Homily for Easter 5

There's a popular view, usually espoused by those who aren't Christians, that the church should keep well out of politics.

It's a view that is understandable if you understand faith and practice as a bolt-on extra, a refuge from the problems of life, but if you see your faith as something that shapes your whole world view, seven days a week,then clearly it's another matter.

I would never presume to tell anyone how to vote, and I'm thankful for the secret ballot that means we all have the space to vote according to our conscience without any fear, favour or peer pressure. It is a genuine blessing – and not something to be taken lightly.

But I do think that there are some underlying principles that might well guide our thoughts as we enter the polling station on Thursday....Though some of the Christian press might suggest otherwise, trying to guess how Jesus would vote is really a bit silly. We could find verses from all over the gospels to support eachl of the main parties, and a heap of others besides, but that wouldn't really help us much. Now, though, might be a good time to reread some of Christ's teachings for ourselves, if we want clear though challenging ethical guidelines. If we seriously want to see the world become a better place we could do worse than start with the sermon on the Mount, though we might not enjoy its conclusions....

The problem is that our electoral system is based fairly and squarly on adversarial politics. Through the past weeks we have heard as much about why X is wrong as we have about why Y is right. We have been encouraged to draw up battle lines, to define ourselves in partisan terms...

It's a natual human instinct, but not one that the gospel encourages.

Think of our reading from Acts...with its great message of inclusion.

Jesus was born into a culture that drew clear lines between those who were in and those who were out. His followers, not unreasonably, assumed that they were called to continue in the same way. Their risen Lord was a Saviour for the Jews...Why should they have to mix with Gentiles?

But then God showed Peter, and through him the whole church, the breadth of his love......

If then God gave them the same gift that he gave us when we believed in the Lord Jesus Christ, who was I that I could hinder God?"When they heard this, they were silenced. And they praised God, saying, "Then God has given even to the Gentiles the repentance that leads to life."

That's not something that is easy for us to grasp – any more than it was easy for the disciples. We cannot help but define the world in terms of them and us – and there's nothing wrong with that in itself. It's simply an expression of truth. However great our gifts of empathy, each of us always and only sees through her own eyes

BUT there is a danger when we use that perspective as a way of claiming our rights over and against those of other people, of asserting our superiority at the expense of others...Too much of the election campaign, across the parties, has played directly into our innate human greed...

We are encouraged to vote for the party most likely to benefit ourselves and people like us...I suspect, though, that this course of action isn't really open to us if we take our faith seriously.

Listen to Jesus – that's surely what we, who try to follow, must always seek to do.

I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.

That's it, really.

It goes against the grain, - of course it does. “Just as I have loved you” means unconditional, selfless love that holds nothing in reserve. We know where loving like that got Jesus – and it's hard to think of voting for that for ourselves...but then again, he never said it would be easy!

Love one another Just as I have loved you

That might mean that we find ourselves voting in ways we had never expected.

Think of the manifesto that Jesus delivered in the synagogue in Nazareth

“The spirit of the Lord God is upon me,

  because the Lord has anointed me;

he has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed,

   to bind up the broken-hearted,

to proclaim liberty to the captives,

   and release to the prisoners;

It's the same agenda that Mary celebrated in the Magnificat...Challenging the powerful, lifting up the lowly, filling the hungry with good things, sending the rich away

Not so much election as revolution.

I'm not sure I've heard any of our candidates trying to sell themselves that way...though I hope if I had I would have the courage to vote for them.

On the whole, though,that's not the sort of policy that wins votes.

Nonetheless, as we ask God's blessing on our country and pray for wisdom at the ballot box, perhaps it's the yardstick against which we should measure all those who seek to lead and govern in the years ahead.

Bubbles

I had just come out of the Co-op...stopping off for a bottle of milk and a bag of salad after a funeral.

It had been raining, but the sky was clearing, and across the roofs of the parked cars I saw a trail of bubbles, catching the evening sun, gleaming in rainbow colours.

I stopped to enjoy them while weary shoppers trudged past me (it's interesting how rarely they seem to stride, rush, march in these parts...here in the valley, there are too many who are defeated by life, unsure that they have anything much worth hurrying towards)

I'm not sure if they even noticed this sudden gift of unexpected beauty on a Thursday evening.

Then, from behind the parked cars the source of the bubbles came in sight...Two girls, bright in summer cotton, heading with their mother towards the shop.

I thanked them for transforming my evening. Their mother smiled. I think she understood...

Friday Five - Friendship

Friendship

My friend Kathrynzj (with whom I shared a cabin on the very first RevGals Big Event, 2 years ago) is just home from this year's joyous reunion...and writes thus 

I spent the better part of last week on a continuing education cruise with a group of revgals. Both the class on hospitality and the connections made with friends (old and new) were phenomenal. I always have a difficult time with re-entry into reality from times away but this, aided by getting nailed with strep throat, has been more difficult than usual. Not only does it a take a few days (weeks? months?) for it to stop feeling like I am on a boat, but my heart misses my friends.

In parish life the boundaries are clear and they are there for a reason, but it can make the life of a minister a lonely one. It is such a tremendous gift to spend a few days with women who not only are wonderful and gifted, but who also get exactly what you do and why you do it. The hugs are genuine and free and the laughter is awesome.

Many of us have friendships - past and present - with these same qualities. And so today we will celebrate Friday with friendship:

1) Do you remember your first best friend? What did you do together? Are they still in your life?

C. and I met in the sandpit on our first day at school...We were both 4 years old. After a hiatus when we went to different schools, we reconnected in the 6th form and have never looked back. Her parents hosted my 18th birthday party in a wonderful barn conversion her father had just finished...At my 21st birthday party, she met her future husband. She is Godmother to my first born, as I am to hers...who celebrated HIS 21st birthday just this week. We dont see each other often now, as we're some three hours drive apart (which, in the UK, feels like a big deal), but when we do we always pick up exactly where we left off. We have shared so much - birth, death, joy, tears...I love her dearly.

2) Did you ever have to move away or have your best friend move away from you?

We were a fairly stable community growing up...S my other best friend, who felt more like a sister, went away to boarding school when I was 8 - I remember being supposed to be happy that she had won a place at the school she needed to attend,and just wanting to cry and cry because she would be going away and nothing would ever be the same again. As it happens, I was wrong...some friendships transcend even boarding school!

3) Are there people in your life now that you can call 'friend'?

Thanks be to God, there are indeed. I'm blessed with many wonderful women, (and some no less wonderful men)  many (though not all of them) clergy - because, you see, this is a VERY odd way to spend your life, and it does help if those whom you spend time with have some understanding of its many peculiarities. I have friends from the last parish who are now allowed to be proper friends, as the muddy waters have retreated...I even have one friend just across the road. But I am so exceedingly extrovert that I really need all of them - and can still feel quite forlorn and out on a limb occasionally. Having people about with whom it's safe to both laugh and cry without reserve is really important...Learning to make sure I spend time with my friends doing just that is something I'm working on this year...

