Christmas - over

I am sorry my daily blog never really got going this year. December turned out to be extremely busy and er, Christmas sort of took over.

We've reached the end of Christmas really. We have eaten so much rich food, finishing it up as we have tried to do tonight has been a challenge. There is only so much mackerel pate you can take let alone mince pies and chocolates! We've sung our last carol today at Messy Church. We are Christmased out.

But we forget at our peril the length of the Christmas season, it runs until February 2nd, the feast of Candlemas. I didn't put any decorations up until Christmas Eve to people's amazement. I will take them down on January 6th apart from a nativity set which will remain in my lounge until the end of the season. I remember sharing a funeral with the vicar in our united church in Heighington near Darlington some years ago in the middle of January. He lit the Christmas candle and reminded people that Christ who came on earth is still on earth in mid January in the gloom and despondency and pain of life. I have never forgotten that. We act as though he comes and then we put him away with the glitter until next year rather than remembering the stable and all of that is merely the introduction to the story of God on earth permanently.

I am beginning to ponder 2017 - a huge year for me as I marry the love of my life in just over two months, an unexpected blessing and joy despite it feeling huge and a little scary. We've had a lovely first Christmas together sorting what will be our home here, including transforming my kitchen cupboards where nothing is logically placed anywhere into OUR kitchen! The saucepans are now near the oven, and the mugs are near the kettle and random rubbish has been binned. Other people are sensing 2017 might be diffcult, with the implications of Brexit and a move towards isolationism rather than community and the shuddering thought of President Trump. We need to remember our resources and our faith more than ever. The light shines in the darkness and the darkness cannot put it out. God's love is steadfast. Read Psalm 136 for fun! Og, King of  Bashan is smited. A mountain falls on his head according to legend. We act as though God is not enough and we are not enough. We need to be more confident in him and in ourselves. Sunday's Gospel reminds us he dwells among us not just as long as mince pies are in season, but for always.

So, yes, I am confused and unsure of the day of the week but as the year ends and another opens I am trying to step out assured all will be well.
I wish it could be Christmas every day? Well, no more rich food but more confidence I am not alone. I will settle for that.                    

Blogging through Advent - Providing space for people...

I love this poster. I spotted it in one of our rural chapels yesterday. Clearly there has been a problem with noise while others wanted to prepare for worship quietly.  

Everyone needs people to shut up and be quiet sometimes and everyone needs space for quiet contemplation or to come together for a celebration. I've seen both today in an amazing busy day but one of the loveliest days I've had recently in my work here. 

In our morning service some twelve hours now, we thought about John the Baptist ranting to people to create space, to think again about God's intervention. I suggested he is an interruption to our Christmas planning but a necessary one. He confronts us about repentance and resetting of life. It was good to preach a fiery prophetic sermon and use some Jim Wallis in my service. I love Jim Wallis. You might like to read this article he wrote reflecting on the new world of American politics: 

www.sojo.net/articles/advent-2016-not-normal-not-now-not-come

This afternoon I was privileged to lead the local hospice Lights of Love service at St Mary's Church in Ninfield. St Michael's Hospice is an important place in this area and holds several of these services at the same time today. The church was full and afterwards everyone placed stars on a Christmas tree outside our Methodist chapel before it was lit for the season. It was good to give people space to remember, grieve and celebrate loved ones that have died. My words were appreciated by many. 

I then arrived at an amazing party at my largest church where we had invited the community and our own church family to an event which involved Messy Church activities, loads of food, a little talk on angels by me and then a carol and Christmas music singalong. The place was buzzing when I walked in and the atmosphere created by a gathering of all ages having fun and working together was very special. People were given space to celebrate with others. New friends were made and everyone left feeling good. 

Finally I went to my village chapel in Pett to lead a very quiet Taize Service in candlelight. The chants were very special tonight and I led some reflections about taking time to see the light of Christ in between them. The candlelight was very peaceful and lovely until I missed my footing coming out of the pulpit and managed narrowly to miss a music stand in front of me and staggered about like I was worse for wear! 

I think today has shown me we need to offer people space to remember the story. It can be done in different ways. I love my work here so much because of its diversity. Even if I am shattered now, it has been a very special day. 

Blogging through Advent - being seen by those passing by...

It's very easy to be a holy huddle when you live on planet church. We are comfortable in our cosiness and safety and in doing what we know. It's very easy to think heaven is inside a church building and looks like 1950. The whole point of incarnation and second coming is that heaven touches earth, that God comes into the world as it is and transforms it. Christianity is all about getting involved and meeting people where they are, else it isn't really Christianity, is it? 

Tonight I've been to support the folk of Sackville Road Methodist Church in Bexhill Town Centre open for two hours as Bexhill's lights were switched on for Christmas. They were serving free tea and coffee and mince pies. It was good to stand on the steps, despite it being freezing, to chat to people passing by and getting off the bus (Sackville Road's bus stop is right outside the church.) It was good to see the church open and people coming in. We are as a Circuit trying to encourage churches to get their doors open far more. I have also been after this tonight to plan Messy Church with my Rye congregation.  As church is freezing, as our property man doesn't enjoy resetting the timer for the heating for odd meetings, we meet to plan Messy Church with a coffee in the coffee shop of the local cinema. We don't hide what we are doing and we are known by the folk there. I encourage church meetings to be held on secular premises far more. 

We forget that Jesus came into the world where ordinary people were, in filth, squalor, a refugee, an asylum seeker, a person who grew to understand real life and will come again to bring his Kingdom where we are. Some people are very reticient to do church outside or be seen by the world, or even interact with anything but their church inner life and think that church will grow by people magically just turning up. We need to get out there! It is fun if you are brave enough to try it.

God who came in Jesus outside,  encourage us to leave our comfort zone and see what you are doing in the world.  May we have good conversations, be welcoming, be patient and listen and yes, sometimes be ignored. Help us to be dirty and messy and not to give glib answers to difficult questions. God of the church, may your church be brave and relevant. 1950 was a good year I guess, but it has little to do with today and it is today you need to be met by people. Lead us out to be surprised. Amen.   

      

Blogging through Advent - Journeying

Mary and Joseph are setting out tonight on their journey to Christmas, staying overnight in twenty four places around our church family at Calvert beginning with me tonight. I took them to local preachers meeting and they survived!!

I always ponder reading the story of a heavily pregnant and frightened Mary and an exhausted mentally and physically Joseph that journeying can be hard. And even the destination might not be easy!  

I am shattered after working a ten hour day today, driving over 80 miles from my home this morning to Rye for coffee and carols, which turned out not to be the easiest of mornings for me. Then I had via a quick stop for lunch bought in a Co-op at Polegate, a drive to Chyngton near Seaford for a supervision session with the Assistant Chair, Rose, who I will miss very much when she moves on next summer. Then I drove to a layby to watch the sun set over the sea below me and then drove to a pub for some dinner as it was daft to drive home and come out again as I was nearer my evening meeting venue then going home and coming out again. Finally I have journied to the preachers meeting at Battle which was a good meeting. Now after a long day I have journeying home, to deal with phone calls and e-mails and post and the debris in my house before I go to bed.

