other deeply.
At this stage, Arthur was still Church Warden, and there was much theology exchanged as they polished brass candlesticks together. It was so good to see (especially as the early death of my own parents means that my 3 were always short of potential relationships with the older generation).
More than anyone else, they made my children feel that the people at church were truly their family. They lived out each of those Commandments and by nurturing our children, nurtured us too, enabling me to worship Sunday by Sunday, rather than living with the endless child-control exercises that are often the lot of parents in a tiny church where yours are the only children.
Without them, I would never have been quiet enough to hear God say , as the visiting preacher, the first female Canon of Gloucester Cathedral, began her talk
"You could do that for me..."
Arthur died not long before we left the village. At his funeral, the church was packed with friends and family. My children extricated themselves from mock exams and polished their shoes without being asked. Arthur's shoes shone so that you could see to brush your hair.
Their son gave an address, presenting his father's life as an illustration of the truth
"Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God"
Seeing Him, they enabled others to see him too.
Thank you both.
Thursday, March 31, 2005
Do I really want to go to the stake for these???
One of those ghastly editorial lapses has just occurred, around an article I wrote for the parish mag. I wanted to provoke discussion about the prevalent attitude to children of some in our congregation (who would love to think they had alot of children about the place, as long as "the place" is comfortably distant from where "real" worship is carried out...Junior Church over the road in the parish centre is pretty ideal ;-)).
I tend to be a fairly tactful soul, and I'm all too aware that there are rather alot of major battles ahead if this church is to survive, let alone move and grow, so I had prefaced the commandments below with a few lines making it very clear that these were not necessarily my own essential views, and inviting discussion. The only trouble is that the magazine editors had seen fit to omit this softening-up intro. I guess I would be happy to defend most of the commandments, which is just as well as it happens, since what actually appeared is as follows......
Ten Commandments for Churchgoing Adults.
1) You shall love your children. Your children are part of the Church of
to-day : they are not to be kept in cold storage for the Church of tomorrow. They have not been sent by the devil to distract you, but by God to enrich you.
2) You shall always remember that the friendship of children is as important for your own spiritual development as it is for the children’s well-being.
3) You shall encourage your children to worship with your congregation and value their presence in these gatherings. You shall be open to the possibility that God can speak to you through their smiles, their questions, their wriggling, and their responses.
4) You shall extend to your children a warm, personal and appropriate welcome when they come to worship.
5) You shall allow children to participate in the leadership of worship as frequently as practicable. However, you shall not make an undue fuss over their participation, nor exalt their contribution over that of other age-groups.
6) You shall not allow your children regularly to run riot in worship. However you shall not leave the responsibility of quietening the children to their parent(s) alone. All members of the congregation will, by word deed and spirit, encourage in the children a calm and reverent frame of mind and quiet and appropriate movements.
7) You will make much of the festivals of the Christian year and other special occasions, and will enable your children to contribute to them.
8) You shall not expect your children to be more enthusiastic about the worship in your church than you are yourself. Nor shall you deceive your children by pretending that you listen to every word! Rather, you shall encourage the children to tune in as much as they can and refrain from making them feel guilty when for a while they tune out. They are doing what we all do.
9) You shall not place undue emphasis on peer groupings and the nuclear family within the life of your congregation. Rather, you shall teach your children to think of their congregation as the extended family of Jesus. You shall encourage friendships between different age-groups.
10) You shall countenance neither organisation nor attitude which makes it difficult for children to worship regularly with their congregation.
Kathryn Fleming
Methinks it may be time to man the barricades. In the meantime, what do bloggers think about the commandments (aside from the fact that I would never ever ever presume to be so dictatorial as the magazine suggests!)? It's supposed to be a discussion, see?!
I tend to be a fairly tactful soul, and I'm all too aware that there are rather alot of major battles ahead if this church is to survive, let alone move and grow, so I had prefaced the commandments below with a few lines making it very clear that these were not necessarily my own essential views, and inviting discussion. The only trouble is that the magazine editors had seen fit to omit this softening-up intro. I guess I would be happy to defend most of the commandments, which is just as well as it happens, since what actually appeared is as follows......
Ten Commandments for Churchgoing Adults.
1) You shall love your children. Your children are part of the Church of
to-day : they are not to be kept in cold storage for the Church of tomorrow. They have not been sent by the devil to distract you, but by God to enrich you.
2) You shall always remember that the friendship of children is as important for your own spiritual development as it is for the children’s well-being.
3) You shall encourage your children to worship with your congregation and value their presence in these gatherings. You shall be open to the possibility that God can speak to you through their smiles, their questions, their wriggling, and their responses.
4) You shall extend to your children a warm, personal and appropriate welcome when they come to worship.
5) You shall allow children to participate in the leadership of worship as frequently as practicable. However, you shall not make an undue fuss over their participation, nor exalt their contribution over that of other age-groups.
6) You shall not allow your children regularly to run riot in worship. However you shall not leave the responsibility of quietening the children to their parent(s) alone. All members of the congregation will, by word deed and spirit, encourage in the children a calm and reverent frame of mind and quiet and appropriate movements.
7) You will make much of the festivals of the Christian year and other special occasions, and will enable your children to contribute to them.
8) You shall not expect your children to be more enthusiastic about the worship in your church than you are yourself. Nor shall you deceive your children by pretending that you listen to every word! Rather, you shall encourage the children to tune in as much as they can and refrain from making them feel guilty when for a while they tune out. They are doing what we all do.
9) You shall not place undue emphasis on peer groupings and the nuclear family within the life of your congregation. Rather, you shall teach your children to think of their congregation as the extended family of Jesus. You shall encourage friendships between different age-groups.
10) You shall countenance neither organisation nor attitude which makes it difficult for children to worship regularly with their congregation.
Kathryn Fleming
Methinks it may be time to man the barricades. In the meantime, what do bloggers think about the commandments (aside from the fact that I would never ever ever presume to be so dictatorial as the magazine suggests!)? It's supposed to be a discussion, see?!
Monday, March 28, 2005
Alleluia
Apologies for the earlier downbeat entry…
Readers may be relieved to hear that Christ IS risen, even in Charlton Kings:-)
All the Easter Sunday services were excellent. Even the 8.00 saw over 50 communicants, who responded surprisingly well to the unexpected “word” from the vicar, and the novelty of being given an Easter egg as they departed. 10.00 was St M’s at its best…pomp and circumstance, yes, but with a packed church filled with joyful singing, it felt OK to be processing about the place in a cope once more. The choir were on top form: Michael and I exchanged glances as we were “un-coped” in the vestry during the Introit (Wood This Joyful Eastertide) and agreed that the words now felt true. What a blessing!
For the first time since I’ve been there, there were so many communicants that M had to re-consecrate…they kept coming, wave on wave, to both altars and administering the Sacrament was pure joy.
The informal Family Service afterwards was just a ball…even though they had had to wait outside for about 10 mins, as there were so many at the 10.00 they took ages to clear…Everyone was very good humoured, and a most un St Mary's atmosphere of relaxed chaos predominated. Another good sized gathering (about 60 all told) joined in with the actions in a responsive Gospel reading…stuck paper flowers on to the cross we’d used in the prayer trail and during Holy Week…showing God at work bringing new life where most needed. Then the children illustrated this beautifully for the benefit of a battered curate. We had given out the percussion instruments promising that we would need to make a lot of noise later on, and in the final hymn they did just that AND danced too.
Risen indeed!
Preached at Evensong, which went well too…and the choir spoiled us with Wesley Blessed be the God and Father
A day of huge contrasts in worship, but characterised by a deep and genuine joy. Perhaps all really shall be well. Even in Charlton Kings!
Readers may be relieved to hear that Christ IS risen, even in Charlton Kings:-)
All the Easter Sunday services were excellent. Even the 8.00 saw over 50 communicants, who responded surprisingly well to the unexpected “word” from the vicar, and the novelty of being given an Easter egg as they departed. 10.00 was St M’s at its best…pomp and circumstance, yes, but with a packed church filled with joyful singing, it felt OK to be processing about the place in a cope once more. The choir were on top form: Michael and I exchanged glances as we were “un-coped” in the vestry during the Introit (Wood This Joyful Eastertide) and agreed that the words now felt true. What a blessing!
For the first time since I’ve been there, there were so many communicants that M had to re-consecrate…they kept coming, wave on wave, to both altars and administering the Sacrament was pure joy.
The informal Family Service afterwards was just a ball…even though they had had to wait outside for about 10 mins, as there were so many at the 10.00 they took ages to clear…Everyone was very good humoured, and a most un St Mary's atmosphere of relaxed chaos predominated. Another good sized gathering (about 60 all told) joined in with the actions in a responsive Gospel reading…stuck paper flowers on to the cross we’d used in the prayer trail and during Holy Week…showing God at work bringing new life where most needed. Then the children illustrated this beautifully for the benefit of a battered curate. We had given out the percussion instruments promising that we would need to make a lot of noise later on, and in the final hymn they did just that AND danced too.
Risen indeed!
Preached at Evensong, which went well too…and the choir spoiled us with Wesley Blessed be the God and Father
A day of huge contrasts in worship, but characterised by a deep and genuine joy. Perhaps all really shall be well. Even in Charlton Kings!
Friday, March 25, 2005
Wiped out but worth it!
The last 24 hours have featured more church than at almost any period in my life before, I think...Yesterday morning began as always with Morning Prayer...both vicar and curate feeling a bit delicate after the recent alarms and excursions , so this was precious and healing. Then on to the Cathedral for my first experience of the Chrism service, renewing vows that I made only 9 months ago in that very place. It felt strange but rather wonderful to be there with the same group and to see the 3 jugs of oil brought in, knowing that the third caraffe, for the oil of chrism, would be used at our priesting. Certainly made my heart lurch a bit...
Hopeful Amphibian was part of the phalanx of priests renewing their vows, and has a rather different perspective on it, but though I do see his point, it was rather lovely to feel a part of such a positive expression of church, after a bruising week. Catching up with friends over lunch in the sunny cloister wasn't 'alf bad, either....then home for my own programme of furniture removal (those dreaded wavy chairs) and the dotting of i's for the evening's sermon (thanks to Dylan for launching me...) Left home at 5.00 pm....and returned at 4.00pm today...having had wonderful Maundy Service, with first ever foot washing here. Another first was for the final psalm, during which the altars are stripped, to be sung....there had been murmurs from the old guard again, but the senstive singing of the choir in the gathering darkness will probably be my strongest memory of the evening.
