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.

My sabbatical blog 7: Needing Community

I have spent this last week at my Mum's - the longest I have stayed with her in 22 years!

Last Sunday I was privileged to lead two acts of worship at High Street Methodist Church in Harpenden, one of the largest Methodist churches in the Connexion. I wanted to see how a large church is a community. High Street when I was on the Circuit staff as a lay worker from 1991 to 1994 was very high, largely down to the minister then who used to make us stand for the Gospel! In recent times there was a parallel service held at the same time - a contemporary service with a worship band in a fully refurbished hall and a traditional service with a robed choir and an anthem in the church.The  current minister, as the contemporary service has outgrown the hall has altered things so they now have a contrmporary service at 9.15 then coffee then a traditional service at 12 in the same space with coffee in the middle. It is not a model I am familiar with, so I was glad to play with it and see how it felt. 

The 9.15 service was led by a very competent worship leader and an excellent band. I preached and presided, with no written liturgy over a very informal communion with stations, which worked well. I knew none of the songs and wondered whether they were really congregational but got swept away with then as the band led them though. The band had an excellent soloist and violinist. I enjoyed the worship - it was much less noisy and less out of my comfort zone than I expected. I knew very few of the congregation - it was younger. 

With the communion we finished at 10.30 and after greeting people I grabbed a coffee in the great Wesley's coffee shop. I think I had one conversation then found the steward for the morning tell me it was 10.55 and five minutes to the next service! I went to the vestry and put my robes on as this was a more formal service and prayed with a choir - a very large robed choir - in the choir vestry before processing in. I used to get very nervous preaching at High Street - a rare treat for those of us who came from the villages!! The procession in was the worst bit! The second service went well - an older  - in the main - congregation: my nursery school teacher was there for goodness sake!! I did a sheet with written responses which was appreciated and preached from the pulpit which was appreciated and took the opportunity to try some big hymns. The choir had learnt the set tune to Best of all is God is with us and I taught them the lovely Iona hymn the love of God comes close. We ended with the seven verse wonder of Wesleyan theology : let earth and heaven agree. I had a good time but admitted mid way though the second service I was shattered! I am not sure whether the model got its best out of me. I was apparently seven and a half minutes longer sermon wise in service number 2!

I wanted to discover whether with diverse needs you keep a large church together. There seemed to me two very distinct congregations. How do you hold all the needs of people in worship together? Or don't you? And if there are two distinct congregations how do all views and inputs contribute to the life of the church? What's membership of the Church council like? A friend told me she hasn't seen people who go to the second service for ages as for family reasons she goes to the first one. I had a good time and everyone was very gracious - I went into church on Tuesday and people were talking about my services and when could I come again. I went away knowing I'm not called to minister to a large church though !! 

High Street though got me thinking this week about having our needs met in worship. I still have the Anglican evensong and evening prayer bug. I've not had the easiest week but in other ways something has happened this week which has changed so much for the better (!!!!) How do we bring our needs and all of life into worship? I've done four evening services this week at 5pm - one at the Parish Church in Harpenden with three of us there and one choral evensong and two evening prayers at St Albans Abbey.

The Psalter this week has invited us to bring our deepest needs even unhealthy thoughts into worship. On Monday a glorious choir from the royal school of church music sang a fabulous setting of Psalm 136 : his glory endures for ever! Og, the king of Basan has born smited! See Numbers 21! Then last night, again after a difficult day I heard Psalm 141: a wish for enemies to fall into their nets as we avoid their dainties and pass by in safety. I sat there thinking how important it is to bring what you need into worship, perhaps different styles of worship are the way forward. Perhaps it doesn't matter if one church has different parts which never meet. As long as all the parts are represented in its governance - huge issues here - my Messy Church families are as much a part of church as those who come to traditional worship on a Sunday morning but do not yet make any major policy decisions as to our future. Perhaps now it doesn't how we approach God to meet our needs as long as we do it. 