I like to blog and journal my day and to pray it through towards the end of a day's journey of life. What highs and lows, joys and sorrows have there been? What do I celebrate the journey today has brought and what do I want to forget (about an hour of this morning actually!) I wonder what Mary and Joseph were thinking as they journied slowly into uncertainty? We shall enjoy them travelling round our church folk for the next few weeks. I hope as people receive them they will think about their journey and their own journey and what it brings for them. Every journey is different. I wonder if we are aware God travels with us on each one and helps us through the difficult bits and always surprises us on the way.

Joseph looks very tubby doesn't he? A long walk might help him lose some weight!

God of journeys, thank you for the holy family who journeyed into the unknown with pregnancy, poverty and unpredictability real issues for them. 

Be with us when we face trouble. Assure us this Advent we are never alone. Amen.        

Blogging through Advent - reacting to light

The colours in the evenings just before dusk have been amazing recently. I took this from the car tonight driving into Hastings from Rye - awesome over the sea in the distance. 

Sometimes you have to react to colour.  Last night, after I wrote my blog post, the lights on my car dashboard started to flash as I tried to turn the key in the ignition. There was no way the car was going to start. The flashing lights including a large STOP sign meant I had to take notice of them. An hour or so later waiting for the RAC man, I was on my way with a new battery. 

There is a hymn by Michaela Youngson in our hymn book which talks about making the colours sing. Who are the people who give us light today? I take some time tonight to give thanks for them. I give thanks too for times like this orange vista when the colour of life invades the drabness, and I give thanks for the RAC man who got me moving, and the warmth of Sainsbury's where I sat waiting as it was bitter outside. Thank God I broke down in their car park! 

Light of Christ, you come into the world with brightness and colour and we are called to react to you. Shine on us today. Amen. 

Blogging through Advent - reflecting on my Monday

It is amazing how often I am drawn to this place. A day off sorting out my mother and time with Lis at the end of which I found be myself heading for evening prayer in the cathedral at Peterborough in search of quiet and peace and space for prayers of thanksgiving. There is a huge Advent procession later tonight and the cathedral was in darkness when I arrived. A steward very abruptly said "can I help you? as though I wasn't welcome. He was stopped by my friendly security man who told him I was there for evening prayer tonight being held in the apse chapel - pictured.

Owing to a busy evening ahead I was the only one at the prayers. I found it strangely powerful to say the responses on my own in that space looking down the dark nave towards the stained glass lit by the Christmas lights outside the west door. The lovely security man asked me after what it was like to have my own personal service! It was good to find God speaking in my own quiet space: to hear words of personal care for me right now. I offered prayers of exasperation over my mother whose future is uncertain; prayers of joy about my relationship with Lis and our marriage next year in that awesome space and her coming into my life and some prayers for focus and energy as I am swamped by services and stuff these next few weeks. It was lovely to walk down the cathedral afterwards with Canon Tim who thanked me for coming.

I guess I am commending during Advent we all try and find some space. Go off on your own and let God speak. I had a cathedral to myself. But it can be done anywhere.

Blogging through Advent - Advent Sunday - the right time...

I will endeavour through Advent, most days, to write a reflection and a prayer for people to use similar to my sabbatical prayer writing time. 

This morning at church it was a real joy to receive Olivia and Shane by confirmation. In our service we thought about waiting. Here are my thoughts shared with my folk this morning about waiting and God's right time...

I was in Hastings town centre on Friday afternoon, the Friday before Advent. It felt like the Friday before Christmas!  It was of course Black Friday. I only went in Smiths for a ream of paper. Chaos. It is not Christmas Sunday today, it is Advent Sunday!

Lauren, the lovely girl who cuts what little hair I have left off every five weeks said to me she “hates Christmas as she just puts on so much weight as biscuits just appear” and then “I bet you are busy now it is Christmas!” (Implying I do nothing for eleven months of the year…)  It is not Christmas Sunday today, it is Advent Sunday!

I went on the pier after my hair cut – the colours on Friday night of the sky were glorious but my peace was cut short as I walked past one of those little huts which had “I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus” followed by “The First Nowell” blasting out. It is not Christmas Sunday today, it is Advent Sunday!

I then went in Morrisons. It was worse in there. Aled Jones’s “Walking in the air” I said to the girl on the till “you got to put with this for over a month?” It is not Christmas Sunday today, it is Advent Sunday!

Two Advent attitudes for us to think about maybe.

The first is to wait. To wait for God to come at God’s right time.

We are not good at waiting. If you ever come with me in my car on a journey, I am dreadful when there is a queue and I am in a hurry. I am a stickler for being early – my father used to make us go home if we were late somewhere and I hate being late. So I shout at the traffic jam “COME ON” – it makes no difference at all, I know. We hate waiting for trains or buses or hospital appointments or parcels.   

Life is a journey, and there is God’s right time. Today is the right time for Cyril and Brenda and Barbara to formally join us. Today is the right time for Shane and Olivia to be confirmed. There are moments in life when everything just falls into place and obstacles are removed and we just have to go for it. I know about that at the moment. I appear to be getting married! That is a huge surprise to me still because I never expected to be where I am today and I thank you for the kind messages since I got back from Holy Island on Monday. Proposing on a beach is bad for your knees, believe me! It feels the right time, previously another relationship would not have been the right time at all. God knows the right time and his purposes for us will be revealed. No one believed he would come as a child. No one knows the day or the hour when he in Jesus will come again, but he will. It is part of our faith. The Advent journey is about listening for God, waiting for him, not expecting the ordinary but discerning what God might be up to next. Isaiah saw something of it in his vision. Matthew saw the world being shaken one day.

We are seeing it in the churches I serve here – our premises are being revolutionised for more effective mission in 2017, St Helens are very happy in their new home and are growing, Pett and Rye are discovering Messy Church is great fun having had a go at it, and Rye are worshipping ecumenically in a morning more and more with other churches and are finding that liberating. All the decisions we are making are being put into practice at the right time.

I commended Shane and Olivia not to be frightened to wait on God and listen for his work in their life at the right time. Preparation time prayer time, discerning time is vital to really get it when it happens.    