I then spent the night in the Parish Centre with the Youth Group, who plug any gaps in the all- night Watch and were also doing a sponsored Psalmathon to Send a Goat to Africa. They were a joy to be with...I did get some sleep around 4.00, but whenever anyone else came in to crash, there was this gentle murmur of psalmody from the stairs (the only spare space, once hall was taken up with silent football tournament, while other rooms were stuffed with kids doing creative things for my Easter service) and a very loud cheer at 4.50 when ps 150 was completed by all who were still awake. Leading prayers with them for the end of the Watch was awe-inspiring...when each of them had spent time on duty in the chapel, they had left a votive light behind them, and walking into that space, made bright by their presence twice over was in itself a good reason for having stayed up all night. Pretty good to spend some time in the silence with God too.
Busy busy Good Friday. Eucharist 9.15 from the reserved Sacrament (and I only got one thing wrong in clearing the chapel and sorted it out without panic...which feels like a real achievement, under the eagle eye of our Sacristan) Ecumenical Walk of Witness 10.30...for which my family were deputed to provide music when the Community Players
presented the Seven Last Words in the shopping precinct. This was a really positive experience, perhaps to counter the effects of the Palm Sunday procession, and it was good that my kids were both willing and able to be involved, as I think they've rather missed being the essential parts of the church community that they were in Great Rissington. G played his flute for some Taize chants, which was a real treat...he's not taken it out onto the streets since we moved here (used to play lots for village carol singing etc).
The Walk wound its way through much of Charlton Kings, with a good sized crowd which was genuinely representative of all 5 churches.I loved the way larger children gave the smaller ones piggy backs, just for fun, and the skill of one Guide Dog and one Hearing Dog who took their owners safely from start to finish. We felt like a community...young, old, healthy, broken, happy, sad...but TOGETHER..and finally we were in real country...walking behind the cross up a farm track to plant it in a field with a wonderful view over the whole of Cheltenham. We stood there to sing "When I survey" and it was a definite "YES" moment.
I left L talking to the Youth Worker from the Baptist Church about Gap Years in Africa and maybe, just maybe, about the possibility of considering (maybe) Youth Work after uni...and cycled at top speed back to church for the 3 hours led by Alan Luff, who proved to be as good a preacher as he is musician.
Finally, I sat in the church and listened as a muffled bell rang 33 times, then picked up my prayer stool and headed home.
Hard to believe, after so much packed into just over 24 hours, that we are only beginning the Triduum. If I survive, I'll report more later...if not, well, I'm hugely happy with my lot.
Hopeful Amphibian was part of the phalanx of priests renewing their vows, and has a rather different perspective on it, but though I do see his point, it was rather lovely to feel a part of such a positive expression of church, after a bruising week. Catching up with friends over lunch in the sunny cloister wasn't 'alf bad, either....then home for my own programme of furniture removal (those dreaded wavy chairs) and the dotting of i's for the evening's sermon (thanks to Dylan for launching me...) Left home at 5.00 pm....and returned at 4.00pm today...having had wonderful Maundy Service, with first ever foot washing here. Another first was for the final psalm, during which the altars are stripped, to be sung....there had been murmurs from the old guard again, but the senstive singing of the choir in the gathering darkness will probably be my strongest memory of the evening.
I then spent the night in the Parish Centre with the Youth Group, who plug any gaps in the all- night Watch and were also doing a sponsored Psalmathon to Send a Goat to Africa. They were a joy to be with...I did get some sleep around 4.00, but whenever anyone else came in to crash, there was this gentle murmur of psalmody from the stairs (the only spare space, once hall was taken up with silent football tournament, while other rooms were stuffed with kids doing creative things for my Easter service) and a very loud cheer at 4.50 when ps 150 was completed by all who were still awake. Leading prayers with them for the end of the Watch was awe-inspiring...when each of them had spent time on duty in the chapel, they had left a votive light behind them, and walking into that space, made bright by their presence twice over was in itself a good reason for having stayed up all night. Pretty good to spend some time in the silence with God too.
Busy busy Good Friday. Eucharist 9.15 from the reserved Sacrament (and I only got one thing wrong in clearing the chapel and sorted it out without panic...which feels like a real achievement, under the eagle eye of our Sacristan) Ecumenical Walk of Witness 10.30...for which my family were deputed to provide music when the Community Players
presented the Seven Last Words in the shopping precinct. This was a really positive experience, perhaps to counter the effects of the Palm Sunday procession, and it was good that my kids were both willing and able to be involved, as I think they've rather missed being the essential parts of the church community that they were in Great Rissington. G played his flute for some Taize chants, which was a real treat...he's not taken it out onto the streets since we moved here (used to play lots for village carol singing etc).
The Walk wound its way through much of Charlton Kings, with a good sized crowd which was genuinely representative of all 5 churches.I loved the way larger children gave the smaller ones piggy backs, just for fun, and the skill of one Guide Dog and one Hearing Dog who took their owners safely from start to finish. We felt like a community...young, old, healthy, broken, happy, sad...but TOGETHER..and finally we were in real country...walking behind the cross up a farm track to plant it in a field with a wonderful view over the whole of Cheltenham. We stood there to sing "When I survey" and it was a definite "YES" moment.
I left L talking to the Youth Worker from the Baptist Church about Gap Years in Africa and maybe, just maybe, about the possibility of considering (maybe) Youth Work after uni...and cycled at top speed back to church for the 3 hours led by Alan Luff, who proved to be as good a preacher as he is musician.
Finally, I sat in the church and listened as a muffled bell rang 33 times, then picked up my prayer stool and headed home.
Hard to believe, after so much packed into just over 24 hours, that we are only beginning the Triduum. If I survive, I'll report more later...if not, well, I'm hugely happy with my lot.
Wednesday, March 23, 2005
Feeling silly
L and I found this site yesterday and are utterly beguiled by the sheer impracticality of hand painted wellingtons. Do go and look...they are very beautiful, and totally mad. I think I want some...no, I'm sure of it!
Donkeys, human and otherwise
On a displacement trawl through blogs near and far, I found that Lutheran Chik had enjoyed a sermon on our affinity with the donkey on the first Palm Sunday…there just because “The Lord has need of him”.
This brought to mind a story I’d loved when reading it to my children about 10 years ago, The Donkey’s Tale by Margaret Gray. A quick hunt on Google produced the joyous discovery that, though the book itself is out of print, the whole thing, complete with pictures, can be found here.
I was so happy to find it. Now I'm wondering if you have to be old friends with it not to see it as twee or cheesy...no doubt someone will tell me! For me, though, in a week when it’s too easy for clergy to feel themselves essential to the smooth running of Easter, it was definitely helpful reading. See what you think? and then remember to laugh at yourself :-)
This brought to mind a story I’d loved when reading it to my children about 10 years ago, The Donkey’s Tale by Margaret Gray. A quick hunt on Google produced the joyous discovery that, though the book itself is out of print, the whole thing, complete with pictures, can be found here.
I was so happy to find it. Now I'm wondering if you have to be old friends with it not to see it as twee or cheesy...no doubt someone will tell me! For me, though, in a week when it’s too easy for clergy to feel themselves essential to the smooth running of Easter, it was definitely helpful reading. See what you think? and then remember to laugh at yourself :-)
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
I think I need a whinge....
Having taken maggi's advice and visited Brodie's blog I was interested by his thoughts on "what a blog's for" which includes a reference to blogs as places of vulnerability.
So.......OK...this is the curate being vulnerable.
I am finding it next to impossible to focus on the unfolding drama of Holy Week, because I have an unfolding domestic drama of my very own, involving my daughter, UCAS and assorted universities.
L applied to read English at Cambridge, and 5 other universities; her teachers had (possibly generously, but who's to say at this point?) predicted A grades all round, and earlier exam results suggested this was a real possibility. Her personal statement read well...She is someone with wide-ranging interests, who pursues them with passion, and has gathered assorted evidence of this along the way through her teens. She writes well, so it was an interesting read, I truly believe. She is not, though, the world's most self-confident young woman, so I was not unduly surprised that she was not offered a Cambridge place...there is no way she will have given of her best at interview. However, what has really removed the ground from beneath our feet is the fact that 3 other universities also rejected her...leaving her with offers from Aberystwyth and Lampeter. The situation is now further compounded by the Head of English announcing that neither of the courses at these universities is challenging enough for her & that he only allowed her to put them down at all because it simply didn't occurr to him that she might need to take up offers from them.
So, here we are, with only a couple of weeks in which to make the decision, suddenly cast back into the mires of uncertainty. Does she hope for great things through Clearing (not perhaps the wisest move in a year when there are so many too many students for the places available:Bristol had c3000 applicants for 91 places on its English course)?
Do we swallow hard, try to ignore the horrors of "variable top-ups" and opt for a Gap Year (as she had originally planned, before said top-ups were invented) though it is rather late to arrange one, and she will certainly not be able to take up the teaching post in Uganda she had originally arranged?
Do we ignore the advice of the Head of English and say "thank you kindly" to Aberystwyth, whose students speak fondly of it....?
I simply don't know what to do for the best...
Have asked God for sky-writing, but thus far it seems conspicuous by its absence, and while we deliberate, fret and worry, L is busy seeing herself as "the one nobody wants" and her fragile self-esteem is more bruised and battered than ever.
I'm probably not helping her by posting thus, but vulnerability and community both seem to suggest that I should. Prayers very welcome.
So.......OK...this is the curate being vulnerable.
I am finding it next to impossible to focus on the unfolding drama of Holy Week, because I have an unfolding domestic drama of my very own, involving my daughter, UCAS and assorted universities.
L applied to read English at Cambridge, and 5 other universities; her teachers had (possibly generously, but who's to say at this point?) predicted A grades all round, and earlier exam results suggested this was a real possibility. Her personal statement read well...She is someone with wide-ranging interests, who pursues them with passion, and has gathered assorted evidence of this along the way through her teens. She writes well, so it was an interesting read, I truly believe. She is not, though, the world's most self-confident young woman, so I was not unduly surprised that she was not offered a Cambridge place...there is no way she will have given of her best at interview. However, what has really removed the ground from beneath our feet is the fact that 3 other universities also rejected her...leaving her with offers from Aberystwyth and Lampeter. The situation is now further compounded by the Head of English announcing that neither of the courses at these universities is challenging enough for her & that he only allowed her to put them down at all because it simply didn't occurr to him that she might need to take up offers from them.
So, here we are, with only a couple of weeks in which to make the decision, suddenly cast back into the mires of uncertainty. Does she hope for great things through Clearing (not perhaps the wisest move in a year when there are so many too many students for the places available:Bristol had c3000 applicants for 91 places on its English course)?
Do we swallow hard, try to ignore the horrors of "variable top-ups" and opt for a Gap Year (as she had originally planned, before said top-ups were invented) though it is rather late to arrange one, and she will certainly not be able to take up the teaching post in Uganda she had originally arranged?