4) What are some of your favorite things to do with your friends?

Walk with the dogs and talk as we go

Enjoy a curry and talk as we go

Share a bottle of red wine as the rain beats down and ......yes....that's the one

5) What is a gift friendship has given you?

The confidence to believe that I am loveable...None of the beloved people I call "friend" has any obligation to seek me out and spend time with me...that they do so, for no good reason beyond the fact that they want to, makes my world a shiney place.

Effective ministry in every parish??

That's the title of a report commissioned by FabBishop and currently making its way around deaneries, after a mixed reception at diocesan synod.
It's central premise is  that each community needs, and thus each community already has, a "God person" - someone  prayerful, holy, to whom people naturally turn when they have a spiritual need.Thinking of the Cotswold villages where I served as a Reader, each place did indeed have such a person - and when Local Ministry came on the scene, they were early and obvious members of the LMT. In larger urban or suburban communities, though such people might be obvious to the church family, they won't be evident to the wider world so some form of official category begins to be helpful...
So far, so good.


Now we're revisiting the same issue - with the thought that all such "God people" should be trained, accredited, licensed. Some might discern a call to Local Ordained Ministry, others would become Locally Licensed Ministers.
It's causing all sorts of upset.
On the one hand, there's anxiety and indignation that those who are actually doing the business, acting as resources for prayer and pastoring in (particularly) rural communities should be asked to jump through further hoops by way of training and accreditation. There's worry that the end product of the whole initiative might simply be a new tier of ordained ministry, and a way of propping up structures of church that need to be challenged, changed, transformed...There's worry too that licensed Readers and Local Ministry Team members might feel sidelined and undervalued as energy is channelled into the new scheme.
Then there's a different sort of anxiety, that some communities might simply not have any identifiable candidates. I think that might be the case in one of my parishes,-so there has been talk about the scheme leading simply to the publication of details of a "first call" person for crises in each location.....perhaps a Church Warden. That sounds more attainable, but loses sight of the initial vision of holiness.
Further upset.

It seems to me that once again we are in real danger of confusing ministry with function.  I have just had to write a report for the Bishop about the Herring of Christ's diaconal year. It's been a good one, I think, though absolutely unlike my own experience as a full time stipendiary curate. He has other responsibilities, other spheres on ministry and I think that for the moment the parish will continue to take second place...So what does this mean for his priesthood. Will he be jetted in as a "Mass Priest" - able to preside at the Eucharist in one community, but acting as the holy person most consistently in another (his workplace)? He can and will carry out the liturgical functions of priesthood, but his priestly formation and the fullest expression of his ministry is in his weekday community where I, his training incumbent, have absolutely no points of reference, nor any legitimate access...It has led to some interesting conversations through the year, and I hope that the report that I submitted will stimulate similar discussions on high. In my final paragraph I described the diocesan template for the year as rather a procrustean bed...I spent too long worrying about our inability to conform to something based on a different sort of ministry altogether, and have doubtless missed out on, and failed to celebrate,the many God-moments that have not fitted into the confines of parish life.


I have a feeling that there is a connection between all these half understandings of the nature of ministry - but I can't quite articulate what I think it is. It has taken me over a week to not really finish this post...I'm certain that if the church (including me) cannot decide what we actually mean by ministry, we'll go on failing those people whom we are called to serve...


Ministry in a time of transition is no easier than anything else. Not being sure where we are going as Church, it's very hard to work out how best to get there...but I'm pretty certain that looking backwards over our shoulders is unlikely to work.

Which is a shame, as I do love being a parish priest...

Morning Prayer in the Garden.

Lord God, you draw us by your beauty
and transform us by your holiness;
let our worship echo all creation’s praise
and declare your glory to the nations;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Isn't that lovely? It's the prayer provided in the Common Worship psalter at the end of psalm 96, one of those set for today. Because we never used those prayers in my training parish, I've tended not to engage with them often myself - but as I prayed the Office on this perfect spring morning these words said all that I needed.

Maybe it's time to review my approach in this season of new beginnings.

Easter 3 Year C

One day, I may actually get the opportunity to engage with the text and write a whole sermon from scratch once more...This week, which looked so gentle, but turned to bite me on the bum, is not the week - so I'm thankful that I can re-work an oldie from my curacy, and hope it will pass muster.

Two weeks ago, when some of us gathered on Holy Saturday night for perhaps the most significant service of the whole liturgical year, we rejoiced in a baptism. For centuries all baptisms were reserved for this Vigil service. It was the pivot around which the whole year was structured - and so the readings from scripture for the Great Fifty Days between Easter and Pentecost were chosen to help the entire Christian community understand the meaning of their baptism and of their life in Christ. Those themes are still clear in the readings today. In the Common Worship service, as in the rites of the early church there is one specially striking question Do you turn to Christ? In the early church, candidates literally turned at this point from the west, the direction of sunset and their old way of life, towards the east…sun rise, a new dawn…That's what we're recalling when we turn to face east during the Creed…And since we recite the Creed Sunday by Sunday, we are given a weekly reminder of our own continued need to change direction.

Turning, repenting, changing our focus should be a daily activity for us- and it’s demonstrated in our readings by both Peter and Paul. Saul/Paul, after all, could be adopted as the patron saint for of all of us who've ever realised we were facing the wrong way. Having done everything in his power to suppress the strange new cult that seemed to be threatening the cherished traditions of his Jewish faith, he found himself confronted with unmistakeable evidence that he had got it all wrong...So he made a U turn, and set forth with equal zeal in precisely the opposite direction...Having recognised the error of his ways, he made the most of his second chance, and from his conversion flowed so much else.

For Peter, things were very different. We all believe that where there is life there's hope – but for Peter it seemed as if all hope was extinguished. What could he do but repent, alone at the end of a long Good Friday?

Poor Peter.

On one level, his feelings are a normal reaction to bereavement. After a death, survivors are gripped by all sorts of feelings, - grief, of course, relief possibly, but often guilt as well, no matter how unjustified, unreasonable or downright silly. My father was unable to eat at all in the last 2 weeks of his life – but after his death I beat myself up for some months because I had not, as I’d promised, made him some of the cheese scones he so much enjoyed. I would have loved to have been able to put the clock back…to cut short the exam revision and do some baking instead. It felt as if that would have made all the difference to my ability to cope with his death. Silly, I know. It wouldn’t have made any difference to anything…but grief is rarely rooted in common sense and guilt is so often part of the package.