The other area re community that has hit me this week has been the need to have others with us to share life with. I have found in this journey so far the amazing power of praying honest prayers. Lets pray together the enemy will be got!! When you go to evensong or evening prayer it's done with strangers usually! I've also found revisiting important places that are part of me important. I have felt close to my Dad this week. Dad died at 50 in 1985: I am 50 next birthday. I went to Kimpton on Thursday where my Dads side of the family came from and where, in the chapel, now sadly shut, I led my first solo act of worship in 1987. We had some lovely Circuit times on the Green. It was powerful to return. Those special places remain part of you and make you who you are.

Also this week I have been blessed and surprised that my needs are met and my self worth built up as I trust and open up. We are meant to be in community - whether as a faith group or just with someone  who loves us! 

Tomorrow I am off to evensong at the cathedral in Peterborough, then I need to get my head round five weeks and a few days in Shetland. Next Sunday at the Methodist Church in Whiteness. Last there at the end of a holiday club I led 20 years ago! 

My sabbatical blog 6: Wakes, whit, fun and community

I have just returned from nearly two weeks in the North West, my second of three big sabbatical trips, this time to look at traditions and especially doing some thinking about working class communities in the north and how people came together for work but also for fun, light relief from really difficult working conditions in hindsight. I was based in Blackpool, in Mossley and in Saddleworth.

When I served in Mossley, once a year they would go on about "wakes" - the town would have an enormous fun fair on the market ground which made church reverberate the noise outside was so loud! One church in the town shut down because it was "wakes" even though none of them were away. "Wakes week" was the week in the year where mill workers left their work and went, en masse to one of the northern seaside towns for a week of much needed light relief. I never realised until I read a book I got from Amazon for 10p about wakes holidays that whole towns went, leaving behind somewhat of a ghost town. I love this extract which some folk who follow me on Facebook will have already seen:

"Albert Deeley of Blackburn knew that his local vicar was going off for the wakes along with most of the rest of his flock in that vintage post war summer of 1947 - but he was still shocked to see the gentleman of the cloth walking towards him along the front, not only in a mauve shirt but minus his dog collar no less. "I could never take the man seriously after that," says Albert. "I can't begin to describe what a let down it was, almost like discovering there was no Father Christmas."

Blackpool, as Stanley Holloway put it "renowned for fresh air and fun" was invaded by people and you couldn't move for people. Most would stay in very basic guest houses, often run by tyrannical landladies. Use of the cruet was charged on your bill at the end of the week! Seriously! In a lovely book called "Growin' Up in Lancashire" there is a bit I love about more wealthy visitors who stayed in the Imperial Hotel. I laughed out loud when I read this knowing that next month a Methodist Superintendents Conference meets there: "My Gran would say of its residents, "They're so posh that lot, they get out of the bath to wee."!!!!

I didn't though really realise the importance of the Wakes Week for people until I visited a textile mill museum in Burnley last week. I had ladies in my congregations in the Ashton Circuit who were very deaf, life long friends who had worked in a mill together. When you did funerals, you discovered they had job descriptions I had to ask what they meant. I also knew about lip reading to have conversations over the factory noise, thanks to the immortal Cissie and Ada creations of Les Dawson, if you remember them. Queen Street mill closed in 1982 but is now open as a working heritage centre. A group of us had a very informative day learning about mill life, seeing bits of machinery working and the end products of different cloth, which was exported all over the world. Remember Manchester at its height was known as "Cottonopolis."




We went into the part of the mill where the looms were - there was a sign saying really no more than five minutes in there with the noise of 3000 looms was sensible. I came out with my ears ringing, feeling quite disorientated. I had a conversation with the man showing us round about my deaf ladies. He said "now treble the noise in your mind." At its capacity this space had 9000 looms working - imagine the noise. You could hear it miles away. Imagine working in that for long hours every day, with machinery that was dangerous. No wonder a week in Blackpool was your highlight of the year. When I lived in Mossley they used to tell me about the knocker upper. I used to sometimes think stories were them winding me up. But no - days started early for these people. A man with a pole came to knock on your window giving you minutes to get out of bed and get to work. A Victorian alarm clock!