Do we ignore the advice of the Head of English and say "thank you kindly" to Aberystwyth, whose students speak fondly of it....?
I simply don't know what to do for the best...
Have asked God for sky-writing, but thus far it seems conspicuous by its absence, and while we deliberate, fret and worry, L is busy seeing herself as "the one nobody wants" and her fragile self-esteem is more bruised and battered than ever.
I'm probably not helping her by posting thus, but vulnerability and community both seem to suggest that I should. Prayers very welcome.
Monday, March 21, 2005
Hands...a reflection for Holy Week.
The vicar asked me to find something to read at the end of our service of Readings and Music for Passiontide, and this is what I chose. I don't know where it came from...Someone photocopied it for me a long time ago, and I've hung onto it.
Last night, in a silent church, it was very very real.
Do I see your hands
Master Carpenter of Nazareth
Play upon that wood,
Feel the grain,
Test the joints,
Admiring finish and design?
Here are hands
Strong from the bench,
From saw and plane,
Chisel, mallet;
Artists in wood.
These hands held a child in blessing
Gave back to grieving parents
A daughter from the dead;
Caressed unseeing eyes in gentle love
Till Bartimaeus saw again.
These hands touched lepers;
Traced figures in the sand
While the adulterer’s accusers
Slunk sullenly from sight;
Broke five small loaves
And made a feast
Five thousand places set!
________
These hands,
Christ’s hands,
His hands:
Break bread,
Pour wine;
Reach up in anguished prayer
To take the Cup that is his Father’s will.
And in the flickering light
Do these hands hold Judas
In a final grasp of love
Before the fatal kiss?
Look at these hands, still quick to heal –
Red raw, rough wrapped by rope.
“Security” they say.
The Prince of Peace, secure!
________
Secure
upon a cross.
No playing now upon this wood
No feeling of the grain
In silent admiration –
But searing agony.
This is the work you came to do
Lord Christ
Through wood and nails.
Hands held wide in love.
Jesus, my hands need washing.
________
Praying hands?
Too often idle.
Generous hands?
Too often grasping.
Useful hands?
Busy with the world’s work, not yours.
Take my hands
Into the hands still scarred
By nails
I drove
At Calvary,
And teach them
Like yours
To love.
Last night, in a silent church, it was very very real.
Do I see your hands
Master Carpenter of Nazareth
Play upon that wood,
Feel the grain,
Test the joints,
Admiring finish and design?
Here are hands
Strong from the bench,
From saw and plane,
Chisel, mallet;
Artists in wood.
These hands held a child in blessing
Gave back to grieving parents
A daughter from the dead;
Caressed unseeing eyes in gentle love
Till Bartimaeus saw again.
These hands touched lepers;
Traced figures in the sand
While the adulterer’s accusers
Slunk sullenly from sight;
Broke five small loaves
And made a feast
Five thousand places set!
________
These hands,
Christ’s hands,
His hands:
Break bread,
Pour wine;
Reach up in anguished prayer
To take the Cup that is his Father’s will.
And in the flickering light
Do these hands hold Judas
In a final grasp of love
Before the fatal kiss?
Look at these hands, still quick to heal –
Red raw, rough wrapped by rope.
“Security” they say.
The Prince of Peace, secure!
________
Secure
upon a cross.
No playing now upon this wood
No feeling of the grain
In silent admiration –
But searing agony.
This is the work you came to do
Lord Christ
Through wood and nails.
Hands held wide in love.
Jesus, my hands need washing.
________
Praying hands?
Too often idle.
Generous hands?
Too often grasping.
Useful hands?
Busy with the world’s work, not yours.
Take my hands
Into the hands still scarred
By nails
I drove
At Calvary,
And teach them
Like yours
To love.
Saturday, March 19, 2005
A Desert Planet
I'm certain that everyone who visits will also be regulars at jonny's blog, but just in case you weren't going there today, please do. He's posted a wonderful meditation by Sue Wallace of Visions here
which struck so many chords with me, I'm resonating away like a harpsichord on holiday. I'd not thought of our desperate rearrangement of the deckchairs on the Titanic as a "stones into bread" quick- fix, but it does make disturbing sense.. Go read...
which struck so many chords with me, I'm resonating away like a harpsichord on holiday. I'd not thought of our desperate rearrangement of the deckchairs on the Titanic as a "stones into bread" quick- fix, but it does make disturbing sense.. Go read...
Charlton Kings goes alternative???
Just back from church, where I sadly demolished “Into the Wilderness”. Actually, I wasn’t so much sad as deeply, deeply thankful at what happened in the course of 5 days.
I’d been so worried that nobody would actually come, but when I rescued the pebbles from the font there were 28 there, which feels pretty stunning for a first attempt on anything outside the standard liturgical box here.
There have been a lot of things to treasure this week. On Wednesday, when I went in to lock up just before the Annual Parish Meeting, I found a group of 4 teenage girls, none of whom were known to the church, quietly working their way round the stations. The thought of their presence kept me going through the inevitably fraught proceedings that followed in the parish hall.
Yesterday, I came in to say the Office and found the (very traditional) Sacristan sharing some bread in the “Holy Space” with the (even more traditional) Verger…
This morning, a friend dropped in to tell me that her husband, who is known for his preference for the safely conservative, had told her that she ought to go along because “It makes it look like a church where things happen”. Rather startlingly, there was approval in his voice at the time!
Sometimes, it’s hard to believe that this IS a church where things happen…but maybe God's working more beneath the surface than we tend to recognise. Thank you, those who prayed for the week.
I’d been so worried that nobody would actually come, but when I rescued the pebbles from the font there were 28 there, which feels pretty stunning for a first attempt on anything outside the standard liturgical box here.
There have been a lot of things to treasure this week. On Wednesday, when I went in to lock up just before the Annual Parish Meeting, I found a group of 4 teenage girls, none of whom were known to the church, quietly working their way round the stations. The thought of their presence kept me going through the inevitably fraught proceedings that followed in the parish hall.
Yesterday, I came in to say the Office and found the (very traditional) Sacristan sharing some bread in the “Holy Space” with the (even more traditional) Verger…
This morning, a friend dropped in to tell me that her husband, who is known for his preference for the safely conservative, had told her that she ought to go along because “It makes it look like a church where things happen”. Rather startlingly, there was approval in his voice at the time!
Sometimes, it’s hard to believe that this IS a church where things happen…but maybe God's working more beneath the surface than we tend to recognise. Thank you, those who prayed for the week.
Superstar revisited
It's that time of year, I guess. Maggi had also attended a production of Jesus Christ Superstar (as the guest of another menacing High Priest) and has blogged about it here, while Dave of The Grace Pages also has something to say.... Last night was the final performance of the school show, and I volunteered to help with the bar to get another chance to experience it. This time it was even more powerful. Apparently the guy playing Jesus (remember the whole cast is aged 15-18) was so engaged by it that he wouldn't go to the greenroom in the interval, but chose to remain quiet backstage. Luci was asked by one or two at the pub afterwards how she'd found it from a Christian perspective, and there was some surprise when she said that her mum the curate had thought the whole thing was great...
I'm wondering what is going on here. Is the assumption that anyone involved in "church" will be uncomfortable with the human Jesus? That our raision d'etre is to keep God safely in the boxes we've built for him? How did we get to that place, when our task as ministers is surely to facilitate encounters between people and God? The total silence that accompanied Jesus' death on the cross was of the same order of concentration that is occasionally reached during the Eucharist, and I didn't feel as if I was the only person there consciously praying into it. Not sure that consciousness is an essential part of the deal in any case. God reaches out and touches people when they don't even think they are looking for him....and uses whatever is at hand.
I'm wondering what is going on here. Is the assumption that anyone involved in "church" will be uncomfortable with the human Jesus? That our raision d'etre is to keep God safely in the boxes we've built for him? How did we get to that place, when our task as ministers is surely to facilitate encounters between people and God? The total silence that accompanied Jesus' death on the cross was of the same order of concentration that is occasionally reached during the Eucharist, and I didn't feel as if I was the only person there consciously praying into it. Not sure that consciousness is an essential part of the deal in any case. God reaches out and touches people when they don't even think they are looking for him....and uses whatever is at hand.
Tuesday, March 15, 2005
"the greatest of these is worship."
It may not have escaped the notice of astute readers that, with all my reading of "Repitching the Tent" and excursions to study "Creating Uncommon Worship", I'm in the business of looking long and hard at the way we do things here...Just before I arrived, the parish had undertaken an audit called "The Way Ahead" and much of our time and energy is currently taken up with translating the hopes, fears and longings that emerged from this into some sort of workable picture of the church in this place, that may carry us through the next few years and even help us to engage with the vast mass of unchurched around us.
Currently, I would say that our worship is rather angst-ridden, with a huge concern that we should "get things right", which too often intrudes and prevents us from connecting with God. So, it did me huge good to read this post from someone who is exploring the same sorts of concerns in a rather different context, on the other side of the pond. He quotes Tom Wright's adaptation of 1 Cor 13, where "love" becomes "worship"..and the results of this substitution definitely bear consideration.
" So now our tasks are worship, mission, and management, these three; but the greatest of these is worship"
Go read the passage in full: it really is worth it....
Currently, I would say that our worship is rather angst-ridden, with a huge concern that we should "get things right", which too often intrudes and prevents us from connecting with God. So, it did me huge good to read this post from someone who is exploring the same sorts of concerns in a rather different context, on the other side of the pond. He quotes Tom Wright's adaptation of 1 Cor 13, where "love" becomes "worship"..and the results of this substitution definitely bear consideration.
" So now our tasks are worship, mission, and management, these three; but the greatest of these is worship"
Go read the passage in full: it really is worth it....
Ho- sanna, hey- sanna
Just back from the first night of the production of Jesus Christ Superstar for which my beloved son sacrificed his hair...and I have to say it was worth the sacrifice. There was something incredibly powerful about watching teenagers live through the agonies of the Passion, and my suspicion is that 90% of the cast had forgotten they were acting long before we reached Gethsemane.
It was stunning...even without the emotions of a mum realising that this is her daughter's last ever school play. Inevitably the rest of the run is a sell out,which is rather a shame as I'd love to go back for another dose later on...can't think of anything better to help me focus on the Holy Week ahead.
It was stunning...even without the emotions of a mum realising that this is her daughter's last ever school play. Inevitably the rest of the run is a sell out,which is rather a shame as I'd love to go back for another dose later on...can't think of anything better to help me focus on the Holy Week ahead.
Monday, March 14, 2005
Don't judge a boy by his cover...
Came home from Woolacombe to a strangely unfamiliar middle child. Giles, whose last hair cut was sometime before Greenbelt 2003, has had all his hair shaved off to enable him to act a more convincing Annas in the school's production of Jesus Christ Superstar this week.