Feelings rise in a tide that can threaten to engulf us even after a “Good death”. Suddenly, things seem to be irreversible and there are too often unresolved issues words unspoken and deeds regretted,

Small wonder that we’re prone to thinking

“If only I could have him back, just for long enough to put things right – then I’d be able to move on”

Just one more chance….

Usually, those guilty feelings are simply our reaction to our own survival in a world which someone beloved has left…but occasionally, there are real grounds for contrition.

And we can’t put the clock back. There are no more chances.

We can repent as much as we like but we can’t hear the words of forgiveness we seek from the lips that we long for. And that’s hard, very hard – even if there's actually little reason to reproach ourselves.


But of course, it was different for Peter, wasn’t it.

He had a genuine reason to beat himself up – reason enough to wallow in misery till the end of his days. He has let his best friend down and catastrophe has followed.

So we find him days, a week perhaps after that fateful Passover weekend, mired in guilt and regret.

He longs to put the clock back – but since he can’t, he decides to pretend that the whole Jesus event, this wonderfully exciting chapter of his life, never really happened.

It’s easy to imagine the disciples, sitting round in a dispirited huddle until suddenly Peter takes the initiative.

“Right. That’s it. The past is over. He’s not coming back. – so let’s get on with our real lives. I’m going fishing…”

The wheel has come full circle. Peter is heading back to the beginning. He had been called away from his accustomed business but now that his dreams have been shown to be delusions, where else can he go but back to the boats? Fishing is in his blood. It’s who he is. Peter the fisherman, back at his nets.

And the others join him.

The comfort of familiar things, familiar places….

Again, quite a common reaction to grief – a way of trying to pretend that recent events just haven’t happened, so we act as if we really can put the clocks back.

If the world is changing around you, clinging to the tried and trusted seems the best thing to do.

But even this comfort is denied the disciples…for a long cold night out on the lake nets precisely nothing.

If Peter needed any confirmation that the world has gone awry, this must surely have provided it.

He can’t even make it as a fisherman any longer.

Deep gloom.

And then, as in each of the resurrection appearances, Jesus is there, changing everything.

First, he recognises their situation.

“You have no fish, have you?”

Then he offers them a remedy.

“Put your net out on the other side. Change direction yourselves. It will make all the difference.”

Another U turn….and a fruitful one.

This time, having learned their lesson three years earlier, the disciples take his advice without demur, and are duly rewarded, not just with a bumper catch but with the sight of the One they most long to see.

But everything has changed after the resurrection – even Jesus! There’s something unrecognisably different about him. And so it’s as though he appears for the first time again. This is a new commissioning to a new ministry…

Here’s Peter, trapped between love and loyalty. It’s his love that makes him respond as he does,- impulsively leaping out of the boat to reach his Master as fast as he can. He’s always loved Jesus like that .But being ruled by his feelings he was also particularly vulnerable to his fears…It was those fears that spoke in the courtyard as he denied his Lord, and his own love for Jesus. Can you imagine the inner turmoil he’s been wrestling with? Not only did Jesus die, but he died believing (as far as Peter was concerned) that Peter did not love him.

John’s gospel doesn't tell us whether Peter has actually encountered the risen Jesus before this…Perhaps like Thomas he too had been away, missed out…or had hesitated, hidden among the press of disciples crowding round in the upper room, conscious of his own consuming shame.

If ever there was someone who needed to hear words of absolution, it’s Peter and in this new world of restoration and second chances Jesus offers him the chance to take back those words he wishes he had never said.

Three times he asks the question that has been tormenting Peter:

“Do you love me?”

Three denials balanced by three chances to affirm his love afresh, three opportunities for forgiveness.


In human terms, forgiveness is one thing but trust in quite another. After we’ve been let down, disappointed in a significant way, we may try to forgive but the reality for most of us is that mistrust and anxiety cloud the relationship from then on.

We may manage to get along on a superficial basis, but we’re unlikely to make ourselves truly vulnerable to someone who has let us down…

But with Jesus, things are rather different.

Peter is not just told

“There there, it doesn’t matter”

He is confirmed in his vocation as the rock on which the church will be built. He’s not to be a fisherman but a shepherd.

A new identity for him, as for Saul (turned from persecutor to apostle).A new certainty, for all of them, that they are now heading in the right direction, following the One who is way, truth and light.

To encounter the risen Christ is to be challenged, challenged and changed.

He forces us to reflect on our own direction, our practice of life and faith. Perhaps like Saul we’re side-tracked by legalism or by the fine print of observance, and have missed the living reality of Christ staring us in the face? Maybe we’re so intent on getting it “right” that we have forgotten why “it” exists at all?

Perhaps we’re conscious of failures and shortcomings, of lacking the courage of our convictions, of putting safety before radical love. But the message of Resurrection is that transformation is possible, if we can accept it.

We’re bound to fail, gloriously, ignobly, repeatedly.

But thanks to the transforming power of the resurrection, we mustn’t give up even on ourselves.

Do you turn to Christ? Do you accept the reality of his resurrection for yourself….because it happened to him so that it could happen, likewise, to the world.

Resurrection, never resuscitation. This is not a question of putting the clocks back and undoing the past,- but of moving with joyful confidence into a future beyond our imaginings.

And so by the grace of God we find ourselves at Eastertide gazing in wonder at a world made new, a world of grace and Life and Light.,a place of transformation. Easter Sunday is not just the first day of a new week: it is the dawn of a new creation and things can never be the same again.

And, in the light of that new dawn, Jesus invites us to come and eat with him.

Thanks be to God!

Pack your Bags Friday Five

I'm preparing to pack my bags for the Big Event Three, and as I gather what I need I'm thinking about just that: what do I *need* to take with me? As a person who likes to pack light, I worry that in the end I may underpack and wish I had other things with me.  I own the gigantor version of the bag to the right, but my morbid fear of having it go astray and not get to the ship means I'm more likely to try to pack it all in a carry-on bag instead, especially since I have a very tight connection on the way to the cruise. But won't I be sorry if I don't bring _______________?

Thus writes my dear friend Songbird, who is about to set forth on the third RevGals BE...Can it really be 2 years since we embarked on the first one? That seems incredible in itself, without the added realisation that I've not used my posh suitcase, brought for the event and with Serious Travelling in mind, even once since. Holidays on Polyphony are only notionally concerned with the contents of the suitcase...the boat is very much home from home, and every bit as scruffy as the vicarage on a bad Sunday night, so packing has a rather different feel. But there was so much hope and excitement represented when I purchased my lovely pink suitcase...so I couldn't bear to miss out on the game....Here are Songbird's questions.