          

The great Advent book The Coming of God, by Maria Boulding says it all for us:

“Advent is the consecration of waiting in our lives. Human life is full of waiting; people wait for trains and buses and planes; they stand in queues in shops; they sit nervously in dentists’ waiting rooms; they wait in anguish for news of loved ones. They wait for the slow process of healing to take its time; they wait for the birth of a child. Waiting can be very different in these different situations, according to our attitude. In an age of “instant” products, any delay can be viewed as negative, for “time is money.” Yet some things cannot be skimped or hurried; we have to let them take the time they need. You can’t make the grass grow by pulling it, as the proverb wisely warns… Faith can demand long, patient waiting when nothing seems to be happening, and this is necessary to growth. The waiting changes us, schools us, teaches us to know God.”   

I think the waiting  and the call to be ready reminds us that this is God’s story, his plan, and his promises. He is in control, and he will take this story wherever he pleases. And it reminds us, slaps us in the face at times, that we’re not the centre of the story. It’s not about us, and things don’t always (often!) go the way we’d like. Two confirmations and three transfers of membership remind us that today God still is at work and he is always ahead of us.

Today is not  Christmas Sunday –thank God. I’m not ready!

Let’s have a holy and happy Advent first, shall we?   

God of the right time, thank you for those moments when you just turn up and remind us that the present moment can be transformed. 

Thank you today for Advent and a journey to wonder and to explore your ways.

Help us to wait for you, and to be open enough to be moved beyond words at what you are up to. And may Christmas and its pressure just well... wait.

Amen.  

     

Piglet and Pooh at Communion

If only life could be like Piglet and Pooh, simple friendship, trust, reliance, respect, glad the other is there!

Then we have the news…  Perhaps even we have stopped reacting to things.

That last terrorist act of murdering an elderly priest while a dozen people in rural France were at mass was especially horrific. I’ve received today a letter from the police passed down through the Methodist channels on how to make worship safer and more secure. If the day comes when we cannot be open to everyone, then we shut our doors for ever. But there is a lot of fear out there.  

We shared a communion service tonight at my church in Hastings, and we spent some time reflecting on connected-ness and breakdown of relationships.  

Nadia Bolz Weber is an amazingly quirky priest in America. She does some reflecting on the Lord’s Prayer which is about community:  

"Our Father, who art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, may thy undoing of our ways and the in-breaking of your ways – the way things really are—appear before our eyes. Brother Martin Luther reminds us that your kingdom comes with or without our asking for it but it in this prayer we ask that your dominion, your kingdom come among us. But right now, God, right now we think we might just skip over the asking for it and move right to the begging for it if that’s ok with you.

We beg you to bring more than just a small measure of heaven to earth because this place is a mess. Lord, your people are killing each other and the vulnerable are even more vulnerable and the wealthy are even more wealthy and we’ve developed weapons that do unspeakable things and we’ve developed economic systems than rely on those weapons continuing to be made and protected and it’s hard to see a way out, Lord. So, we need your Kingdom to speed the hell up. And if that’s not possible then open our eyes to where your kingdom already is taking root and growing among us, turn our eyes from our despair to any amount of light your kingdom is spreading, however small."

I find that quote, like every Nadia quote, very powerful. I cannot change the world tonight, but I can try to be different in my bit of it, in my relationships, in my churches, in where I walk. I am not anyone important, but if I can help somebody feel loved and wanted and valued, then I have shown God perhaps and that feels good. 

It felt powerful and right in the context of madness in the world at the moment to break bread tonight and be reminded of Jesus who was broken for us and to pray for those who don't get what is happening and are broken by their own circumstances. That is the call of the Church, not to argue over buildings and other trifling nonsense... (controversial corner there!)

I chose to end the worship tonight with the communion hymn by Bernadette Farrell. I love her work. Jesus broken as bread is broken gives hope for the world, even today. I hold on to that, very tightly when there are so many uncertainties. 

 Bread of life, hope of the world, Jesus Christ, our brother; feed us now, give us life, lead us to one another.

 As we proclaim your death as we recall your life,
We remember your promise to return again.

The bread we break and share was scattered once as grain:
Just as now it is gathered, make your people one.

We eat this living bread, we drink this saving cup:
Sign of hope in our broken world, source of lasting  love.

Hold us in unity, in love for all to see;
That the world may believe in you, God of all who live.

You are the bread of peace, you are the wine of joy,
Broken now for your people, poured in endless love.

My sabbatical blog 14 - enduring community

So my sabbatical is over, looking forward to 2022 or probably 2023 already!!! It was overwhelming to come back, the house felt very empty on Thursday evening and the last two days have been overwhelming with the warmth of the welcome back into my own communities. At St Helens yesterday someone said "you are not just our minister, you are our friend." At Calvert this morning I was welcomed at the start of the service like this "welcome home!" I have found it very moving to return to a community that perhaps values me as me more than I know...

I left Shetland on Tuesday evening and got extremely emotional as the ship sailed away. The Shetland community for a while became part of me, and took me to its heart and it was very hard to leave. I have found not just there but in Edinburgh, in Blackpool, in returning to former churches, in meeting new people, in sharing in new and exciting projects, some very small, that community is alive and where it is alive life flourishes. I was glad to end this time with some worship in Peterborough Cathedral which was six weeks ago an important stopping place and was again so on Wednesday. I return from sabbatical not the person who began it three and a bit months ago, professionally, spiritually and personally. The sabbatical was planned meticulously but being open to be surprised in so many ways led it to be even greater than I ever imagined. 

So what is community? Respect, listening, valuing, learning, being open to the other, holding on to what is good from the past but not being frightened to let the past go and embrace new things, spending time voicing our hurt and our pain (as in many evensongs I have loved), and celebrating that life is so much more fulfilling when we share it with others (even introverts like me see that!)

In church terms we used a hymn in Baltasound last Sunday and I used it this morning back in Hastings which really speaks to me about a faith community:

The Church is wherever God's people are praising,

knowing they're wanted and loved by their Lord.

The Church is wherever Christ's followers are trying

to live and to share out the good news of God.

The Church is wherever God's people are loving,

where all are forgiven and start once again,

where all are accepted, whatever their background,

whatever their past and whatever their pain.

The Church is wherever God's people are seeking

to reach out and touch folk wherever they are --

conveying the Gospel, its joy and its comfort,

to challenge, refresh, and excite and inspire.

The Church is wherever God's people are praising,

knowing we're wanted and loved by our Lord.

The Church is where we as Christ's followers are trying

to live and to share the good news of God.    

In a world that while I have been on this journey has gone mad and has broken down, we need to be interconnected far more. And as for me, well, this final picture perhaps says everything. I shared a cabin on the ship from Lerwick to Aberdeen with two loud snorers! I could stand it no more by 3am so got up and stood alone on the deck of the ship to watch the sun rise. God has spoken in this time to me - I feel less worried and less pressured about things even though I have come back to busyness and issues. I am open to see where I am led next. I am open to see what new possibilities might be emerging. Most of all, I thank God for this time and all of the lovely people who have made it so great and have journeyed with me. 

I wrote this prayer towards the end of last week:

God of journeys thank you for all the things you show us if we are brave enough to set out.