The child was born with lots of hair...I've never ever seen his scalp before, and it looks disconcertingly as if he has had a rough time with chemo. Not quite sure why this is so disturbing,given that I know the real explanation, though I had a similar feeling the first time the kids borrowed Caroline's electric wheelchair...
But we are all wondering how the new look will impact on the rest of the world. G has threatened to become a Mail reading, Union Jack brandishing antithesis of himself for the duration, since he imagines that this is how he will be generally regarded. I must admit, I'm uncertain how the congregation will cope when he puts in one of his rare appearances in church on Easter Sunday. His protective covering, (egg cosy to the rest of us) will clearly not be permitted...so whatever else, he'll be jolly chilly.
And all for his Art!
The child was born with lots of hair...I've never ever seen his scalp before, and it looks disconcertingly as if he has had a rough time with chemo. Not quite sure why this is so disturbing,given that I know the real explanation, though I had a similar feeling the first time the kids borrowed Caroline's electric wheelchair...
But we are all wondering how the new look will impact on the rest of the world. G has threatened to become a Mail reading, Union Jack brandishing antithesis of himself for the duration, since he imagines that this is how he will be generally regarded. I must admit, I'm uncertain how the congregation will cope when he puts in one of his rare appearances in church on Easter Sunday. His protective covering, (egg cosy to the rest of us) will clearly not be permitted...so whatever else, he'll be jolly chilly.
And all for his Art!
And another good thing...
For some months, I've been trying to get hold of a copy of Mass Culture
Given the distinctly catholic ethos of this parish, it seemed only sensible, .but repeated forays onto Amazon and elsewhere suggested that I was unlikely to find a copy at a price I was willing to pay. It may be a great read, but over £60 for a paperback feels a little excessive.
So, imagine my joy when I spied one solitary copy sitting innocently amid the resources jonny had brought with him for the w'end...I fell upon it with cries of delight, and for a mere £5 it is mine. Mine, I tell you....My preciousssssss.
What's more, it seems to be a remarkably good investment, in terms of talking sense into my current context. One happy Kathryn heading upstairs to read now.
Given the distinctly catholic ethos of this parish, it seemed only sensible, .but repeated forays onto Amazon and elsewhere suggested that I was unlikely to find a copy at a price I was willing to pay. It may be a great read, but over £60 for a paperback feels a little excessive.
So, imagine my joy when I spied one solitary copy sitting innocently amid the resources jonny had brought with him for the w'end...I fell upon it with cries of delight, and for a mere £5 it is mine. Mine, I tell you....My preciousssssss.
What's more, it seems to be a remarkably good investment, in terms of talking sense into my current context. One happy Kathryn heading upstairs to read now.
That lovely weekend....
more than lived up to expectations. Escaping from home and parish was such a tonic, and jonny's input was everything I'd hoped for, and helped me to reflect on some important issues, specially in his use of the lectio divina in the Eucharist.
I'd rather failed to notice my struggle to worship when leading worship until it was, blissfully, taken away completely as jonny gave us the opportunity to simply engage with God exactly where we were...
One friend pointed out that in their recent interregnum some clergy had come to lead worship for them, while others had come to worship with them....something to ponder and attend to in the weeks and months ahead.
Lots of excellent material; very interesting seeing how others who'd not experienced alt. worship before related to it, were enthused, and looked for ways to connect it with their local contexts. I think even those who were most defensive ("alternative worship is for alternative people" said one woman rather tartly over supper on the first evening) found things they could appreciate and take away to work with....certainly I came home wishing I had time to rejig "Into the Wilderness" but rather happy that, even in its unimproved form, it will be available for the people here...we so need new ways to encounter God.
Lots of fantastic food...it was the sort of hotel I can't imagine ever staying in in any other context, and made us all feel thoroughly pampered
Lots of lovely empty sand just crying out to be written on (so of course, I had to oblige) and huge vistas of sea and sky...the sheer generosity of the landscape paralleled what was going on for me on so many fronts.
Lots to be thankful for :-)
I'd rather failed to notice my struggle to worship when leading worship until it was, blissfully, taken away completely as jonny gave us the opportunity to simply engage with God exactly where we were...
One friend pointed out that in their recent interregnum some clergy had come to lead worship for them, while others had come to worship with them....something to ponder and attend to in the weeks and months ahead.
Lots of excellent material; very interesting seeing how others who'd not experienced alt. worship before related to it, were enthused, and looked for ways to connect it with their local contexts. I think even those who were most defensive ("alternative worship is for alternative people" said one woman rather tartly over supper on the first evening) found things they could appreciate and take away to work with....certainly I came home wishing I had time to rejig "Into the Wilderness" but rather happy that, even in its unimproved form, it will be available for the people here...we so need new ways to encounter God.
Lots of fantastic food...it was the sort of hotel I can't imagine ever staying in in any other context, and made us all feel thoroughly pampered
Lots of lovely empty sand just crying out to be written on (so of course, I had to oblige) and huge vistas of sea and sky...the sheer generosity of the landscape paralleled what was going on for me on so many fronts.
Lots to be thankful for :-)
Friday, March 11, 2005
Let Joy be unconfined (yes, really)
This is just a post to make sure that the blogosphere is suitably envious :-)
Those nice people who sort CME for Gloucester have arranged for us curates to spend the w'end at a seaside hotel learning about alt. worship with jonny baker.
Yes, I know. I can't believe my good fortune either...but jonny's blog clearly says that this is happening, so it really must be true.
Wildly hyped up at fourfold prospect of exciting input, time with some very special friends, brief escape from the chaos of the curate's house AND seeing the sea as well. I don't need to leave till after lunch, but I think I'd better go and pack now. Then I can sit on the edge of my seat and count the minutes :-)
Those nice people who sort CME for Gloucester have arranged for us curates to spend the w'end at a seaside hotel learning about alt. worship with jonny baker.
Yes, I know. I can't believe my good fortune either...but jonny's blog clearly says that this is happening, so it really must be true.
Wildly hyped up at fourfold prospect of exciting input, time with some very special friends, brief escape from the chaos of the curate's house AND seeing the sea as well. I don't need to leave till after lunch, but I think I'd better go and pack now. Then I can sit on the edge of my seat and count the minutes :-)
Thursday, March 10, 2005
Encouragement to beleaguered liberals...
Our highest truths are but half truths;
Think not to settle down forever in any truth
Make use of it as a tent in which to spend a summer's night,
But build no house of it, or it will be your tomb.
When first you have an inkling of its insufficiency
and begin to descry a dim counterf-truth looming up beyond,
then weep not but give thanks;
It is the Lord's voice whispering
"Take up thy bed and walk"
It's far from great poetry (Arthur James, 1st Earl of Balfour....hmmmnnn....not someone I spent alot of time with during my Eng Lit days) but I do love the images of provisionality....and it helps to support my deeply held conviction that it's always best, as Oliver Cromwell so eloquently put it, to "Consider, in the bowels of Christ, that you may be wrong"
So there, Ruth Gledhill :-)
Think not to settle down forever in any truth
Make use of it as a tent in which to spend a summer's night,
But build no house of it, or it will be your tomb.
When first you have an inkling of its insufficiency
and begin to descry a dim counterf-truth looming up beyond,
then weep not but give thanks;
It is the Lord's voice whispering
"Take up thy bed and walk"
It's far from great poetry (Arthur James, 1st Earl of Balfour....hmmmnnn....not someone I spent alot of time with during my Eng Lit days) but I do love the images of provisionality....and it helps to support my deeply held conviction that it's always best, as Oliver Cromwell so eloquently put it, to "Consider, in the bowels of Christ, that you may be wrong"
So there, Ruth Gledhill :-)
Oh dear...
Finally found time to read Saturday's Times yesterday, and now rather wish I hadn't. Ruth Gledhill reported on survey of 20,000 church-goers and church leavers, " an idictment of modern preaching and worship, illustrating how how excessive liberalism and lack of conviction are driving worshippers from the pews".
No surprises, maybe, but I was still saddened to read it all in black and white...
"Because people believe that God will continue to love them no matter what they do,
[kf...can't argue with that]
...... they no longer see any need to go to church to confess their sins or seek guidance on how to changer their lives"
Hang on, are we only supposed to go because we are fearful of the consequences if we don't?...have I been missing something? What about that hymn "My God, I love thee, not because I hope for heaven thereby".That's surely one of the old familiars whose disappearance the report condemns by implication (there is a fair amount of complaint about dumbing down in family/all age worship...). Isn't there something rather important about our need and desire to respond to Love with love,- which brings us to worship? Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear....
There's a sad little graph showing the rapid decline of church attendance; that shouldn't worry us that much ( I don't care a jot where people encounter God as long as they do, and are changed by the experience) , perhaps, if only there was more understanding of why we might want to attend anyway. Oh, go and read it, please...I need some thoughtful responses to it.
No surprises, maybe, but I was still saddened to read it all in black and white...
"Because people believe that God will continue to love them no matter what they do,
[kf...can't argue with that]
...... they no longer see any need to go to church to confess their sins or seek guidance on how to changer their lives"
Hang on, are we only supposed to go because we are fearful of the consequences if we don't?...have I been missing something? What about that hymn "My God, I love thee, not because I hope for heaven thereby".That's surely one of the old familiars whose disappearance the report condemns by implication (there is a fair amount of complaint about dumbing down in family/all age worship...). Isn't there something rather important about our need and desire to respond to Love with love,- which brings us to worship? Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear....
There's a sad little graph showing the rapid decline of church attendance; that shouldn't worry us that much ( I don't care a jot where people encounter God as long as they do, and are changed by the experience) , perhaps, if only there was more understanding of why we might want to attend anyway. Oh, go and read it, please...I need some thoughtful responses to it.
Wisdom from the Bruderhof
Apologies to those who already get the Daily Dig but today's offering is so fantastic I don't think it will do anyone any harm to read it more than once....
Fruitfulness by Henri J. M. Nouwen
We are called to be fruitful, - not successful, not productive, not accomplished. Success comes from strength, stress and human effort. Fruitfulness comes from vulnerability and the admission of our own weakness.
Read more here
Fruitfulness by Henri J. M. Nouwen
We are called to be fruitful, - not successful, not productive, not accomplished. Success comes from strength, stress and human effort. Fruitfulness comes from vulnerability and the admission of our own weakness.
Read more here
Wednesday, March 09, 2005
Are you ready?