1) Some fold, some roll and some simply fling into the bag. What's your technique for packing clothes?
Does anyone need to ask? Do I sound like a careful packer?? Everything is flung in as best I can, then I generally sit on the lot to ensure that extra things can be accommodated...Don't know what I'd do if I were ever to go somewhere where formal wear was required at it would undoubtedly arrive resembling a dishcloth collection (it could be a problem even at home, actually...the only hint of a professional wardrobe is the presence of clergy shirts, and some of those are t shirt type)

2) The tight regulations about carrying liquids on planes makes packing complicated. What might we find in your quart-size bag? Ever lose a liquid that was too big?
Contact lens fluid is the issue for me...Last time I flew I was only using glasses, but now I'm back to a contact lens there might be all sorts of  issues arising. I've always TRIED to travel light, though, so quantities of liquid have never been on the agenda.

3) What's something you can't imagine leaving at home?
My beloved Nokia N97. Sad, isn't it. Once upon a time I would have said a journal and pens...and they still matter but.........connection is all!

4) Do you have a bag with wheels?
Said pink suitcase does indeed have wheels...and I was v grateful as I negotiated my way across America 2 years ago..and even more grateful as we trekked towards the ferry terminal in New Orleans. I also have a smaller, overnight sized, wheelie case which my m-i-l gave me some years ago, clearly hoping that sensible luggage might have an impact on the relative sense of her son's wife. Bit of a failure, that...

5) What's your favorite reading material for a non-driving trip (plane, train, bus, ship)?
Pretty much anything! I love that there's no possible guilt-factor in spending the journey time reading, though I do fret about running out of print...Clearly books need to be light in weight, but not necessarily in content. Coming home from BE1 I read all the Ann Lamott's that NOLA airport could supply, as I knew they'd be harder to find here. I do read alarmingly fast, so it's hopeless to try and take enough reading matter with me...thus I prefer to take books I won't miss if I have to discard them in order to have something fresh to read later on the journey. Can't remember what I actually took with me when I headed out 2 years ago, but suspect I left it on the ship, whatever it was..I try to read an English language newspaper from the country I'm visiting too - the Times of India was a regular delight during my time there...

Work in progress

Another session with the Shiny Work Consultant yesterday.Conversation ranged far and wide around myriad aspects of parish life and clerical chaos theory.This hasn't been a great week for work/life balance here at the vicarage. First there was the discovery of a couple of impossible double-bookings, occasioned by my tendency to believe that I'll REMEMBER fun things that I really want to do (sadly no: I very nearly committed myself to conduct a baptism on a SATURDAY when I should have been at not one but two weddings...) and by the folly of thinking that I can even see straight during Holy Week, still less take hall bookings in a responsible way.

Learning points there: abandon attempts to handle hall bookings (which I only took on as a temporary measure almost a year ago now)...Once something is handed on, don't worry about the details of how it is done - it will almost certainly work out, though not necessarily as you've envisaged, and that's no bad thing.

Write everything down immediately if not sooner, in red if it's fun.

Though when I returned home from holiday there were several promising gaps in the diary, a wedding couple, a funeral and a hospital visit soon ensured that the space that I'd imagined using for thoughtful work on a few biggish projects soon dwindled to nothing.

Learning point: write in preparation time...It absolutely has to happen, and burning midnight oil is rarely a route to achieving the best

On Monday, a small group of clergybirds met in my sitting room to talk about Justin's book. We are all contemporaries in ministry, who recognised that when we finished the CME1-4 training and were launched as fully-fledged incumbents we would miss the regular contact which the monthly doses of curate training had ensured...We also worried that we might never read a serious book again, so planned a regular reading group. 2 years on, I think we have actually managed to read 4 or maybe even 5 books (let's see...there was "Blue like Jazz" (which we largely hated)  

"Take this Bread" (even split...I loved it but others were unimpressed...) "Tokens of Trust" (did we actually discuss this...or were we sidetracked by Life along the way?) 

"Velvet Elvis" (still great - though this was by no means my first reading of it) and this time "If you meet George Herbert....". It says alot about the way life spirals out of control that it proves so hard to actually read books that I have suggested, or to find time to discuss them with people whom I want to see...and it's not much consolation that it's just as hard for the others too. Symptoms, symptoms...

Hence our decision to read "If you meet..." Sooo much of the book resonated with our own experience...I'm still giggling ruefully about the train-spotting vicar who, when quizzed about his daily pilgrimage to the railway line said

"It's good to see one thing in the parish that I don't have to run" : sometimes this can feel so close to the truth.

BUT (sorry Justin) we could see ourselves using the book, with all its hard-won knowledge, as another weapon with which to beat ourselves. I loved the balance in the suggested Rule of Life but the thought of even trying to implement it myself filled me with a wholly unwelcome panic. Yes, I want time to read, time to study, time to write, time to grow - but not at the cost of relationships within these parishes...I can and will attempt at monthly reading day, but more than that simply wouldn't help me. And that's what it's about, isn't it...Finding a route to enable flourishing in every aspect of life...If it works, splendid...if not, put it down. Yes?

For the moment, I'm committed to  the SCP Rule  , which should keep me on track spiritually, and any addenda are likely to result in my throwing in the towel altogether.

That's what's so fabulous about Shiny WorkConsultant. She recognises the struggles and issues for ENFPs in any sort of planning, understands that I will always throw caution to the winds and timetables out the window if I think someone "needs me" (whatever that might mean) and is prepared to start where I am and help me find a route through, that I actually have a hope of taking.

So this time I've come home fired with enthusiasm for bright pink star shaped memos, writing "to do's" on red  paper, and encouraging the congregation to write in a notebook those things they'd like me to attend to. It's really not great to keep on washing reminders to "Pray for X" or "Visit Y" when the notes get left in a pocket after the Sunday Eucharist!

I might even try and manage the diary, at least a little bit. Next week includes 2 important bits of writing...perhaps I could factor them in to the planning now. How's that for revolution? 

Important PS I'm very aware that wise and wonderful friends have been saying all of this to me for months, if not years. Please don't think I've not heard your advice or tried to follow it...It just takes a very long time to turn round a liner, and your wisdom (some of which remains blutacked above the desk, beside my bed AND on the front door) is almost certainly the only reason I had the courage to ask Shiny Work Consultant for help at all.

Unconscious mutterings

I have zillions of photos of Holy Week and a good few of our gentle cruise up the Avon, which I really would like to post soon. One day I may even find time for some real blogging again - but for now, because it's Sunday, here's another installment of the procrastinators' delight......