Thank you for your presence in sunshine and rain, in blue skies and in thick fog when we can't see the road.

Thank you for conversations on the way, people who share their story, for faithful church communities and retreat houses I have shared with these weeks, from Edinburgh to Holy Island, from Blackpool to Shetland and other expressions of church in my home town I was brave enough to try. And thank you for places I travelled through in the past who welcomed me back and are part of my story, Harpenden, Oakham and Empingham and Mossley and its wonderful Whit Friday fun and excitement!

Thank you for surprises on the way I never expected, new beginnings and new possibilities. For love and trust.

Thank you for the promise of your care on the journey home on boats, in cars, and on trains. Thank you for the promise when things ahead feel a bit scary as I am out of control to accept they will be good and thank you when I reach home over 800 miles away of the promise of a welcome back! Give my churches patience as they cope with my frazzled brain as I adapt over the first few weeks...

God of journeys help me to trust, to believe, to worry less and embrace your invitation to find joy more. I will never forget this time - I am not the same as I set out.

Now I simply rest in your presence and see what you have, not in my script for me next!
Amen.

   

  

My sabbatical blog 13 - Close Knit Community

Welcome to my penultimate sabbatical blog written on Shetland. There will be one more written to reflect on this whole journey, written probably on Sunday. I have lots in my head to ponder, let alone thinking about returning to work!

I've just driven back to Lerwick from Unst via Yell in horrendous fog. It is a two and a half hour journey including two ferries. This morning I hit the rush hour and it was interesting to watch people whose daily work includes ferry travel as the norm. There were some very big lorries on the Unst to Yell ferry with me at 9.45 and a long queue. On Sunday night at 9pm coming back to Unst from Yell I was the only one on the ferry.



So, my last few days here have been sharing with the folk of the North Isles, Yell and Unst. I moved from Lerwick to Haroldswick on Saturday. I stayed in a very strange place called Saxa Vord - which used to be the naval base which spied on Russia in the Cold War. I stayed in what would have been a naval family house and ate in the officers mess. As the fog swirled on Sunday and this morning, it felt quite an odd place to be. There was no mobile phone signal unless you had the phone in a certain place on the bedside table and didn't move it! Or went to a bus stop to talk... How we rely on our phones!



I was really glad to share in three lovely acts of worship on Sunday. In the morning, I joined the congregation of St John's in Baltasound to receive from the wonderful David Cooper, who featured in the Island Parish programme. He was fantastic, holding everyone's attention with a long but highly entertaining yet very deep sermon on the Good Samaritan, and not a note of paper. We went from Origen's allegory of the parable, to Martin Luther King, to Gladstone on the Armenian refugee crisis in Victorian times to his thoughts on the food banks and the referendum! There were about 40 there, including Sister Mary Martin who also featured on the programme who has built and lives in her own hermitage. It was a delight to receive good quality worship.  We also sang some deep theology from the wonderful Church Hymnary 4 hymn book which is a lovely book I should dip into more.

On Sunday afternoon, I led worship in the most northerly church in Britain at Haroldswick.



We had had a debate over what time to have the service in the week, and concluded 3pm would be best as they could get an organist then. I arrived to find the organist wasn't coming as she had a cough. So, we had to improvise. I got them to choose their favourite hymns instead of what I had picked, and they sang them unaccompanied in parts which was very moving. We had a very deep time of worship together. The congregation included four people on holiday and the afternoon is one of my highlights of being here. I felt very honoured to lead worship as far north as Methodism gets in the Connexion. It was good to read the Conference statement about national life in that context. I also noticed several pictures and artefacts there from the most southern church in Britain on Jersey and I sent a picture to the Superintendent minister there.



Then I had fun! I was due on Yell on Sunday evening to speak at a Christian Aid service which the local folk were leading themselves. I got the ferry from Unst in quite bad fog, crossed onto Yell, and the fog became very bad indeed. I drove very slowly and eventually after about 45 minutes of careful driving found the chapel. I'd been there en route north the day before for their Christian Aid tea - see picture above- an amazing spread - but fog makes certainties very uncertain and I wasn't sure I would see the chapel in the murk. But I got there and we had perhaps the liveliest time of worship in my five weeks here. The service was led by the local congregation, including a singing group and a really enthusiastic organist called Beattie who played from a tonic sol fa music book. They sang hymns out of Sankey's Sacred Songs and Solos - a book I've not used since Markyate Sisterhood as a lay worker every Thursday! I preached on the need to be interconnected and the challenge to be community and was well received. I was told I must come back and to keep in touch. Another huge amount of food followed. But I left quite quickly as the fog looked like it was worsening.



I got over to Unst then I have never driven through worse fog ever and arrived back very shaken...  I guess people who live here adapt to sudden changes in the weather. As I thought about how I felt on Sunday night, I wonder what winter is like here and how people cope. I guess they just cope!




I have enjoyed while being on Unst eating in the Final Checkout - an amazing cafe come community shop where the whole island seems to gather and catch up. I paid my bill on Sunday lunchtime, I was in a shirt and tie. The man said "you're the man whose come to take the service at the Methodist, aren't you?!" The only non local about, I guess! There is a clear deep reliance on one another in a small community. Unst felt very isolated to me, perhaps too isolated for me despite my love of rural work. It was an education to visit the community centre and look at the posters - Avril does hair there on a Thursday etc!



With little mobile phone signal, no computer, no television, and no newspapers I could find, Unst also felt cut off from the rest of the world, even the Shetland mainland. I arrived yesterday at the Heritage Centre. I had had BBC Radio Scotland on in the car. They were discussing the Tory party leadership contest and who might win it. I told them we have a new Prime Minister! The whole political scene has changed beyond recognition while I have been on these islands, hardly reported here. The local paper is more interested in what liner is in port this week....  

I am now waiting to continue my journey tonight as the boat for Aberdeen leaves at 7pm. It is very foggy and very windy so it might be fun. I am trying to get my head round the fact I am leaving these beautiful and peace filled islands in a few hours, who have made me so welcome, blessed me beyond measure, and have a place in my heart now. I will come back one day...

My sabbatical blog 12 - A pastoral community

I am about to begin my last few days here which feels strange. I've been here over a month now and it will be very hard to leave. But there are special things ahead on the journey and I am, despite feeling very wobbly about returning to work after three months away, looking forward to seeing everyone again. They have some interesting things for me in my last week here planned. I move up to Unst on Saturday for my last three days, which will include staying in a massive house on my own, leading worship in the most northerly church in the country and then sharing in an evening cafe service and celebration on Sunday night. I am beginning to get my head round the journey back. I seriously underplayed the fatigue I felt after getting here - a week on Tuesday will involve a ferry from Unst to Yell, a ferry from Yell to the mainland, an hour's drive back to Lerwick, twelve and a half hours on a ship to Aberdeen, seven hours on a train, an overnight stop and a lovely evening planned which will be very special, then the next day being taken to pick up my car which is at my Mum's, then a drive round the M25 and down to Hastings. I might surface a week on Friday for an evening meeting!!! Folk will have to be patient with me as the pace here has been very slow, and I've got used to it. But I am soon to leave it and return to some sort of normality but I return a different person. More of that in my last reflections I suspect next week!