In recent rounds of the Interview Game, maggi has been asking fellow bloggers Rhys and Mark (both of whom seem unimaginably grown up in ministry to me, as I'm not yet one year old ;-) ) whether they feel that selection and training for ordained ministry works well (read their answers here and here ). They both travelled the more traditional route of a 2 year full-time residential course whereas I, with exam-ridden older children and a self-employed husband not keen to relocate his business , opted for three year's part-time here in Gloucestershire. For the most part I loved it. Academic study was sheer bliss after too long a holiday to rear the children. I relished the the fact that we were perhaps a more eclectic bunch than I might have encountered if I'd opted for a college to match my own churchmanship. The disjunction we experienced through only being together one night a week, plus assorted residential weekends and Easter schools each year was mitigated by many a midnight email, and I'm confident that I have soul-mates for life among those I trained with.
However, at times I felt very frustrated that time constraints meant that I could only read for a specific essay title, with no chance to explore other roads along the way. I was still trying to earn a living and do the essential mothering bits, so despite my best efforts at juggling, there simply wasn't time for more than a minimum,- and I was more and more excited by theology as the course progressed. As someone who depends on deadlines to get anything done at all, I was always trying to read that "one more book that would make all the difference"....and always aware of those other volumes that remained sadly on the shelf. Nothing was ever quite finished to my satisfaction, despite the extremely positive responses of my tutors. I always wanted a chance to do more, do better.
Now, 8 months into full time ministry, I'm so aware of all that I don't know, all that I've failed to read, all the areas there simply wasn't time to touch....but I'm also aware that the sense that there's so much more I could do was perhaps the best preparation of all. At the end of the day, nothing will ever feel quite enough. This extraordinary calling is one without boundaries, where it will rarely be possible to say "that's done and dusted", or "I've done my stint". Fortunately, it's not down to me to finish the job.
However, at times I felt very frustrated that time constraints meant that I could only read for a specific essay title, with no chance to explore other roads along the way. I was still trying to earn a living and do the essential mothering bits, so despite my best efforts at juggling, there simply wasn't time for more than a minimum,- and I was more and more excited by theology as the course progressed. As someone who depends on deadlines to get anything done at all, I was always trying to read that "one more book that would make all the difference"....and always aware of those other volumes that remained sadly on the shelf. Nothing was ever quite finished to my satisfaction, despite the extremely positive responses of my tutors. I always wanted a chance to do more, do better.
Now, 8 months into full time ministry, I'm so aware of all that I don't know, all that I've failed to read, all the areas there simply wasn't time to touch....but I'm also aware that the sense that there's so much more I could do was perhaps the best preparation of all. At the end of the day, nothing will ever feel quite enough. This extraordinary calling is one without boundaries, where it will rarely be possible to say "that's done and dusted", or "I've done my stint". Fortunately, it's not down to me to finish the job.
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
Into the Wilderness....reprise
An interactive Prayer Trail for Lent and Passiontide
St Mary's, Charlton Kings
Thursday 17th March
7.00-9.00 with music and candlelight
or follow the trail any time from noon Monday
to 6.30 Friday, except at regular service times
Go at your own pace; you might want to allow
up to an hour to make the best use of the resources
available.
Thursday 17th March
7.00-9.00 with music and candlelight
or follow the trail any time from noon Monday
to 6.30 Friday, except at regular service times
Go at your own pace; you might want to allow
up to an hour to make the best use of the resources
available.
Bargain!
npower, God bless them, are offering green electricity at no extra cost at the click of a mouse.
It's called juice and the Good in Parts household has just this minute signed up. I'm probably aeons behind the rest of you, but am hugely cheered that something so worthwhile is so amazingly straightforward to achieve. Large cheer for npower, unless somebody tells me otherwise.
It's called juice and the Good in Parts household has just this minute signed up. I'm probably aeons behind the rest of you, but am hugely cheered that something so worthwhile is so amazingly straightforward to achieve. Large cheer for npower, unless somebody tells me otherwise.
Thursday, March 03, 2005
It made me smile...
Just back from an Assembly at the junior school. It began with about a dozen earnest small girls playing 2 recorder pieces, "Be groovy" and "Be really groovy" . Each piece had jolly rag-time piano accompaniment, which was possibly just as well, as the recorder part consisted of endless variations on...yes...you've guessed...the note "B".
The mismatch between the aplomb of their performance and the notes themselves was simply breathtaking and, fittingly, brought the house down.
In case you're interested, the assembly was for World Book day, and I left the children queuing to explore a huge Victorian family Bible I rescued from a skip when working at Mowbrays a long long time ago.
The mismatch between the aplomb of their performance and the notes themselves was simply breathtaking and, fittingly, brought the house down.
In case you're interested, the assembly was for World Book day, and I left the children queuing to explore a huge Victorian family Bible I rescued from a skip when working at Mowbrays a long long time ago.
The interrogation continues....
More questions...this time for Dave, Dylan and Giles. Some of them are duplicates, partly because I ought to be writing my talk for Women's World Day of Prayer tomorrow, and partly because I really like hearing the answers...sorry if you feel I'm being uninventive.
Dave
1) What do you most enjoy about your work at the moment?
2) Tell us about one thing you hope to achieve before the end of the year (apart from clearing your desk)
3) Given unlimited funds, how would you choose to celebrate your next birthday.
4) If planted in a new city tomorrow, what would your criteria be for choosing a church?
5) What gives you hope for the Church, if anything!
Dylan
1) Tell us about your favourite poem. What is it and why is it special for you?
2) You have the chance to interview ANYONE in the world, living or dead, for an in-depth feature. Who do you choose and why?
3) Tell us about one thing that really made you smile this week.
4) You've suddenly found a gap in your diary, an unexpected day to yourself. How do you spend it?
5) What is your favourite part of worship? (I know this isnt an original question, but I really enjoyed answering it myself for reverend mommy)
And finally, Giles
(let me tell you, it feels seriously weird setting out to interview your own son :-) )
1) What book do you think has had most impact on your life so far?
2) You have the chance to introduce one new law to the UK statutes. What is it?
3) What would YOU rescue if the house went up in flames? (assuming you could find it in the chaos of your bedroom....oh no, hang on, sorry, that's your sister!)
4) What makes it hard for you to find God in church? (Is that an unfair question?....if it is, then tell us where you find Him most easily)
5) I'm planning a special meal for your next birthday. Who would you like me to invite, assuming that anyone asked would be bound to come.
There we are, folks...I'm now putting away my clipboard and returning to the construction of a creative 10 minutes on "Light for the world", thanks to the women of Poland. Must, must, must stay away from blogdom till it's done.
Dave
1) What do you most enjoy about your work at the moment?
2) Tell us about one thing you hope to achieve before the end of the year (apart from clearing your desk)
3) Given unlimited funds, how would you choose to celebrate your next birthday.
4) If planted in a new city tomorrow, what would your criteria be for choosing a church?
5) What gives you hope for the Church, if anything!
Dylan
1) Tell us about your favourite poem. What is it and why is it special for you?
2) You have the chance to interview ANYONE in the world, living or dead, for an in-depth feature. Who do you choose and why?
3) Tell us about one thing that really made you smile this week.
4) You've suddenly found a gap in your diary, an unexpected day to yourself. How do you spend it?
5) What is your favourite part of worship? (I know this isnt an original question, but I really enjoyed answering it myself for reverend mommy)
And finally, Giles
(let me tell you, it feels seriously weird setting out to interview your own son :-) )
1) What book do you think has had most impact on your life so far?
2) You have the chance to introduce one new law to the UK statutes. What is it?
3) What would YOU rescue if the house went up in flames? (assuming you could find it in the chaos of your bedroom....oh no, hang on, sorry, that's your sister!)
4) What makes it hard for you to find God in church? (Is that an unfair question?....if it is, then tell us where you find Him most easily)
5) I'm planning a special meal for your next birthday. Who would you like me to invite, assuming that anyone asked would be bound to come.
There we are, folks...I'm now putting away my clipboard and returning to the construction of a creative 10 minutes on "Light for the world", thanks to the women of Poland. Must, must, must stay away from blogdom till it's done.
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
A bit of nonsense part 2
Wow....I'd not expected to have all 5 places "filled" by bedtime, and will take a minute or two to think of half decent questions for all of you.
Here are the starter questions, first for John
1. Who is the person in your life who has most influenced you, and why?
2. Tell us about one thing in the past week that has really made you smile.
3. What one luxury would you take to your desert island?
4. What makes you happy about your local church,( if anything)?
5. You have a dream ticket to anywhere in the world...where do you choose to go?
Now Liz (being gentle, of course ;-) )
1. Tell us your favourite old film for a wet Sunday afternoon.
2. If you were not involved in your present career, what would you choose to do with your time? (aside from the inevitable "voluntary"full-time committment to a certain Festival of our acquaintance)
3. Your house is on fire. What one thing do you save, and why?
4. If you could spend a day with one person from the past, who would it be and why?
5. What makes you believe in God, on a good day?
And Sally
1. What CD are you currently playing most regularly, and why?
2. If not an engine driver, what did you want to be when you grew up?
3. What things in life make you really want to get up in the morning?
4. Tell us about a time when God felt specially close to you.
5. What book has had most impact on your life?
Hope you can all cope with those...it's surprisingly difficult to come up with things that are interesting but not intrusive. Clearly, if any of these feel wrong for you, there's no obligation!
Will try to come up with suitable interrogations for Dave and Giles tomorrow. Bedtime now...
Here are the starter questions, first for John
1. Who is the person in your life who has most influenced you, and why?
2. Tell us about one thing in the past week that has really made you smile.
3. What one luxury would you take to your desert island?
4. What makes you happy about your local church,( if anything)?
5. You have a dream ticket to anywhere in the world...where do you choose to go?
Now Liz (being gentle, of course ;-) )
1. Tell us your favourite old film for a wet Sunday afternoon.
2. If you were not involved in your present career, what would you choose to do with your time? (aside from the inevitable "voluntary"full-time committment to a certain Festival of our acquaintance)
3. Your house is on fire. What one thing do you save, and why?
4. If you could spend a day with one person from the past, who would it be and why?
5. What makes you believe in God, on a good day?
And Sally
1. What CD are you currently playing most regularly, and why?
2. If not an engine driver, what did you want to be when you grew up?
3. What things in life make you really want to get up in the morning?
4. Tell us about a time when God felt specially close to you.
5. What book has had most impact on your life?
Hope you can all cope with those...it's surprisingly difficult to come up with things that are interesting but not intrusive. Clearly, if any of these feel wrong for you, there's no obligation!
Will try to come up with suitable interrogations for Dave and Giles tomorrow. Bedtime now...
A bit of nonsense
Blogfriend the reverend mommy offered an interview game to her readers a few days ago, and, in a burst of sermon evasion I asked to play. She has posted 5 questions for me to answer here on my blog, and the idea is that if anyone else wants to play they post "interview me" in the comments here, and I dream up 5 questions for the first 5 responders in turn. They agree to continue the process by answering on their blogs...and so it goes on, and on, and on.