1. Habit ::bad
2. Relaunch ::company
3. Mondays :: I don't like
4. Bootstrap ::pull up by
5. Funk ::blue
6. Appreciate ::assets
7. Yay! ::done it! (with reference to three months of expenses - oh the shame!)
8. Life :: class
9. Sheets ::blank
10. Date night ::Friday

Unconscious Mutterings again

1. Philanthropy :: Quaker
2. Said :: sung
   
3. Blanks :: fired
4. Tapas :: olives
5. Orgasm :: chocolate
6. Movement :: symphony
7. Detention :: centre
8. Restaurant :: universe (at the end of)
9. Weird :: sisters
   
10. Sniffle :: cold

Because I'm not convinced that Easter is really all it should be without Evensong, & this anthem....

One more piece of perfect Good Friday music....Crux Fidelis by John of Portugal

Homily for Good Friday at Church in the Valley

I wrote something like this last year, but in the event I didn't need to use it - so I preached it this afternoon. I'm pretty certain that I borrowed a chunk of it from elsewhere, - but cannot for the life of me remember where...so if you recognise your own words, my apologies for not thanking you by name, and my gratitude for kick starting my thoughts too.

Every year, the same question…what’s so good about Friday.

This year it was voiced by a 10 year old who had just finished the first 5 stations of the Experience Easter trail & was brimming with frustrated anger at the pain he had recognised in the 100s of post-its that were covering this cross

GOOD Friday? I don’t think so

It is a hard day for most of us.

Are you against capital punishment?

To-day we are forced to remember it.

Do you see Jesus as wholly innocent & good?

Today we remember his agonising death as a traitor

Do you trust that virtue is rewarded?

Today tells a different story..

And are you fearful of death?

Today we have to stare it in the face

But it is, nonetheless, Good Friday…and actually the truth of its goodness lies deep in the pain of the world, is recorded on each one of those post-its, that fell like autumn leaves around the cross.

Good Friday is the day when those who suffer find hope, because God is suffering with them.

God knows the suffering of those who could with integrity claim the "suffering servant" passages of Isaiah as their own story, those who might find themselves voicing the Psalms of lament as their own song.

God knows the suffering of the poor, the refugees and the displaced, of those who live in fear in occupied territories, of those who have lost their jobs, their homes, their self-confidence.

God knows the suffering of the hungry and the outcast, of the meek whom the world delights to trample on.

God knows the grief of the grieving, the pain of betrayal at the hands of those from whom you expected friendship.

God knows the anguish, the terrible loneliness of one who is suffering all of these things, - and even the desolation of feeling yourself abandoned by God.

God knows all of this pain, personally and profoundly, because God suffered it all in the person of Jesus.

Our Lord naked on the cross, vulnerable to insects and birds, to sun and wind, and to the cruellest of creatures, human beings whose humanity has been twisted by violence ...Our Lord hanging there is an icon to the poor, suffering, and vulnerable that says:

You are not abandoned.

The broken body of the Christ is not some garment that God tried on, didn't like, and tossed aside in favour of more festive Easter finery; it is an icon of who God is in God's eternal nature.

The risen Christ will forever bear the print of the nails.

God was and is and always will be, there with, at one with, suffering with, the suffering, the outcast, the poor.

At Christmas we celebrate Emmanuel, God with us.

Today as we look at the cross we see God with us again in all the pain & dereliction of broken human flesh.

And why is he there?

Not to appease a wrathful deity demanding recompense for sin.

Oh no…

God loved the world so much

Christ on the cross shows us that there is nothing, nothing that God will not do to show us we are loveable.

It was not the nails that held him there – it was love…love that, in just three days, showed itself to be stronger than death.

 

One day I will once again be part of a church that can sing these on Good Friday

Crucifixus etiam pro nobis - Lotti

Homily for Maundy Thursday

For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you.

A few weeks ago, The Herring of Christ (TM) and I were reflecting on the Last Supper...

Why, he wondered, was it the breaking of bread that became the Sacrament of Christ's presence for his followers?

Why did the church not place equal emphasis on the washing of feet?

After all, St John, from whose gospel our reading came tonight, doesn't even mention the breaking of bread at the Last Supper (it's there at an earlier feast - but not in this pivotal place on the night before the crucifixion)

So why, when Jesus told us to carry out both actions have we chosen simply to focus on bread and wine as the centrepiece of our devotions?

I suspect the reasons are many and complicated.Breaking and sharing bread, blessing and sharing wine was already an integral part of all formal Jewish meals.It wasn't a new ritual, or one restricted to the Passover - it was a completely natural practice for all of Jesus' disciples...but at the Last Supper it is invested with a new meaning. As so often, we have translation to thank for some of the confusion and suspicion that has been felt and voiced at the idea that we are consuming the body and blood of Christ...Listen to these words from Bosco Peters, a NZ priest who writes

"We regularly bring to our reading of the scriptures a Greek philosophical concept of a person being a “soul” – and “having” a body. Hebrew and Aramaic language regularly used “body” for “person” and .....identified “blood” with “life”. Jesus breaking bread and offering a cup of wine was saying: “this is me – my self and my life – I am giving you my self and my life – do this in remembrance of me.”

An amazing reality.

Christ's self, his life, entrusted to us in bread and wine...

Awe ful.

So, through the centuries the church, perhaps mindful that we seem to find it easier to worship the God we've not seen than the neighbour over the fence, has allowed us to focus on this mandate,

"Do this in remembrance of me"

And hoped we could take the other “you also should do as I have done for you” for granted.

The problem is that it seems much easier to care for others, to wash their feet, than to accept care ourselves

It's not so very surprising

Foot washing, you see, is intimate, embarassing....it makes us uncomfortable just thinking about it (remember how it made Peter feel, and it was part of everyday life for him!)It's always a struggle to find a collection of people willing to let their feet be washed in church, even just once a year.

Feet are rarely our most beautiful feature (no matter what the Bible tells us about the feet of those who preach good news) and we prefer to keep them safely hidden from view...

Perhaps we worry that taking off our shoes and revealing the corns, callouses and peeling nail varnish we may accidentally reveal other equally unsavoury aspects of ourselves....that the God we find unexpectedly kneeling at our feet may see us in all our vulnerability and muddle.

MAY see us?

Of course he does...He sees us, as he knows us, through and through...and as he sees us, he loves us.

As I took groups of children round the Experience Easter stations this year, it was the activity at the font that provoked the most thoughtful responses. We considered the title "Servant King", pondering how such contradictions might be joined in the person of Jesus. One small boy changed my understanding forever as he said

"Jesus understands exactly how it is to be anyone...it doesn't matter how different they  are,  what  they look like to other people...Jesus knows how it is because he has been there - from servant to king. He understands children and bullies too".

Jesus, in one action,  giving us not just a model for Christian life, but a glimpse of the heart of the God who knows us all inside out and loves us just the same....