I've been to three different services since the last blog post a week ago. The District here held a super farewell evening for the outgoing Chair, Jeremy Dare at Lerwick Methodist Church last Monday. He has clearly had an amazing pastoral ministry here and will be missed, although he and his wife Sheila are staying on Shetland, setting up home on Yell. The District turned out in large numbers to say thank you - we had a good time of worship together, preceded by an enormous buffet. There were about 120 in a tiny hall and the food was served up in an even tinier kitchen. They then got more food out after the service! It was good to be included almost as a temporary member of the team here and I enjoyed the evening chatting to people. It was great to sit next to the Rev David Cooper, who is a Methodist minister serving in a Church of Scotland appointment on Unst, who was one of the people on the recent BBC Island Parish programme. He was great fun and as quirky as he came across on the television! The organist at Lerwick who is very elderly, played "I cannot tell why he whom angels worship" very slowly. David turned to me when we finished singing and said "at last!!" Then he disappeared for the ferry. Unst is a long way north, you forget how big these islands are. I have been shocked how tired I've been after a day's work on a Sunday. I didn't get out of bed today until 3pm!!




I have tried to work out this week what the focus of the church is here. I am conscious the Methodist Conference is meeting as I write this and will churn out more policy and priorities for us to follow - how we are God's people effectively for the 21st century. I made the point to my District Chair about the pressures of Superintendency before my sabbatical that with more and more procedural stuff and legal stuff and mission stuff some of which my context can't cope with, I am in danger of becoming more and more detached from the pastoral needs of my communities. I've not heard mission mentioned once here. The main focus seems to be pastoral care and nurture of small communities. The Chair clearly has been an exceptional pastoral visitor, driving miles each week to visit people in remote places. I have asked myself what my emphasis would be if I were stationed here. Some people have this week spoken with me about the church and numbers waning. Apart from in Lerwick and in Scalloway and perhaps two or three others there are no new people coming. Several of the Methodist societies have closed, some still open are only open because of a few coming to them still. The church at Sandness which I visited a week yesterday is open because two people have a holiday home there and keep coming. Others are only open when people are not away. They chat together and when everyone is on holiday or out, they cancel the service. It transpires the church I sat outside a few weeks ago now worship in the community centre. There was no sign on the church to tell me that, nor was that in the listings in the Friday Shetland Times. I mentioned it to someone, and laughed that in this week's Shetland Times it now says "Gruting (Community Centre)"! A lesson for us when we assume no one might be coming and don't put a notice out when there is a change. A new Superintendent arrives here at the end of next month and the pressure on him is high - people are waiting to see what he will do. I cannot for some of these places see much future. The emphasis is on pastoral care rather than mission and outreach.



I lead worship yesterday morning at Vidlin, a fantastic setting for a chapel. There were twelve there, and we had a good time. I used the Conference service liturgy and tried to link them with what was happening in London. They were quite responsive, and we had I think a helpful hour. Coffee followed, only four stopped though. They shared with me their problem that in a growing community in recent years (300 live in Vidlin) and having an active primary school at the other end of the harbour, they have tried things like Messy Church and holiday clubs to no avail. The minister is only seen once a plan, they have a fortnightly service only, two of them a plan are local arrangements. The other Sunday in between they go up a very windy road to Lunna Kirk, where there are six at most. It has been suggested the two churches merge. The Kirk people went mad even though their building is unaccessible in winter, but it is an important part of Shetland history so cannot close. I had a good morning in Vidlin, including a lovely lunch with Pearl Johnson who led a holiday club with me 20 years ago and it was good to spend time with her. My first taste of rhubarb cheesecake!

Last night I decided to change denominations and take the ferry over to Bressay and join the Church of Scotland congregation there for their 6.15 service. I was stared at as I opened the door at 6.14, having been on the phone to someone right up to the door so I was very last minute. Three ladies sat there. A tune book was thrust into my hand without a word. The vicar, the excellent Rev Dr Caroline Lockerbie told us this was her third service of the day. She led us in a thoughtful theological exposition of being a neighbour. It was very deep, I did lose her when she drifted onto original sin and Calvin but it was good to be led and be stretched. The seats in a Church of Scotland church are quite bizarre. As I found at St Giles in Edinburgh, you sit at the sides, the pulpit faces the front. The vicar last night was behind the organ and a flowerpot so I couldn't see her. It was very strange. Everyone seemed overwhelmed a visitor had come. They were very friendly afterwards but it showed me how hard it is for people to come into church cold. Sometimes small dying communities have lost any expectation that someone might come and their facial expression can be negative! Again I learnt in the Church of Scotland several of the clergy here are retiring soon, with no one to replace them, and something has to give.




The emphasis in every service I have sat in and every conversation I have had here about the nature of church is it is keeping people inside it aware of God's love for them and looking after them pastorally. Apart from ministry to tourists off boats in Lerwick and the excellent Friday cafe at Walls and I think the church I end in at East Yell who are quite go ahead, I see no going out at all happening. Back home we have emphasized new ideas and mission, and perhaps - I say perhaps - I have in my programme and my time neglected being alongside people, being too busy sorting safeguarding and supervision and falling down garages and charity commissioners, and statistical returns... I came into ministry to be with people and offer them worship and prayer and care and a reminder of God's love. Plenty to ponder!  The Ordination Service which many will have experienced at Conference yesterday includes a phrase that always makes me shudder: "let no one suffer at your neglect." Can the Church really pile on more and more pressure on its ministers?? I intend now to be far more chilled out and to look after myself and those close to me far more, while still working hard. I have never felt this well and it has to continue. I am determined it will!

I've also had many helpful conversations this week with people about what it is like to live here.
Issues have come out like:

• While my pink sky pictures are lovely and I find huge peace standing in the light at midnight, the winter here is no fun when it hardly gets light at all, and many people suffer from depression. 
• Young people find it hard to get work here and many have to leave to go to the mainland of the UK for study and long term work. Some don't cope with being away from here at all and soon come back. There is a huge project here called "Mind Your Head" encouraging people to talk about how they feel when they feel lonely and then back here unemployed and directionless. 
• Older people here don't do change AT ALL! Hence holding on to traditions and ways of life that perhaps now don't work. The Church of Scotland last week held a meeting to discuss merging three churches closing Scalloway and Weisdale and meeting in the middle of them at Tingwall. Apparently there was blood and no decisions were made! 
• It is cripplingly expensive to get off the island. I was speaking to a Mum whose daughter is at university in Newcastle. It costs over £4000 a time to take a car on the boat and have a cabin and then fill the car with petrol. 
• The vote on the EU will affect lots of people who work here from across the continent. One of the bar staff in the hotel comes from Bulgaria and is returning there to start a business next week. He told me he's been here two years and with the dip in the pound will take home less money than he had hoped. 
• Shetland needs to keep its tourism industry developing, as that now is its main source of income. The place has felt like part of Scandinavia really to me, not part of the UK at all. 