Here are my questions and answers. What's that? You have a pressing engagement with some drying paint?? So be it....
1. Why only good in parts? What parts?
"Good in parts" because I started blogging just after I became a curate,- and the main thing that many people seem to know about curates over here is the sad tale of the curate's egg. A rather nervous young cleric, anxious to offend nobody, found himself confronted by a less than fresh egg for breakfast while he was an overnight guest. He managed to force it down, and when his hostess enquired how he'd found the egg he replied diplomatically that it was "Good in parts..."
Also, even when I began blogging on the crest of a newly-ordained wave, I realised that this mad job was unlikely to be unadulterated joy from dawn to dusk. "Good in parts" reflects the reality of peaks and troughs. As to which parts are good...they are too numerous to post, but reading the blog might give you a few clues here and there.
2. What is your favourite part of worship? I think that depends on the needs I bring with me when I come into God's presence, but to distribute/receive Communion is always so very precious. To find myself involved with others in intimate encounter with God, week by week,- it's mind-blowing.
3. What is the hard part for you about being a woman in ministry? Not the work/family balance, as I might have expected....but rather the realisation that when I am ordained priest this summer I will by my very presence force some dear and lovely people to leave a church where they have been at home and happy for many many years. This isn't because they can't stand me, not because I preach things they don't want to hear, but because of something I have no control over i.e., I am a woman. Believe me, the knowledge that I am de-churching anyone hurts so much.
4. Tell us about your kids, in general or specific. It's a rash friend who invites a mum to blah about her children....I hope you're sitting comfortably :-)
My kids...make me sing for joy. Lucinda (18) is a poet and dreamer, a singer and musician, and is probably the person who understands me best on the planet. On the verge of flying the nest for university, to read English...I can't imagine how life will be without a girlfriend to giggle with and watch weak films on lazy afternoons (though it does seem a while since lazy afternoons were part of the programme anyway)
Giles (15) reads this blog, so I won't embarrass him by saying too much. At the moment he resembles a walking haystack (though I'm sure I'll miss the hair when its all shaved off in a couple of weeks, so he can be a high priest in Jesus Christ Superstar) but he still makes me so happy. He's the one with whom I can discuss big ideas late at night, the one who challenges me when I try to get away with sloppy thinking (his brain is scary....just as well that he's cuddly himself ;-) ) but he also has a mad mad sense of humour and can usually make me laugh, even on wet Wednesdays..
Jack (12) is still working out quite who he is. For the moment, he's warm hearted, loud and enthusiastic, grabbing opportunities by the scruff of the neck, a natural joiner (since we arrived here last summer, he has become chorister, server, youth group member and scout...every single group that he can belong to in our church!) Very much the baby at home, he's sensible and considerate beyond his years at school. As the child least like his mother, he's also the greatest challenge to parent....but full of (mostly) delightful surprises.
5. Dogs or cats? Both, please. We currently have 2 terriers (Mufti and Dillon) and 3 cats (Teddy, a 3 legged ginger, and Chloe and Tallis, mother and son, both black) . There has only been a 3 year period in my life when I've had neither, and that was not a happy phase. I guess only inner-city ministry might force me to consider a change of approach,- but I'll cross that bridge if I come to it.
Here are my questions and answers. What's that? You have a pressing engagement with some drying paint?? So be it....
1. Why only good in parts? What parts?
"Good in parts" because I started blogging just after I became a curate,- and the main thing that many people seem to know about curates over here is the sad tale of the curate's egg. A rather nervous young cleric, anxious to offend nobody, found himself confronted by a less than fresh egg for breakfast while he was an overnight guest. He managed to force it down, and when his hostess enquired how he'd found the egg he replied diplomatically that it was "Good in parts..."
Also, even when I began blogging on the crest of a newly-ordained wave, I realised that this mad job was unlikely to be unadulterated joy from dawn to dusk. "Good in parts" reflects the reality of peaks and troughs. As to which parts are good...they are too numerous to post, but reading the blog might give you a few clues here and there.
2. What is your favourite part of worship? I think that depends on the needs I bring with me when I come into God's presence, but to distribute/receive Communion is always so very precious. To find myself involved with others in intimate encounter with God, week by week,- it's mind-blowing.
3. What is the hard part for you about being a woman in ministry? Not the work/family balance, as I might have expected....but rather the realisation that when I am ordained priest this summer I will by my very presence force some dear and lovely people to leave a church where they have been at home and happy for many many years. This isn't because they can't stand me, not because I preach things they don't want to hear, but because of something I have no control over i.e., I am a woman. Believe me, the knowledge that I am de-churching anyone hurts so much.
4. Tell us about your kids, in general or specific. It's a rash friend who invites a mum to blah about her children....I hope you're sitting comfortably :-)
My kids...make me sing for joy. Lucinda (18) is a poet and dreamer, a singer and musician, and is probably the person who understands me best on the planet. On the verge of flying the nest for university, to read English...I can't imagine how life will be without a girlfriend to giggle with and watch weak films on lazy afternoons (though it does seem a while since lazy afternoons were part of the programme anyway)
Giles (15) reads this blog, so I won't embarrass him by saying too much. At the moment he resembles a walking haystack (though I'm sure I'll miss the hair when its all shaved off in a couple of weeks, so he can be a high priest in Jesus Christ Superstar) but he still makes me so happy. He's the one with whom I can discuss big ideas late at night, the one who challenges me when I try to get away with sloppy thinking (his brain is scary....just as well that he's cuddly himself ;-) ) but he also has a mad mad sense of humour and can usually make me laugh, even on wet Wednesdays..
Jack (12) is still working out quite who he is. For the moment, he's warm hearted, loud and enthusiastic, grabbing opportunities by the scruff of the neck, a natural joiner (since we arrived here last summer, he has become chorister, server, youth group member and scout...every single group that he can belong to in our church!) Very much the baby at home, he's sensible and considerate beyond his years at school. As the child least like his mother, he's also the greatest challenge to parent....but full of (mostly) delightful surprises.
5. Dogs or cats? Both, please. We currently have 2 terriers (Mufti and Dillon) and 3 cats (Teddy, a 3 legged ginger, and Chloe and Tallis, mother and son, both black) . There has only been a 3 year period in my life when I've had neither, and that was not a happy phase. I guess only inner-city ministry might force me to consider a change of approach,- but I'll cross that bridge if I come to it.
Monday, February 28, 2005
Humble Access, George Herbert and The Fountain
Yesterday was a looong day which began at 7.30 with Morning Prayer before the 8.00 Eucharist, and ended in the pub after some wonderful peace, space and inspiration thanks to The Fountain. As we stood in warm darkness round the altar, where bread was broken and shared (take some bread and give it to someone you don't know well...or several people....receive as much as you are offered...no limits....) the staggering reality of it all nearly overwhelmed me. I'd spent much of the day assisting at the Eucharist, together with a battery of servers, with bells rung, candles elevated and beautiful settings of the Agnus Dei,- but while we shared that loaf it seemed to me that all that had gone before was an elaborate way of ensuring that we kept our distance. In our liturgy, the `Prayer of Humble Access' ("We do not presume to come to this your table...") is the last prayer of the congregation before they come to receive the bread and wine. It's a good prayer, but its current position, immediately after the invitation to Communion "Draw near with faith", always feels like an additional stalling device. I imagine the Lord, tapping his fingers a tad impatiently, thinking to himself "I've told them to come to me....why don't they just come?"....and it hit me last night that all the ritual with which we surround that moment of receiving God in bread and wine has something of the same stalling quality.
I was blown away by the immediacy of our Communion with God and with each other at The Fountain....no fuss...we were invited to share, to partake, and we did.
Yesterday the Church remembered George Herbert (whose poetry was the subject of my never completed PhD) and as I drove home from Gloucester I realised that in the course of the day I'dbeen living through possibly his greatest poem,Love (iii)
"So I did sit and eat"
I was blown away by the immediacy of our Communion with God and with each other at The Fountain....no fuss...we were invited to share, to partake, and we did.
Yesterday the Church remembered George Herbert (whose poetry was the subject of my never completed PhD) and as I drove home from Gloucester I realised that in the course of the day I'dbeen living through possibly his greatest poem,Love (iii)
"So I did sit and eat"
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
I think we've missed something...
I've just been listening, in a desultory, day-off sort of way, to Women's Hour, where they were having a phone- in on loneliness. Nothing too startling there, perhaps, with all those familiar statistics telling us that more people now live alone than ever before. All sorts of perspectives were represented, with a groundswell of opinion that it wasn't always helpful to be offered companionship solely through networks of those in a similar position . Young mums were adamant that the toddler group wasn't always the answer, while pensioners lamented the narrow client-base of the groups offered to them. One lady suggested that the local council could promote situations in which people were able to encounter diverse ages and backgrounds, to offer mutual companionship and support.
'Sounds like the church', I thought to myself....but neither callers nor "experts" so much as hinted that this might be an issue that the church could engage with. Not even a nod in our direction. That hurt, really....and made me think, too, about how we square the circle of creating an inclusive community while embracing the insights about network society that are so much on the agenda for us. No conclusions, just sadness that we are so clearly missing the mark and failing to reach out even where there is a perceived need.
'Sounds like the church', I thought to myself....but neither callers nor "experts" so much as hinted that this might be an issue that the church could engage with. Not even a nod in our direction. That hurt, really....and made me think, too, about how we square the circle of creating an inclusive community while embracing the insights about network society that are so much on the agenda for us. No conclusions, just sadness that we are so clearly missing the mark and failing to reach out even where there is a perceived need.
Monday, February 21, 2005
Into the Wilderness
Right, all you kind souls who've been enquiring as to the success or otherwise of "Into the Wilderness".
In the cold light of dawn, having swept up sand from all sorts of unlikely places and surveyed the damage that one carefree teenager can wreak with a taper injudiciously applied to a length of sari fabric, I can nonetheless record that on balance it was a Good Thing :-)
There follows more information than any of you will either need or want...but it's good for me to review it aloud, so here goes. Feel no obligation to read on!
The church adapted itself beautifully to this new phenomenon...I was really pleased with the way the lighting worked, with the uplights on their dimmest setting and pools of candlelight at many of the stations. The meditations music from Late Late Service Deep Peace CD was absolutely right, and stilled almost everyone instantly.
I never got round the whole trail myself, but had a pretty good time just sitting by the door, with it all unfolding gently around me.
Due to time constraints and the size of the Youth Group, we had to start people off in groups of 4 and despite suggestions that they might prefer to alter the order of stations, provided they remained within the same zone (there were 3; the inward journey; encounter with God and the journey out) they seemed rather intent on clumping together to start with at least.