George Herbert, priest and poet, grasped this when he wrote

LOVE bade me welcome; yet my soul drew back

Guilty of dust and sin

But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack

 From my first entrance in,

 Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning

If I lack'd anything.

'A guest,' I answer'd, 'worthy to be here:'

Love said, 'You shall be he.'

I, the unkind, ungrateful? Ah, my dear,

I cannot look on Thee.'

 Love took my hand and smiling did reply,

'Who made the eyes but I?'

Truth, Lord; but I have marr'd them: let my shame

Go where it doth deserve.'

'And know you not,' says Love, 'Who bore the blame?'

My dear, then I will serve.

'You must sit down,' says Love, 'and taste my meat.'

So I did sit and eat.

Let us celebrate that amazing love as we accept his gracious invitation to

“Take, eat...”

Images from our Taize Service

Displacement here we come!

I've just discovered the perfect game for those whose brains are in pieces as they contemplate the rigours of Holy Week
I encountered "Unconscious mutterings" via a twitter friend whose own blog name "Scatter Cushions" proclaims a being almost as divertable as I am myself. For a full explanation of the process see here but the idea is simple...first thoughts inspired by these words

1. Bow out ::retire
2. Relationships ::complex
3. Facebook ::status
4. Items ::missing
5. Ours ::not to reason why
6. Sting ::death (oh, I should get out more!)
7. Hangover :: no chance!
8. Contacts :: glasses
9. Lonely ::cloud
10. Seven days ::it'll all be over!

Hosanna!

We had such a lovely time this morning!
The miserable weather forecasts proved unfounded so we gathered at Valley Church school in bright spring sunshine and made a loud and joyful journey down the road to church, waving the flags that Messy Church had made and singing Hosanna! As is my wont, I'd not absolutely worked out all the teeniest details of quite how, so there were a few pieces of creative ad lib - but so much genuined celebration that I can't think anyone was too truly appalled.
We thought about the way in which "Hosanna" and "Crucify him!" constantly fight to have the loudest voices in our lives, ably led with cue-cards by E. & M., two of our lovely 1st Communion group; we sang all the essential hymns (at least to my way of thinking) and made Eucharist together.
Then, when all was done there, the Herring of Christ (tm) and I drove up the hill to do it all over again, - this time with a dramatised Passion and  the full Palm Sunday liturgy. This Holy Week is ludicrously full, ridiculously busy, and I love it...so very much!

Servant King

This year for the 4th time I'm welcoming children into a church that I serve to "Experience Easter"...The trail was devised, originally for Gloucester Diocese, by our excellent Children's Advisor & Primary Schools Advisor, both of whom are stunningly creative & inspiring women - so the stations in themselves are highly effective. However, what makes me rejoice as I walk them with group after group is the fresh light that the children shed on events that are so deeply embedded in me.

Yesterday we opened "Experience Easter 2010" with year 5 from Valley Church School and as usual I came home with much to ponder. Insight of the day came from A. as we considered our different understandings of "servant" and "king" and how those two roles could be combined in Jesus

"Jesus understands exactly how it is to be anyone...it doesn't matter how different they  are,  what  they look like to other people...Jesus knows how it is because he has been there - from servant to king. He understands children and bullies too".

I'll never sing that song again without this added layer of meaning.
Jesus, in one action,  giving us not just a model for Christian life, but a glimpse of the heart of the God who knows us all inside out.

Sermon for Passion Sunday yr C - Costly love

Today, as you probably know, is known as Passion Sunday...It's the day on which, in some churches, statues and crosses are veiled...the day on which we pass an invisible marker find that, like Jesus, our faces are now set firmly towards Jerusalem, and the drama that will unfold there.

So it's the day on which Passiontide begins – and passion is at the core of our gospel this morning. I wonder how that makes you feel, where you are in this story...With the disciples, Martha, and Lazarus looking on in confusion? With Mary herself? With Judas?

I wonder...

How does Mary's extravagant gesture make you feel? Embarassed and uncomfortable?

That would be quite reasonable, specially for us...After all, we Anglicans, with our love of the middle way, are sensible and prudent people on the whole.

We believe in moderation in all things, in wise husbandry of our resources, in fabric funds and planned giving.

We wouldn't want to see anything go to waste and we wouldn't ever want to make a scene, would we?

But, though prudence has its place, I'm not sure it belongs in our relationship with God. In this passage, it's the approach advocated by Judas.

“What a waste. Think of all the good you could have done if you'd sold that perfume, think how many lives you could have transformed”

Thanks to hindsight, its easy for us to reject everything that Judas says, but truth to tell, here his thoughs may well chime with our own. The needs of the world are huge and pressing and it seems wantonly thoughtless to simply squander a precious gift...think what a difference it could make in Haiti.

But that's not the message of today's passage. We remember Jesus saying “Whatever you do to the least of my little ones you do to me” but today our focus is direct action, an immediate heartfelt response to the reckless generosity that God heaps upon us.

Today, it seems, Mary has learned the lesson of grace – of God's costly love...the passion that will reach its fullest expression on the cross. Today Mary is our teacher .She recognizes, however imperfectly, both who Jesus is and who she is in relation to him.

Her discipleship is based on service, on the service of anointing that is both intimate, with its intense focus on hands, feet and hair, and public – the whole house filled with the scent of the oil.

In John's account of the Last Supper, just one chapter later, Jesus models the kingdom as he gets up,ties a towel around himself,fills a basin and washes the disciples' feet.That is what he wants his followers to do, but he doesn't just tell them, he shows them.Do as I say, he says, and do as I do.Mary, our teacher for today, anticipates that lesson beautifully, acting from her heart, responding to all that Jesus has been in her life.

Note, she anoints not his head, declaring him king, but his feet...an anointing reserved for the dead. Jesus recognises the truth of this and the prophetic message of that lavish gift. There will be nothing economical about his death, just as there has been nothing economical about his life.  In him, the extravagance of God's love is made flesh.  In him that love is poured out for the sake of the world.

The great hymn writer Isaac Watts surely recalled this scene when writing his wonderful hymn
“When I survey the wondrous cross” and made the connection between the outpouring of sorrow and love that is Christ's anointing at Calvary, and the perfume flowing over his feet at Bethany...May his words and Mary's example continue to inspire and challenge us as we reflect on our own response to the passion that Christ has for each of us.

Were the whole realm of nature mine

That were an offering far too small

Love so amazing, so divine,

Demands my soul, my life, my all.

Thinking about our mothers

Such a lovely morning

Enough people in both churches to make me feel hopeful, a goodly gaggle of children down in the valley and even a rather charming and utterly unexpected family up the hill

Space to be real about the pain that Mothering Sunday brings to many, without, I hope, making those who wanted to celebrate feel their joy was unwelcome.