I continue to enjoy taking some amazing pictures. I have learnt my lesson from the other day though - got a bit soaked taking this one!!

  

My sabbatical blog 11 - keeping community together

So here we are at the end of week three of my amazing stay in these islands... which continue to surprise me, for good and bad. I love this picture, it was taken very late at night, around midnight and it speaks to me of calm and peace.

It's been a strange week emotionally. I have to admit I am still recovering from the referendum result, but now less the result but the aftermath... Reports of some vile racist attacks in parts of the country, people rejoicing they "have their country back" but not really knowing what that means, intolerance of those "different" to us, a political leadership in disarray, as Prime Ministers resign, and the opposition party is in meltdown, Scotland going more and more near to a second referendum vote, talk of a United Ireland, and some people who voted to leave the EU now saying they didn't REALLY want to leave it was just a protest vote, and now we seem to have a soon to be Brexit government stalling on when we start the process of leaving while the EU want us to go and go now. Meanwhile the financial markets are in a bit of a mess. One commentator said on Saturday "we have gone through a door and we don't know what is on the other side..."

It has been really interesting being part of the aftermath here. The hotel bar on Thursday was full of very affluent Brexit supporters talking in my view, in love, nonsense, while getting more and more squiffy on Pinot Grigio! I couldn't face them on Friday, so apart from walking round town in a daze a couple of times, I stayed in my room with my own thoughts! It's been really helpful to talk to Jane, who is one of the hospitality team here and loves to chat! She was very uncomfortable on Thursday night  She was very uncomfortable on Thursday night as they tried to hound her about her political views and politics here. She tried to tell them the staff are not meant to discuss politics or religion! She told me later Shetland (which voted remain ) aren't really interested in what is happening in London. Their local MP and MEP are voted back each time regardless of party, because they live here and care about here and do a good job for here. The referendum was barely mentioned on the news, nor in the papers afterwards, and she did share with me a lot of the hotel chain staff here are from Europe and are now deeply worried.

I guess all of this and my ongoing reflections on what builds and what breaks community have led me to ask how life changes when you have someone else you care for or have responsibility for or who are part of your world. We can all be selfish and think of our own needs. It takes time, energy and commitment to include someone else in your thoughts and care. But the fear of isolationism and intolerance out there is almost unbearable to think about, and surely even though it takes some effort, working at community and being with others will make life more whole and lovely, won't it? 

Sorry, this is quite serious this week!  I keep thinking of John Donne and those words "no man is an island" - seems some of us want to be, and to have those who might enhance the island not really be here. It has been quite powerful this weekend here in Lerwick as the Shetland to Bergen yacht race has been happening, to sit in cafes and on benches with people from Norway and Denmark and Iceland. The town changed on Saturday and felt more part of northern Europe than it did the UK. 

Very interesting. 

I had a conversation the other day about young people here. There is little work for the younger generation apart from the oil industry or fishing or perhaps inheriting a croft. Many have to leave the islands for work, and find that very difficult and get extremely homesick. Getting on and off the island is very expensive. Some parts of Shetland haven't changed at all and older Shetlanders do not do change. It will be interesting to come back again in another 20 years. 

I continue to reflect on the nature of being a faith community here. I've experienced three acts of worship this week. I got out of bed on Wednesday morning and shared morning prayer with three others at St Magnus Church - I returned for night prayer the next night as advertised, but no one showed up, which was a pity. They do seem to cancel things here without telling the outside world! There seems little concept people from outside their own little group might just turn up. How we treat people coming into church for the first time really does matter. If we are going to cancel something at least put a notice up to say it is cancelled! 

Yesterday morning, I drove about 30 mikes into the remote west of the mainland which is REALLY remote - to see what it is like to drop in cold to a small chapel in the middle of nowhere! So I arrived in Sandness.  

It took me ages to find the Methodist Church, I drove up to two other churches first!  I walked in to discover a large curtain across the middle and a lady appeared from behind the curtain, the steward, amazed I had come! The congregation was three plus me in the end, none of who lived anywhere near the place, two of them had come from Lerwick, like me. The preacher was not the most inspiring in the world and it felt a long hour. There was one of those dreadful overhead heaters on by me and it got hotter and hotter, so I was relieved when we got to the notices and she said "service in two weeks but can't remember who it is" and then "anyone else hot? Shall we turn the heater off?"! The two in front of me went to sleep, the steward opposite me kept staring out of the window, and I did find it hard to worship. I did my own thing half way through despite the preacher keeping going, but she wasn't really on our wavelength and it felt just hard going. And again, I came away, despite the four people there with me being very friendly before and afterwards asking what the church's presence really is for.

Last night, I was planned to lead the service at Westerskeld church, a lovely refurbished one room building I found the other day in preparation for my visit last night. There were eight in the congregation. Again, like the three other remote chapels I have visited so far, they were lovely, very gentle people, but unresponsive during the worship, and frankly, they looked bored. It was another very long hour and I was taking the service! I tried humour, chattiness, a visual aid for prayer, I got nothing back. I am not saying they DIDN'T get anything from the service, perhaps they did, but none of them gave me any feedback apart from thank you for coming. At the beginning I asked Betty, the steward, who was very difficult to understand with a very broad Shetland accent, if I just started or whether she welcomed folk. It was 5.55. She said "You may as well start, we are all here that's coming." Before the service when I asked how many of them there will be she bemoaned how awful it is that people "cannot be bothered to come" anymore. She also shared with me when the minister at Scalloway retires in 2017 there is talk there will be one minister for the whole of the islands. But I wonder what the minister does all day here? What's on the Church Council agenda? Again, good faithful loyal people who drove all of them to get there last night, but what was it about, and does every preacher leave feeling absolutely mentally drained?!! 

I continue to have to be adaptable up here! The only constant is that the winter coat is still in my case! Indeed, I've not worn my jacket much either! My last Sunday here has started to worry me as I am planned in the North Isles, and they keep changing my itinerary. I was told this morning to do the trip from Lerwick to Unst with two ferries and back is a three and a half hour round trip. I have decided to alter my hotel booking for my last few days and move to Unst for my last four days here. I left the reception in the hotel here investigating possibilities for me up there. That will make life much easier no matter what time they decide to hold their services!! 