We used the font for a "letting go" meditation at the very beginning and one rather lovely thing that happened was that people started using the water the cross on each other's foreheads before they moved on...pilgrimage is a group activity.
Some stations held them for ages. One, "Shaping", involved reading lines from ps 139 and then using clay to respond to them. EVERYONE spent ages with this and even those who'd been rushing round at top speed seemed to become still as they worked here
They moved on from this to holy space...bread and grape juice set out on a tablecloth just inside the altar rails, with beanbags and suggestions that they just chill and be with God; again something I'd not envisaged happened...because they tended to arrive there in twos, though they weren't talking, some groups gave each other the bread. It felt as if some powerful stuff was going on here.
All of them had a very positive response to the "Impressions" station (that's right, the one for which I need the sandpit and the not-so-dry sand) .and the buried treasure scrolls seemed to strike a chord too.
Initial feedback suggests that even those who mostly whizzed along the trail say they got something out of the experience...and two or three specifically came to find me and tell me that they'd found it helpful. (I do have the Visitor's Book...but feel rather that I shouldn't be reading that, since most of the comments are addressed to God).
So...all in all...
YES
:-)
Would I do it again?
Another "Yes". In fact I'm hoping to use much of the same material, plus some specific Passion tide material, in the week leading up to Palm Sunday. (If anyone has any bright ideas of how I could somehow combine alt.worship with traditional Stations of the Cross, I could do it in Holy Week itself....but at the moment that looks rather a daunting impossibility...).
But it was, as all you alt.worship gurus know, a very labour-intensive activity, which I would really have struggled with if my family had not been on half term and feeling obliging. At the moment I cant see anyone in the congregation who looks a likely ally for future creations, so they'll have to be very thinly scattered through the year, unless that changes.
It was a water-shed for me, as I've really struggled with the building's limitations since arriving here, but last night I saw the whole thing differently...but then, transformation is rather the point of the exercise, I think.
In the cold light of dawn, having swept up sand from all sorts of unlikely places and surveyed the damage that one carefree teenager can wreak with a taper injudiciously applied to a length of sari fabric, I can nonetheless record that on balance it was a Good Thing :-)
There follows more information than any of you will either need or want...but it's good for me to review it aloud, so here goes. Feel no obligation to read on!
The church adapted itself beautifully to this new phenomenon...I was really pleased with the way the lighting worked, with the uplights on their dimmest setting and pools of candlelight at many of the stations. The meditations music from Late Late Service Deep Peace CD was absolutely right, and stilled almost everyone instantly.
I never got round the whole trail myself, but had a pretty good time just sitting by the door, with it all unfolding gently around me.
Due to time constraints and the size of the Youth Group, we had to start people off in groups of 4 and despite suggestions that they might prefer to alter the order of stations, provided they remained within the same zone (there were 3; the inward journey; encounter with God and the journey out) they seemed rather intent on clumping together to start with at least.
We used the font for a "letting go" meditation at the very beginning and one rather lovely thing that happened was that people started using the water the cross on each other's foreheads before they moved on...pilgrimage is a group activity.
Some stations held them for ages. One, "Shaping", involved reading lines from ps 139 and then using clay to respond to them. EVERYONE spent ages with this and even those who'd been rushing round at top speed seemed to become still as they worked here
They moved on from this to holy space...bread and grape juice set out on a tablecloth just inside the altar rails, with beanbags and suggestions that they just chill and be with God; again something I'd not envisaged happened...because they tended to arrive there in twos, though they weren't talking, some groups gave each other the bread. It felt as if some powerful stuff was going on here.
All of them had a very positive response to the "Impressions" station (that's right, the one for which I need the sandpit and the not-so-dry sand) .and the buried treasure scrolls seemed to strike a chord too.
Initial feedback suggests that even those who mostly whizzed along the trail say they got something out of the experience...and two or three specifically came to find me and tell me that they'd found it helpful. (I do have the Visitor's Book...but feel rather that I shouldn't be reading that, since most of the comments are addressed to God).
So...all in all...
YES
:-)
Would I do it again?
Another "Yes". In fact I'm hoping to use much of the same material, plus some specific Passion tide material, in the week leading up to Palm Sunday. (If anyone has any bright ideas of how I could somehow combine alt.worship with traditional Stations of the Cross, I could do it in Holy Week itself....but at the moment that looks rather a daunting impossibility...).
But it was, as all you alt.worship gurus know, a very labour-intensive activity, which I would really have struggled with if my family had not been on half term and feeling obliging. At the moment I cant see anyone in the congregation who looks a likely ally for future creations, so they'll have to be very thinly scattered through the year, unless that changes.
It was a water-shed for me, as I've really struggled with the building's limitations since arriving here, but last night I saw the whole thing differently...but then, transformation is rather the point of the exercise, I think.
Sunday, February 20, 2005
You have to laugh...
No doubt seasoned alt. worshippers could have warned me about this, but I'm sure I didn't ignore a crucial para in the books nor even among jonny's worship tricks. Yesterday I purchased, from a local toy shop, two small but adequate plastic sacks of sand. I kind of assumed they contained sand, as it said on the label...instead of which, when I opened them this afternoon (thankfully I was being atypically prompt in my preparations)there seemed to be a glutinous sand-based mud. Several pints of water, definitely.
This was fine for the "Making an Impression" station....but less satisfactory for the "promises in the sand" one, where I was burying dozens of little scrolls with bits of Scripture written on them. So......
Husband, son and curate spent much of the afternoon wielding hair dryers, ovens, gas rings and any additional forms of heating/drying we could think of in a desperate attempt to dessicate the sand sufficiently for my purposes. The boys were still at it when I left for Evensong...
If son were not now in bed, sleeping the sleep of the righteous sand-dryer, I would be able to post photographic evidence of this. Maybe tomorrow...when I might tell you all about "Into the Wilderness" too.
This was fine for the "Making an Impression" station....but less satisfactory for the "promises in the sand" one, where I was burying dozens of little scrolls with bits of Scripture written on them. So......
Husband, son and curate spent much of the afternoon wielding hair dryers, ovens, gas rings and any additional forms of heating/drying we could think of in a desperate attempt to dessicate the sand sufficiently for my purposes. The boys were still at it when I left for Evensong...
If son were not now in bed, sleeping the sleep of the righteous sand-dryer, I would be able to post photographic evidence of this. Maybe tomorrow...when I might tell you all about "Into the Wilderness" too.
Surprised by joy...
Not a reference to dearly beloved C.S. Lewis, great though he is, but to my experience as Deacon at the Eucharist this morning. As usual I read the Gospel, which in my current context involves a procession, assorted acolytes, crucifers and book-bearers. The accompanying anxiety at getting from A to B without falling over any of them meant that I was well into the story of Nicodemus from John 3 when I realised that, instead of ending at the end of the page the reading continued overleaf..up to, and indeed beyond, verse 16.
To stand there in the middle of the assembly of God's people and speak those words aloud was the most mind-blowing privilege..the words were so real that they almost burned on the page and I was allowed to share them with others.
"For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him should not die but have everlasting life."
Thanks be to God, indeed.
To stand there in the middle of the assembly of God's people and speak those words aloud was the most mind-blowing privilege..the words were so real that they almost burned on the page and I was allowed to share them with others.
"For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him should not die but have everlasting life."
Thanks be to God, indeed.
Friday, February 18, 2005
Serendipity?
Yesterday evening my husband came home with a sandpit...yes, a sandpit ...which he'd spotted on a skip while visiting a customer. Even I had to concede that this was little short of a miracle. I even managed to be nice to him for at least an hour afterwards.
The reason for my joy?
Now I have something in which footmarks can be left on Sunday evening.
Did anyone claim that God doesn't take care of details? :-)
The reason for my joy?
Now I have something in which footmarks can be left on Sunday evening.
Did anyone claim that God doesn't take care of details? :-)
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
Curate's Surprise!
No..not a new kind of cocktail, nor even an ice-cream sundae, but the heading for this week's session with the Youth Group. A long long time ago, I apparently agreed to provide some sort of game/activity/think spot for this coming Sunday...the surprise element, I imagine, was not intended to reflect my degree of preparedness for this, but, as is the way of things, a little ambiguity spices up the mixture.
Faced last Sunday with the realisation that it was coming up next week (how on earth did that happen??) I went into free-fall panic mode and then decided that this must be the moment to try a teeny weeny bit of an experiment.
So...the Curate's Surprise will be "Into the desert: a interactive Prayer Trail for Lent" (not a labyrinth in the end...no space to lay one out, due to overabundance of our blessed pews, and insufficient time to do so anyway, as I can't begin till the last soul has left after Evensong). To-day's surprise is how very rewarding I've found it trawling through resources (where would anyone be without jonny or sue ?), planning and praying till it feels as if I've something that God wants to use with those teens. Those of you well-versed in alt.worship would be totally underwhelmed by the whole thing, but this will be my first attempt at putting something like this together and it will certainly be an unknown quantity for most of the community here. Many of the youth group are largely there for the football... Prayers for Sunday evening would be much appreciated.
Faced last Sunday with the realisation that it was coming up next week (how on earth did that happen??) I went into free-fall panic mode and then decided that this must be the moment to try a teeny weeny bit of an experiment.
So...the Curate's Surprise will be "Into the desert: a interactive Prayer Trail for Lent" (not a labyrinth in the end...no space to lay one out, due to overabundance of our blessed pews, and insufficient time to do so anyway, as I can't begin till the last soul has left after Evensong). To-day's surprise is how very rewarding I've found it trawling through resources (where would anyone be without jonny or sue ?), planning and praying till it feels as if I've something that God wants to use with those teens. Those of you well-versed in alt.worship would be totally underwhelmed by the whole thing, but this will be my first attempt at putting something like this together and it will certainly be an unknown quantity for most of the community here. Many of the youth group are largely there for the football... Prayers for Sunday evening would be much appreciated.
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
The CME wasn't all wasted...
Thanks to Ian for this, which feels scarily close to the likely reaction of most of the people here. You think I'm joking??
Sunday, February 13, 2005
Can't win em all
Clearly God knew what He was doing when He sent me that little boy this morning.
This evening featured my monthly session at the local care home where most of the residents have kind of lost track of who they are, and most other things too. I thought it was going really well. We sang a hymn, heard a reading, prayed a bit, I wittered about Lent, we prayed and sang some more,= including Amazing Grace...three times...by request.
Finally, after another prayer or two I suggested we close with the Grace, which we did.
In the silence afterwards a voice from the corner piped up
"So, are we having a service tonight then?"