While I was in Blackpool, I spent time looking for ways community was created by this light relief and fun. I've always loved Blackpool, I am one of those sad people who get excited by playing that "first sight of the Tower" game on the journey there. It is full of life and vitality even though now it has major social problems, and at weekends of course is home to all of life in its diversity awash with alcohol and enjoying hen and stag dos. I still have nightmares over the man dressed as a penis who wanted a selfie with me by the North Pier the other Friday night! This other side is there being ministered to by the folk at North Shore Methodist through their Comfort Zone work, providing space and support for an increasingly high number of homeless folk, often high on drug and alcohol abuse. Indeed on Pentecost Sunday, while we were enjoying worship in the church led by a silver band, stewards at the back weren't in the service as someone contemplating suicide was in the foyer needing some help.

The Tower Ballroom is one of my favourite places - people clearly go in there every day to dance, or to listen to the organ. From the balcony I watched people who just were there enjoying a little piece of heaven on earth. The Tower Circus is another must for me every year. Again escapism for a bit from your problems and from the world, Mooky the clown is a genius, although he makes you sweat when he comes round picking on people to help him, and he got very close to me this time. He kept saying "it's all about having a laugh, it's all about having a laugh." I laughed until my sides split. In my growing up in Lancashire book it mentions the old beauty contests on the North Pier. I love this bit, not at all PC for 2016 but there you go:
"Number 25 should have stopped at home," said my Gran. Old ladies can never whisper and this comment was quite audible even to number 25 herself."!!!! Guess the old dear worked in a mill. I found as the minister to former mill girls they always spoke very loudly, even to each other in church. I had to once have a word that I didn't wish to hear what the price of cheese was in the Co-op during the communion!!!

The other part of my trip to explore traditions and community was to do Whit Friday again after 14 years away. Like Wakes I had never heard of Whit Friday until I lived in Lancashire. Whit Friday in now just a small part of Lancashire, is the most important day of the year. The next one is planned the day after this one, and this one in great detail is talked about and analysed for days after it. Whit Friday falls into two bits. In the morning you "walk" -"what you do mean, walk?" said I on arriving in Mossley. I was very glad my predecessor, Jackie, suggested I might come and see a Whit Friday walk before I took over as minister and found myself at the front of my church procession, a banner and a brass band. Each church walks to remind folk of the church being alive at Pentecost, each has a banner which comes out despite the weather and not the easiest thing to carry, and each church has a band, hired for the day. The band the Methodist Church use are mostly young people. They have only been doing it for a few years. Apparently the first year they had never marched in time, and could only play the theme from Wallace and Gromit!!



It was still an amazing experience to walk down the streets with people lining them to watch. People still have new clothes every year for this (I had a new jacket!!) and the stories about it are amazing. One lady had special Whit Friday teeth! I did though as I walked try to reflect what it is all about for these people. Is it about the church being alive anymore? The music the bands play is not especially religious!! Unless "Hello hello, who's your lady friend?" that the Unitarian band behind us were blasting out is in a hymn book. At least this time there was no Colonel Bogey! Is it about holding on to a social event embedded in a tradtion we enjoy and that binds us together? There are people who walk who have nothing to do with any church. Indeed, within the churches, the procession used to be commented on if folk turned up to walk who hadn't been to church for ages. Whatever, it is clear this event holds community together, a shared experience, I guess looked forward to rather like wakes. It was good to see children being part of it - there was a fabulous plastic brass band of little children and I love this picture of the children being encouraged to clap as the walk passed by.



We returned to church for the usual sticky buns with iced lemon on them - a tradition no one can explain to me, but I guess you have your Whit Friday bun as well as your Whit Friday teeth or your new Whit Friday dress. I sat and chatted with folk who wanted to talk about walks past. A fascinating morning. I sat with a group I was the minister of in Millbrook, long since shut. For them keeping the event going, and holding on to it for dear life, was important.