The hotel I am in for a month are beginning to chat to me a lot now. I feel like the Major on Fawlty Towers! I shared this morning I am writing a book about community and am reflecting on a lot of stuff about how we live, work and do God together. It's rather nice to be asked on a Monday how Sunday went! Jane this morning said she was telling her husband about this minister who is in who is er hum,.. "nice and gentle and very reserved." Then she started telling me about how she is reserved and cannot do confrontation and there was a major row amongst the staff last week and she threatened to hand in her notice and her manager told her she was not the guilty party and should not back down and she was not going anywhere because she is so good with the guests...! Community breaks down anywhere! Quite why she thought she would tell me this Lord along knows...   

 As I said, you have to be adaptable here all the time! 

My sabbatical blog 10 - Unpredictable community!!!

I am learning that life here in the Shetland Islands after two weeks here is ever unpredictable! I rushed out of the hotel on Saturday night about 11pm with my camera to capture the simmer dim as they call it here. Unbelievable pink skies and calm on the water. Two weeks in the winter coat is still in the case! 

I am also learning every day that things that are advertised to happen may not necessarily happen or can be changed. It is very laid back here!! My service on July 3rd was an evening and is now a morning, and my morning service on July 10th is now an afternoon and my afternoon service is now an evening! Yesterday afternoon I looked at the Circuit plan and took a drive out to a remote chapel at Gruting, where it told me there was a 3pm service.

The chapel took some finding!! I arrived at 2.55pm and no one was there. Around me were some sheep and a goat but no people. The chapel was locked, no sign of any service happening. I hung around for about 20 minutes until I decided they had obviously decided to cancel the service with no expectation this mad visiting minister might drive 20 miles to be with them! I had a fun time getting away as Mr Goat and my sheep friends found my being there very interesting and came to say hello!!

I managed on the way back from my not happening service to find a chapel I preached in here 20 years ago - Culswick Methodist Chapel is the smallest and most remote chapel here. There is absolutely nothing round it at all. It is in a field which you get to up a stone track. I was pleased to see the church was open. I checked when it last had a service - 5th June - the money from the offertory that Sunday was still in the plate on the communion table. I was glad to be able to sit in the quietness of a very remote place for a while and feel its peace. I have questions though what churches like Gruting and Culswick are for - holding occasional services, no one living near them, cancelling them when the three or four folk who come can't come. Are they just part of history or are they still signposts to the presence of God? What makes the tiny numbers who go there still go there and where do they come from? I would imagine those who come come through some family connection and want to keep "their chapel" open. I hope to try Gruting another Sunday afternoon to see what dropping in feels like. I may next time ring the steward to check the service is on!!

It was really good yesterday to lead worship in a bigger church with folk sharing the worship leading with me. Adam Clarke Memorial Church has a congregation of around 60 - including visitors yesterday from Ghana, Swansea, the Wirral and Norway! They were a very happy friendly bunch who made me very welcome. There was a superb worship band who led part of the service for us and we used a hymn from Singing the Faith they had learnt for me. Am getting my head round four different hymn books here! The church's main mission it seems to me is to tourists. Through the week, some huge liners come to the port for the day full of tourists who come off the liner in a little boat and then are put on shuttle buses to come to the town and wander around with maps. The church opens every time there is a large ship or holiday cruise in town. We are told in the headlines on the local radio which ship is coming and where it is from. Apparently the other night, the Danish royal yacht was here before setting off to the Faroe Islands! Lerwick Methodist Church seems to me to be a very close fellowship and fun to be part of. The Chair of the District retires next week and I've been invited to his farewell meal and service. The Chair of the Scotland District will look after Shetland from September to save Methodism money as the Chair has to go to meetings off the island and it costs a fortune to keep going away. The manager of the hotel I am staying in told me Nicola Sturgeon was staying the other week and there was a huge lobby to her to get North Link Ferries to reduce their prices. 

From September there will be a Superintendent Minister on Shetland. 

      

I am also enjoying still discovering other bits of community outside church and what makes life tick here... There was a huge midsummer carnival on Saturday with floats surrounded by men dressed as vikings shouting a lot. Last night I was glad to be at another fiddler's concert - a really talented group who play regularly at the Edinburgh Military Tattoo. 

The group was called Hjaltibonhoga - translated as "Shetland - my spiritual home."

I am very much seeing that deep spirituality here in remote places, in tiny chapels, in supportive and close community as people enjoy being here. It's interesting to read about the referendum up here. There are some Brexit posters largely about protecting our fish - but mostly the local press is going for remain - largely because Shetland does not really see itself as part of Scotland, but more a part of Europe. Thursday will be interesting!

It's been another good week. Three to go... Am so chilled out and relaxed - returning to a busy diary might be a bit of a challenge!!!   

           

       

        

My sabbatical blog 9: Slow lovely quality of community...

The beginning of my second week here and I've discovered the library! I've just been into the church next door where I am leading worship on Sunday to give in my readings and check my hymn numbers. Church is open today again as another huge liner is here - this time from Norway. I've only been here a week and am so relaxed and chilled out I am wondering how long it will take me to adapt to Circuit life back home again. I am sure the lovely folk down there are storing up stuff for me. I actually got some texts and messages from people attending my Circuit Meeting last night. The comments were sent in fun, but I was shocked how unsettled they made me. My life (apart from contacting people I chose to be in relationship with away from here) is here for another month and Hastings and stuff hadn't entered my brain until last night.

I continue to be deeply moved by the quality of life and community here. Shetland has not apparently had a week of weather like this for years. It is much windier today and very bracing but the sun is still shining and the sky is blue. It's interesting to eavesdrop on conversations in the hotel dining room from people who have never been here before. A very posh couple arrived on the boat yesterday. He told his wife he had put the place they wanted to go to, the most southerly point of the mainland, Sumburgh Head in the sat nav so they wouldn't get lost. I don't think he quite got there is one major road north to south! It reminded me of that great Father Ted line of Craggy Island in a storm: "they have taken the road in!"

I sat on this glorious beach on Monday until I started to burn. For a time there was just me on it, and I used the space to thank God for so much at the moment. When we find a spot like this there is a peace beyond all understanding. I love this picture of a boat on a sea that was like a lake, the stillness of space that calms our souls and lifts our spirits. I will return to this theme on Sunday in my worship in Lerwick, next door to where I am writing this as the readings are about Elijah having a meltdown in a cave and Jesus freeing Legion from mental distress. I didn't come here in a state, I was tired and ready for this wonderful gift but as I keep writing, it has given me far far more than I could ever hope for. The reading on Sunday ends with Jesus saying to Legion "go home and tell people what the Lord has done." I hope to do that with people but that is not yet apart to those of you reading these thoughts. I get to choose my favourite hymn on Sunday and it seems right to choose it in this peaceful place: which includes this verse:
"Drop thy still dews of quietness til all our strivings cease,
Take from our souls the strain and stress,
And let our ordered lives confess, the beauty of thy peace."
The greatest verse of any hymn ever written!