The highlight for me was a prayer tree at church in the valley, on which we hung leaves bearing the names of all our mothers, regardless of whether the parent/child relationship had been a source of delight or of despair. 

I stopped off at valley church on my way home after my journey up the hill, and took a moment or two to read and pray through some of those names.

There they all were,the long-dead Mabels and Ednas who had mothered the grandmothers in my congregation today, the young mums whom I know well from the school gates, the Nigerian matriarch whose son brings his sons to church faithfully, week on week, my own mother, Joyce, and close beside  my own name, placed there by the Dufflepud...

I found the whole thing quite startlingly moving.

How many mums? an All Age Talk for Mothering Sunday Yr C

What day is it today?

I promise it's not a trick question...today, if you look at your Grapevine, is very firmly described as

Mothering Sunday

NOT Mothers' Day....because for us in church at least, though today is a day when we do celebrate and thank God for our mothers, we celebrate even more the huge army of people who mother us....

Our Old Testament reading highlights the truth that, in the words of an African proverb, it takes a village to raise a child, as it gives us a picture of the infant Moses receiving love, care and nurture from not one but three mother figures – and I'm confident that it's worked that way for most of us.Each one of us needs so much love, care and encouragement...and I know as a mum that though I do my best, my children would have a very raw deal if they relied only on me – but I know that I've shared in the real work of mothering with so many others, just as I received that sort of care from many different people besides the loving and loved woman who gave birth to me.

If I had to make a list I'd start with her right enough, but I'd add at least 3 other women who showed me huge love and care as I grew up, the parents of friends who supported me when my own parents died, teachers, men and women, who encouraged me and brought out the best in me, friends of my own age who took care that I wasn't alone at the traditional family times....And I'd need to mention lots of children – my own included – who've known when I might need a hug to help me feel better, or worked hard to make me smile...

So much mothering given and received, - and that's just how it should be.

Today can be difficult for many people.Some of us never knew our mothers, or lost them along time ago.Some of us have children who have disappointed us, or whom we have disappointed.Some of us longed for children but found that it didn't work out...or have suffered the awful pain of losing a much loved child.

Life is often messy, never perfect, - and families are just the same ...whatever the greetings card industry might like us to believe

But the message today is that family exists where people are loving towards one another – not just where there are mum, dad and children.

Our gospel reading shows us how that sort of family can be created...as Jesus asks his mother to look after his best friend, and that friend to look after his mother.

He knows that he won't be there to care for either of them but wants the best for both of them...so here, even while he's telling John that Mary is now HIS mum, and Mary that John is to be her son, it's mostly Jesus that does the mothering.

You see, you really don't have to be a woman, let alone a MOTHER, to share in that important work

It's something we can all do...

Jesus brings a new family to birth through his loving care and the family he establishes is the family that's here today...the Church.

In this family, we can and should share in the work of mothering...

That is what we celebrate today.

Mothering Sunday is about ALL those who mother us, women, men and children – those who care for us, who teach us and help us to grow. We go on needing people like that whether we're 5 or 50 so let's ask God to help us to share his work of mothering, of loving and caring for one another and let's make our church a true family where all are welcome.

Mothering Sunday Yr C - the "adult" version

There's an African proverb that, I believe, speaks a great truth

It says “It takes a village to raise a child”

In other words, in order to grow up balanced, healthy, secure we all need care from all sorts of different sources, - the extended family, the whole clan, rather than just the simple nuclear model of 2 parents and 2.4 children that we might imagine is the ideal today.

And today, as we celebrate MOTHERING it's good to remember that.

Mothering is never in any way confined to mothers, you see – it's something that we can all do – men, women and children...those who have had wonderful, loved and loving parents and those whose experience growing up was anything but positive.

When people think of today as “Mothers Day” it can be deeply painful.

So many of us have lost our mothers long ago, while others are estranged from them or struggle with disappointment in their children, or sadness that they have no children at all.

All of us, I'm sure, are conscious of the failings in our own relationships – and even if those are in reasonable repair,even on a good day I know that I'll never come up to the standards of those mothers celebrated by the greetings card industry.The enthusiastic paeons in favour of the perfect tv mother have always left me feeling decidedly guilty...so that, like many women whose experiences don't match ideals, I've been tempted to stay at home on Mothering Sunday.

But, fortunately for my children, mothering has never been the exclusive preserve of mothers, who, at our best, are only human...

This is something that is borne out by our lectionary today.

In the Old Testament reading we have not one but three women offering mothering to the infant Moses. In the Gospel, though there's but one mother, this isn't the soft focus celebration that belongs in the world of Hallmark cards and tv advertising.

It's strangely comforting that in this family sketch we see not a picture of smiling perfection but rather of a dying son, a bewildered friend and a mother whose heart is surely breaking.

Mary knew what it was to suffer, never doubt it...

From the moment she gave birth in a filthy stable far from home, through the refugee years in Egypt, to the days of Jesus's ministry, when her beloved son seemed to determined to cut his ties with her and to place himself at terrible risk...suffering was never far away.

And here at the foot of the cross those risks bring their inevitable reward and she suffers again as she watches her precious child, flesh of her flesh, in all the agony of his crucifixion.

I wonder if she recalled the prophetic words of Simeon

“This child is chosen by God for the rising and falling of many in Israel...to be a sign that many will oppose...and a sword will pierce your own soul also”.

This, right enough, is the moment of piercing.

Mary knows all too well what it is to be a grief stricken parent.

But in this tableau at Calvary there is one who is actually doing the mothering – ensuring the best possible outcome for those for whom he cares, those for whom he feels responsible.

Even as he hangs there, helpless, Jesus is taking care of those whom he loves.

Joseph has vanished from the gospels (there's no reference to him after the episode when Jesus is 12 and runs away to spend time in the Temple)so it's reasonable to assume that Mary is a widow – utterly dependent on her eldest son. With his death she will be defenceless...pushed to the forgotten fringes of society -so Jesus acts.

Woman, here is your son. Here is your mother.

A new family is created in the shadow of the cross – a family of those who've followed Jesus to the very end (the gospels refer to Jesus's brothers, but it's clear that they aren't among the disciples, that they aren't there to support Mary on the Friday we now call Good) a family based on love and care given and received.

And that family is the one gathered here today – the family we call the Church

As we celebrate the Eucharist together, sharing the body and blood of Christ, so we're continuing the work that Jesus began that day, the work of building a new community, a new family.

Within that family all are called to comfort one another

All to offer strength and support

All to encourage, to welcome and offer hospitality.

To love.

These are the hallmarks of the church – love, comfort, support and hospitality

These are the aspects of true mothering that we all need and that we can all give to one another.