The other part of Whit Friday is the annual band contest, where brass bands travel from village to village and play competition pieces and aim to win as many contests as they can, adjudicated by some people who sit in a little caravan! This is serious business and takes place no matter what the weather. I did the evening with friends at Greenfield in Saddleworth. The contest in Saddleworth is still very strong. The village was heaving with people, of all ages, enjoying themselves, another communal event. Then the heavens opened! The bands played on. I escaped to the Methodist Church in the village for pie and peas and then to the beer tent where I dripped - I had to have a pint of beer to stay dry!! Much alcohol was being consumed, because it was Whit Friday, and again I did wonder what that was about. Is an event like this as important in people's psyche to look forward to as important as say Christmas or birthdays? Do we need emotionally and spiritually to have things that are lighter and make our soul sing to look forward to make life do-able? Like Wakes, is having special times, meeting special people on a special day, having a calendar and counting down the days, important for us to get through? Certainly on the station platform on Monday morning people were still talking about it "did you walk?" "which band won?" etc etc and I know arrangements for 2017 are well in hand! Much to ponder...

What has this second bit of study about community taught me? That traditions are important, that they bind community together, even if we sometimes don't ask what they are about! That maybe in life groups of people need lightness and less pressure to look forward to. The mills were tough, but you formed life long friendships in them and you got on with it, and when the holiday week came, you loved it. And perhaps it is just about appreciating those moments with lovely people who come into your life and saying to yourself "maybe today I just need to have fun." Is there a theology of fun? If not, I am doing things wrong.

I loved returning to my first beloved congregation in Mossley to lead worship on Sunday. I came away remembering how good it is to just laugh together. I am convinced even though life is hard and sometimes you just need to cry, to find those people who make you smile is so important. So I end these thoughts with a belter from another book I bought (in the museum: "Tackler's Tales: a humorous look at Lancashire." I was on Hebden Bridge station reading this and burst out laughing out loud. Hebden Bridge is very posh! Enjoy - and regular readers see you next time: thoughts following worship in Harpenden!!

" So I came to Oldham, pouring rain, knocked on this door.
Landlady said "Yes?"
I said, "Can I stay here for t'week?"
"Aye," she says, "you can, but you'll get dam'd wet."

   

   

         

       

Sabbatical blog 5 - Connecting to community

I was powerfully led to do a retreat day today venturing out onto the Romney Marsh to visit some of the churches there. I visited three churches today, which have been there for centuries.

I always find sitting in ancient holy sites very powerful because it connects me to a much larger community than my 49 years here. The fact that people have been praying, worshipping, discerning God's will right where I have been today is very moving. This little church, St Thomas Becket at Fairfield is a powerful symbol of God in the midst of life, storms, floods, difficulties. I sat today and pondered church gatherings in the 12th century. I wonder what was on the PCC agenda of this little place? Later on in the day today, I went to the lovely church at Old Romney, with its pink pews (!) apparently painted pink for a Disney film made there in 1963 called Dr Syn. Never heard of it! I picked one of the best church magazines I have ever seen, connecting the Marsh churches together. I will allow the editor the cringeworthy "dreadful budgie jokes" column: "Tim goes into a pet shop and asks for a big bag of bird seed. "How many birds have you got?" asks the shopkeeper. "None," replies Tim. "I was hoping to grow some."
The priest in charge, Julie Coleman, has written to her people as the annual parochial church meeting is approaching. She talks about all human endeavour and discovery coming from often a small group of people not just taking things at face value, but painstakingly and sometimes at great personal cost, probing deeper into the mysteries and complexities of the created order. She reminds her flock they need to know they are a valuable part of the Body of Christ, and he has called us all by name, hence we journey together.
This time apart from church routine has reminded me of the privilege and importance of creating community, of investing in relationships, of enjoying other people, of laughter and joy others can bring to you. I am deeply deeply moved that people want to meet with me in this time and spend time with me. We need to take more time over people, grappling together what life is all about and what God is all about. The preacher at St Johns in Upper St Leonards the other week said he has been too busy serving God to listen to God. Are we all guilty of that?
I looked up the set Psalm for today in evening prayer - Psalm 59 - imagine a congregation as some will have done tonight - reading words of confusion about enemies and horrid people driving you mad and wanting God to get them!  "Consume them in thy wrath... and in the evening they will return : grin like a dog, and will go about the city. They will run here and there for meat: and grudge if they not be satisfied."Then he goes through the motions of belief and hope and says well God, I know it must be better - "as for me, I will sing of thy power and will praise thy mercy because thou hast been my defence and refuge in the day of my trouble." I sat and wondered how many times people in these tiny churches must have implored God to come when all around was chaos. Have we lost that sense of needing to implore?