People seem to really enjoy living here and there is a depth of community together. On Monday night I had a lovely evening out at something called Shetland Showcase, a series of concerts through the summer in the local community centre. The first half each week gives children "the bairns" performing experience as they learn the fiddle together; the second half each week is a quality music act - this week the Shetland Fiddlers Society. It was really infectious fun stuff that left you smiling. I was very interested in the stories they shared about each piece they performed. All were written in a distinct community here and some on different islands. Each community would have had its own fiddle group and dancing evenings. You didn't mix with other communities as the only way to get there would be by boat. Communities here often through adversity support one another and it is very attractive....





               

My sabbatical blog 8 - Overwhelmed by community

To those of you who don't follow me on Facebook welcome to the sunny blue skies and very warm Shetland Islands. I bought a winter coat in St Albans before I left Mums - it's still in the case! I write this on the warmest day of the year here so far. 

I have only been here seven days and have a whole month to go but am already very comfortable here with some lovely gracious people who keep thanking me for coming to help them and by the very slow pace of life. I find myself at moments getting very overwhelmed - it is a huge thing for me to be here, I've waited a long time for these weeks and already my visit here has surpassed my expectations. I never dreamt I would need sun cream!!! 

Why is life sometimes overwhelming when you connect with things or people that remind you of a bigger picture and that suddenly you matter? I got the goosebumps inside me seeing the magnificence of God in nature here again as I saw my first vista leaving Lerwick for an explore. It's a good job that there are plenty of lay-bys to view the pretty bits as you drive round. I keep saying out loud "oh wow!" as I see a new sight or one I remember from 20 years ago. The other "oh wow" thing here is it doesn't get dark at this time of year. It isn't easy to sleep and you wake up not knowing what time it is. I sat outside the other night at gone midnight reading my book. 

The Methodist Church here have made me very welcome. It was good to have lunch last Wednesday with Jeremy Dare, the Chair of District here. He retires at the end of the month and they will miss him. He is retiring to Yell so staying around as he loves it here though will hide for a bit to enable his successor to settle. I have been given six services to take over the five Sundays I am here, all will be very different. In the weeks ahead I will write about them here. One Sunday involves taking two ferries and another has me with no organist but someone on the recorder and I am rediscovering the joy of the 1933 Methodist Hymn Book!

On Sunday I had an overwhelming time leading worship in the little chapel at Whiteness. I led a holiday club in the church when I was last here - a glorious setting. 11 ladies were there on Sunday - mostly on the back pew! I said to the steward before the service how many will there be - she said "there are those that are here, and those that are here but not here." I asked her if she was going to welcome me. She said "no - they all know you've come!" I had forgotten how exhausting leading every bit of the service yourself is. I haven't read the notices out or done my own readings for years! I had also forgotten that you get very little response during worship. One lady didn't sing a note of any hymn and in the prayers when I said "Lord in your mercy" there was no "hear our prayer"  back! They didn't hang around afterwards - shook my hand at the door and said thank you but there was no fellowship time - all of them have driven there. Two of them when I was getting my books afterwards told me it had been  refreshing and a different angle and beautifully delivered. I wondered what the morning did to them. Clearly coming to the chapel mattered to them as part of their story and way of life but it cannot be there for ever. I found myself preaching without referring to my notes and being much more pastoral and less mission orientated in my message. What is the mission of a remote place like Whiteness? I preached on finding God loves you wherever you are and it being a surprise sometimes how that love is expressed. I am in these weeks in even more remote places so will continue to reflect on the purpose of presence here.

I had another overwhelming time returning on Friday to Walls where I was on placement while last here. I walked round the harbour and there was no one about. I went into the chapel which has a community cafe every Friday all through the year. The place was packed so clearly the whole community was on there- all ages, elderly folk, mums collecting children from the nursery, people out walking on holiday. The food was all homemade and cheap - the menu on the table said - to enable everyone to come and share. The place was buzzing. Community eating together especially in village halls on Sunday afternoons for teas is a huge thing here bringing isolated communities together. It was lovely to spend an hour with these folk - I learnt a soft roll is a local softie and I discovered what restit soup is!!

Before I came up here I had a lovely Sunday. On the Sunday morning I was in London and went to Marylebone Parish Church which was a wonderful hour and a half of spine chilling worship in a church with a strong choral tradition. The Gloria lasted ten minutes and I found myself being lifted up spiritually in it. The silence after it was very powerful. Sometimes our worship is too wordy, too rushed and no space to reflect on the message we have either just heard or read or sung or have heard sung. Stanley Hauerwas in one of his books suggests worship is about reminding ourselves that God is God and we are not, first - and after we have remembered that only, we celebrate this God is bothered with us and we can come to him. The mass was done to a piece of music by Weber. The service sheet helpfully gave me information on the music being used. He wrote "the singers are Italians, so never too secure, therefore everything should be as singable as possible: the alto is a dog!" Can't imagine lovely Stephen Page in the choir I sing in back home write that in notes of his compositions! The preacher was excellent - he reminded us in a deeply honest sermon that sometimes new life springs up and at first there is confusion and fear because we are not expecting it and we don't deserve it and it feels audacious! Not been preached to with a message for me and where I was that Sunday for a very long time. So, I am glad I walked along the Euston and Marylebone Road to encounter a special place.

That same afternoon I got on a train and headed for Peterborough (as you do) and a huge few hours which I will not go into here. But we did evensong at Peterborough Cathedral which was just overwhelming again. Apparently I said "wow" out loud as we entered the building. Sitting in the choir stalls I was aware again of the vastness of God and this need in me which I have found in these weeks to immerse myself in God far more. If you do this more there is a breathing in and a deep peace beyond words - the current in word is mindfulness - and when you are less frazzled and less church busy you have time to see what blessings are there and you might find new ones! Please readers of this back home in my CIrcuit remind me I wrote this in September!!! Again in this service sung and said holy place for centuries we got the rawness of the Psalter: Psalm 44: in God we boast all the day long and praise thy name for ever. Fab stuff. And done together as I have written before. Was a real privilege  and also to be given a private tour afterwards including to Catherine of Aragon under the floor!

So one week in - was it worth a journey to London, a 8am train from Kings Cross to Edinburgh, another train to Aberdeen, which was delayed as it needed oil (!) a 12 and a half hour boat trip up and down a bit as the sea was rough - amazingly though a few hours after getting here the skies cleared and have been blue or in the wee small hours at 3am pink and sometimes orange. Was it worth it? While I feel far away from people (relief the mobile signal works) you bet it was. This is proving to be one of the most fulfilling times of my life... And there is still a month to go.