There is no room for judgementalism, or closed-minds. This is no place to be exclusive or arrogant.

Though we often fail to live up to the ideal, it is still something we should strive for.

God calls us to be loving, open, forgiving – we must take this seriously – for if we do, then surely the Church will become irresistible.

The Church exists to reflect and to share the unconditional love of God, - and if we could but show this more effectively, then I suspect we'd replace worries about decline with queues of eager visitors, longing to share in that wonderful gift of grace.

But that's not easy...any more than the life of our everyday families is always easy.

The tableau at the foot of the cross suggests something else about family, that family exists where we make it .

We've all encountered families united by birth, blood, tradition, that are nonetheless completely dysfunctional...they don't operate as loving and supportive units at all.

Maybe it's just too costly.

Family means work. It should mean support and love and mutuality - but it also means effort.

True families don't just happen just because a group of people share a home and a surname – and equally, church families may fall apart...as our own larger Anglican family threatens to right now.

True families exist where people are loving towards one another...where they offer love, comfort, support and welcome.

And so this Mothering Sunday lets commit ourselves to being a real family...a community that affirms and welcomes those within and without and celebrates the nurturing mothering love that we can all share every day.

On NOT going it alone...

Reading yesterday's post on the plates I am juggling, Howard quite rightly picked me up on the absence of references to involving others, and the risks that this approach would present.

Believe me, I'm very well aware of these.

The treasured "golden age" in parish in the valley was during the ministry of my predecessor but one, during the 1990s. Church and culture were rather different then, and he and a succession of beloved curates seem to have presented between them an amalgum of the mythical omni-competent vicar (though, reassuringly, he was also a great one for losing his keys!). In the following years there was, if I've grasped the situation properly, a widening gulf between a congregation that hoped and believed that their priest would make things happen for them and clergy who came to ministry with other, quite different assumptions.

Somehow instead of acknowledging this and meeting in the middle, people subsided into inertia. There was a perhaps a sense of disappointment and lost initiative from both directions - and it seems to me that helping the congregation remember that they are all invited to join in with God's mission to love and serve our community is an important part of what I'm about.

It's not a speedy process, though there are many hopeful signs this year.

• My wonderful Reader colleague has just brought a long-held dream to birth in the form of a weekly "Drop In for Tea" session in the church hall (a regular booking ended just as she began to put the final arrangements in place, making the whole project infinitely more manageable)

• We've had a really positive response to a short course on  pastoral visiting, a team has been established, and just last weekend three fab members of church in the valley gave up their Saturday to attend a really excellent CME event on Baptism.

• The recent joint PCC away day was another landmark - with some wonderfully honest and self-aware comments from both church councils, and lots of hope for the future.

• A relatively new member of the congregation turns out to have deep and wide experience of enabling prayer - just as the PCC in the valley identified raising the profile of prayer as a priority for the coming year

So I'm really sorry if I sound as if I'm on my own with all this. There are some wonderful people and, as the induction service made very clear, whatever we're doing here, we need to do it together.

Seeing the wood for the trees

Today was my first session with the rather fantastic work consultant that I have somehow been blessed with (I still find it very hard to believe either that  
a) I managed to ask for help or
b) that she happened to have space and time to take me on)

I talked an awful lot as I outlined the journey so far and tried to give her a sense of the landscape of my life and ministry...In true ENFP I didn't realise some of it til I heard myself speak it aloud - but that was good and useful.
I talked about the energy needed and expended in frantic plate juggling and together we identified some of those plates

• Sunday worship - with a special focus on my longing to pull the liturgy together and to build a children's choir at Church in the Valley
• Messy Church
• Schools work - assemblies, governor work, pastoral support, "being there"
• Occasional offices - with the wealth of extra opportunities that they present but also the equivalent volume of extra work
• Trying hard to be a "good enough" training incumbent in a situation that is so utterly unlike my own experience of curacy
• Working towards our community project, to connect assorted agencies with those in the parish who most need access to them
• Youth work - building on the embryonic Youth Emmaus group but looking for ways to continue their nurture beyond Confirmation
• follow on work with our First Communion group
• building pastoral relationships with care homes, sheltered housing, individuals...those beyond the Sunday congregation
• shedloads of awful awful admin - the stuff of open churchyards, busy wedding lists, and non-existent parish office staff

I failed to mention spiritual direction, diocesan synod and Board of Education, deanery pastoral committee etc etc but just trying to identify the headline concerns made it abundantly clear that the feeling that sometimes it is all way too much for one person is actually quite justified!

Even rather fantastic work consultants can't make things vanish just like that, though it's possible that she may persuade me to let go of some of them....but she wisely suggested nothing of the sort today! Instead she asked me, interestingly, which thing I felt I most "had" to do, and which one I most "wanted" to do.
The answer to both?
Messy Church!

Over the next few months, I guess we'll work out how to arrange plates, put them down safely, hand over the juggling poles to other people...It's going to be interesting, I think, but a huge blessing to have someone wise and wonderful to wade through the tides with me.

Things I love...

clearly include dotty old ladies.

Since moving parishes - nearly 2 years ago now - I've been sadly deprived of them, and had actually forgotten what a delight they can be.

However, a couple of weeks ago I had a phone-call from the new manager of a care home housed in the one-time vicarage in the valley. Would it be possible for me to hold a service of Holy Communion for the residents once a month?

My wonderful Reader colleague was already visiting a couple of the residents with Home Communion, but there had been requests from residents and families for a proper celebration...so along I trundled this afternoon, fresh from Evensong at church on the hill.

Divine inspiration persuaded me to remain in my cassock, which was clearly exactly the right thing to do - now I not only purported to be the vicar, I even looked like one. 

All good.

The congregation were the usual mixture of completely switched on 

(KF "Who should we pray for today?" R., a very spry 98, "The government - though they may be past help!")

and distinctly confused.

Highlights of the afternoon included an impromptu exposition of assorted theologies of Eucharist, - inspired when one lady looked at the Sacrament as I placed it in her hand and asked in complete, but brisk bafflement

"What on earth is THAT?"

First I tried"It's Holy Communion"

No result.

A neighbour tried to be helpful...

"Holy bread"

Complete blank.

"It's Jesus"

"Oh HIM. I met him once before..."

Nobody was up to moving around, so it seemed to take ages sharing the Peace but I wouldn't have missed that for anything. Hands that trembled, hands that hung on as if they'd not been touched for years, frail hands, arthritic hands...but all so responsive to my touch and each one a blessing to me.

My confused lady was not the only one who left her wafer untouched on her lap - but for all that, I'm certain that each of us was touched by God at the depths of our beings this afternoon.

And I get to go back once a month - and to call this work!
Thanks be to God.