This evening featured my monthly session at the local care home where most of the residents have kind of lost track of who they are, and most other things too. I thought it was going really well. We sang a hymn, heard a reading, prayed a bit, I wittered about Lent, we prayed and sang some more,= including Amazing Grace...three times...by request.
Finally, after another prayer or two I suggested we close with the Grace, which we did.
In the silence afterwards a voice from the corner piped up
"So, are we having a service tonight then?"
One of those moments ...
.... when you know for sure why you are doing this job.
Curate to small boy at altar rail
"May Jesus bless you today and every day. He loves you very much."
Small boy with the sort of smile that lights up a whole week
"I KNOW".
Was I ever under the misapprehension that I was the one doing the ministering??
Curate to small boy at altar rail
"May Jesus bless you today and every day. He loves you very much."
Small boy with the sort of smile that lights up a whole week
"I KNOW".
Was I ever under the misapprehension that I was the one doing the ministering??
Wednesday, February 09, 2005
Dust and ashes
Every so often, liturgy really seems to get it right and achieve what it describes....This evening I heard again and again "Remember, you are dust and to dust you shall return.Turn away from sin and be faithful to Christ" and the effect was inescapably humbling. Saying those same words to my much-loved boss, I felt as if I was somehow passing sentence upon him...which was both weird, uncomfortable and deeply moving,- though of course the whole point of the service is that the sentence is common to all humanity.
Then, the solemn effect was rather ruined. I had been warned that this year's ash was "tricky"(clearly the sacristan did need Tom's recipe :-) ) and that I would need to apply it with some force if I wanted to achieve a visible cross at all. I followed this advice, so for the rest of the service, poor M looked as if he'd had a target painted on to his forehead with creosote. I may only have had to ash him this year, but by gum I ashed him well and truly...No half hearted little smudges here. He was branded, poor man...
Still not sure what I'm trying by way of Lenten discipline, which doesn't auger well...but am seriously considering trying to give up guilt for Lent, in line with Rhys wonderful 10 Commandments. I've been inspired to read Stephen Cottrell's Lent book from last year I thirst
and there are one or two others about the place that I would really like to get into as the weeks go by,- but the big one is prayer, and for that my strategies are rather lacking... Giving it a sensible portion of time is at least a starting point, so start I shall.
Then, the solemn effect was rather ruined. I had been warned that this year's ash was "tricky"(clearly the sacristan did need Tom's recipe :-) ) and that I would need to apply it with some force if I wanted to achieve a visible cross at all. I followed this advice, so for the rest of the service, poor M looked as if he'd had a target painted on to his forehead with creosote. I may only have had to ash him this year, but by gum I ashed him well and truly...No half hearted little smudges here. He was branded, poor man...
Still not sure what I'm trying by way of Lenten discipline, which doesn't auger well...but am seriously considering trying to give up guilt for Lent, in line with Rhys wonderful 10 Commandments. I've been inspired to read Stephen Cottrell's Lent book from last year I thirst
and there are one or two others about the place that I would really like to get into as the weeks go by,- but the big one is prayer, and for that my strategies are rather lacking... Giving it a sensible portion of time is at least a starting point, so start I shall.
Wise advice.
I spent yesterday, along with many others, at a pre-Lent Quiet Day in the Cathedral, led by +Stephen Cottrell....His theme "A Pastoral Letter to Myself" had emerged from a "build a better bishop" course which he and our diocesan had recently undergone, as part of their first year induction training. Among many gems, the mantra I came back with was
"Make time for prayer, make time for sleep and then do what you can."
On the verge of what looks to be a rather frantic season, I hope to hang onto this...and am grateful to the noble three who turned out this morning to give meaning to the Bishop's vision of churches open for prayer and people praying together this Lent.
"Make time for prayer, make time for sleep and then do what you can."
On the verge of what looks to be a rather frantic season, I hope to hang onto this...and am grateful to the noble three who turned out this morning to give meaning to the Bishop's vision of churches open for prayer and people praying together this Lent.
Friday, February 04, 2005
Sorted!
In my comments box below, Tom penned these words, which I find so very helpful that I thought I'd put them up in lights...
"We need constantly to remind ourselves that we are sharing Christ's peace and not our own meagre human peace. So I have found myself saying to people - well at least offer it, even if that isn't quite where your heart is at the moment - but equally understanding when people find that impossible"
From my point of view, this gives me something I really feel I can work with. It's so horribly easy to be aware of the human perspectives in worship to the near-exclusion of the divine....but it's not about us, is it?
"We need constantly to remind ourselves that we are sharing Christ's peace and not our own meagre human peace. So I have found myself saying to people - well at least offer it, even if that isn't quite where your heart is at the moment - but equally understanding when people find that impossible"
From my point of view, this gives me something I really feel I can work with. It's so horribly easy to be aware of the human perspectives in worship to the near-exclusion of the divine....but it's not about us, is it?
Thursday, February 03, 2005
The dilemma continues
In his comment on passing the Peace below Dave said "sometimes actions have to lead meanings" which set me off wondering how one balances this kind of aspirational behaviour with the need to be honest in our relationships. Could one call tooth-clenched peace-passing hypocrisy, if there is a deep mismatch between feelings and actions?
Certainly I tend to work on Dave's basis (as I've interpreted it...sorry if I read you wrong, Dave) in most things, and try madly to behave lovingly to those whom, frankly, I struggle to like. Sometimes this backfires massively as people assume that I'm their dearest friend and I then find myself taking panicky evasive action for months...but sometimes, though not often enough, it seems to work and to effect the change in me that I aspire to. One of the early Fathers wrote something like
"Not what thou art, nor what thou hast been, but what thou wouldst be beholdest God in his mercy" (prize to anyone who can tell me who and where...I just can't find it)
which would seem to suggest that if we want to live in love and peace with all, but aren't quite managing it on a daily basis, God will honour the intention. On the other hand, there's some rather uncomfortable stuff about whitewashed tombs about the place too. Oh heck. On the whole, perhaps it's just as well that I'm not in the parish this Sunday; perhaps I'll have resolved this before I next have to do any Peace-passing!
Certainly I tend to work on Dave's basis (as I've interpreted it...sorry if I read you wrong, Dave) in most things, and try madly to behave lovingly to those whom, frankly, I struggle to like. Sometimes this backfires massively as people assume that I'm their dearest friend and I then find myself taking panicky evasive action for months...but sometimes, though not often enough, it seems to work and to effect the change in me that I aspire to. One of the early Fathers wrote something like
"Not what thou art, nor what thou hast been, but what thou wouldst be beholdest God in his mercy" (prize to anyone who can tell me who and where...I just can't find it)
which would seem to suggest that if we want to live in love and peace with all, but aren't quite managing it on a daily basis, God will honour the intention. On the other hand, there's some rather uncomfortable stuff about whitewashed tombs about the place too. Oh heck. On the whole, perhaps it's just as well that I'm not in the parish this Sunday; perhaps I'll have resolved this before I next have to do any Peace-passing!
Tuesday, February 01, 2005
Peace at any price?
A good friend whose integrity and conscience I hold in high esteem has been distinctly "off" God lately and blogged recently on the impossibility of offering the Peace honestly while struggling with a particular relationship at work..For her this had become such a huge issue that it dominated the entire service in a thoroughly unhelpful way. It struck me as distinctly ironic that she, while claiming no Christian allegiance at present, is so much more scrupulous about the need to be "in love and charity with her neighbour" than too many who approach Communion with no qualms (though I guess if we waited to be ready to receive...yes, well, let's not go there....)
On her blog, this sparked the sort of "Peace or not discussion" which seems inevitable in most churches from time to time...so I thought, why not? Let's give it another airing.
So here are a few reasons why I am largely in favour of the Peace...
1) because it CAN and SHOULD be an opportunity to heal broken relationships before receiving Communion...and is good theology, obedient to Jesus's command (Matt 5 22-25) (...make the most of that, it's not often you'll catch me actually quoting Scripture ;-) )
2)because it can break down barriers between groups and individuals in the church family...when we first moved to our previous house, we knew nobody in the village, but the children adopted 2 quite excellent honorary grandparents by dint of moving in on them during the Peace and somehow never quite leaving.
3)because (to repeat my comments on that blog) it can provide a bit of human contact for otherwise lonely and untouched souls
All of this only holds good if you are actually attempting to match deeds with thoughts...to go through the motions while harbouring murderous intentions is clearly never a good idea. I do recognise as well how the Peace can also work against community, isolating those who are not "in the know" still further...it is so awful when you visit a church and find yourself politely shaking the hands nearest to you while all around others are flinging their arms around their dearest friends whom they've clearly not seen since...ooh...at least last Sunday!
By nature a touchy feely type, I'm mindful too of those for whom such contact is deeply uncomfortable..the sheer embarassment factor can be huge, I'm certain.
But, despite all this, to remove the rite from the liturgy would seem to me to imply that it is possible for the Body of Christ to operate as though were simply a group of disparate individuals, as if our worship as community did not in fact matter. I think we need the discomfort, the long hard looks at our relationships, even perhaps the occasional embarassment along the way. Sorry Mrs Beamish, but your day is not yet!
On her blog, this sparked the sort of "Peace or not discussion" which seems inevitable in most churches from time to time...so I thought, why not? Let's give it another airing.
So here are a few reasons why I am largely in favour of the Peace...
1) because it CAN and SHOULD be an opportunity to heal broken relationships before receiving Communion...and is good theology, obedient to Jesus's command (Matt 5 22-25) (...make the most of that, it's not often you'll catch me actually quoting Scripture ;-) )
2)because it can break down barriers between groups and individuals in the church family...when we first moved to our previous house, we knew nobody in the village, but the children adopted 2 quite excellent honorary grandparents by dint of moving in on them during the Peace and somehow never quite leaving.
3)because (to repeat my comments on that blog) it can provide a bit of human contact for otherwise lonely and untouched souls
All of this only holds good if you are actually attempting to match deeds with thoughts...to go through the motions while harbouring murderous intentions is clearly never a good idea. I do recognise as well how the Peace can also work against community, isolating those who are not "in the know" still further...it is so awful when you visit a church and find yourself politely shaking the hands nearest to you while all around others are flinging their arms around their dearest friends whom they've clearly not seen since...ooh...at least last Sunday!
By nature a touchy feely type, I'm mindful too of those for whom such contact is deeply uncomfortable..the sheer embarassment factor can be huge, I'm certain.
But, despite all this, to remove the rite from the liturgy would seem to me to imply that it is possible for the Body of Christ to operate as though were simply a group of disparate individuals, as if our worship as community did not in fact matter. I think we need the discomfort, the long hard looks at our relationships, even perhaps the occasional embarassment along the way. Sorry Mrs Beamish, but your day is not yet!
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