Later on in the day I went to Dungeness, a very strange place. Today it was even more strange as the sun was trying to shine but the fog was not lifting, and I sat in silence listening to the waves lap on the beach thinking of many people I know at the moment who are in a fog, but also some who are beginning to see the light shine for them, just a little bit. Perhaps in investing time in people in community we need to encourage them more? The lovely deacon in our Circuit keeps telling me my greatest gift is that I never talk anything or anyone down. I have seen communities destroy themselves through abusive language, power games, negative vibes. Community can be transformed if we simply say to people "you matter" "a bit more. Apparently the nine days between Ascension Day and Pentecost is a special time of prayer in the C of E. In the church in Old Romney, I picked up a super little prayer book prepared for the time by the Diocese of Canterbury called "Conversations at the Crossroads." Apparently the Diocese are encouraging as a focus of work people to have more meaningful conversations with each other. I love the Canterbury Diocese! Can't my part of East Sussex be included in it?? Anyway, this little booklet is all about people in life meeting others and working things out. There is a website of fab resources: www.canterburydiocese.org/nirvana
Today's prayer spoke to me about community, time and people who God sends our way:

God who dwells in temple and heart, when we are rushing around anxiously without you, when we forget to seek you in the obvious place, still us; sit us down in your presence, amaze us with your wisdom and show us where our true focus should really be - on Jesus Christ your Son, our Lord. Amen.

I thoroughly recommend a day visiting open churches, with no agenda except to see what you see, what God is showing you, take a bag of books with you, something to write with and on, find a nice place for lunch in the middle and come home and write what has happened. You will have a lovely day! I have been blessed with a link to history, a reminder of special people and a need to find God with me just a little bit in the hard stuff. My own fog!




   

Sabbatical blog 4 - I matter in community

Week four of this fabulous sabbatical time has seen me mostly at home here in Hastings, apart from a trip to Mossley for the funeral service of the amazing Annie Marsden, to celebrate 106 years of life and laughter and service. More on Mossley in a couple of weeks when I am back there for longer.

Being at home but not at work is a little strange but it is good. The weather this week has been glorious and I have taken the opportunity to do a lot of walking, photography, reading and pondering in the sunshine, catching up with friends and just taking time. My book is coming on! Hastings is packed today with people enjoying the warmth and everyone looks happy.

I've been doing some thinking this week about people needing to know that they matter. There are so many broken people out there who need to know they are part of something, that somebody somewhere cares. Last Sunday and this, I have dropped into the two largest Anglican churches in our town to see what community feels like from the outside, how faith is communicated and if I feel I matter at the end and how I put the message of the worship into practice.

Sunday 1st May saw me at St John's Church in Upper St Leonards, a high church with plenty of incense flowing. I was warmly welcomed, the liturgy was beautiful, the choir excellent, the service was informal with down to earth folk leading it, yet extremely formal in our approach to God. The preacher was excellent reminding us that, using the Revelation passage set for last Sunday, in the end if we trust God, we must believe in the end there will be a new world. We matter and because we matter God sends us into the world to help him in the work of redemption. I was impressed that children were involved in the procession coming in bringing their own bible and candle to the front, then taking them out to their own session then coming back in to join everyone for the sacrament. It was a happy and uplifting morning and I would worship there if I wanted somewhere to go.

This Sunday, today, saw me at Holy Trinity, Hastings, at the 11.15 service. HTH is a plant from Holy Trinity Brighton which is a plant from Holy Trinity Brompton of Alpha fame. A new Alpha course beginning on Wednesday was being heavily advertised this morning. Did I matter here and was I equipped to be a Christian tomorrow from this service? Well, I was spoken to on arrival, given a quality cup of coffee and a pain au chocolat (had I known this would happen I wouldn't have had a bacon sandwich and a coffee before in the cafe opposite!) I was chatted to, and asked if I was new etc. The vicar, Simon, spent time talking to new people and was keen to make sure they were getting to know others and feeling part of it. I was amused by the countdown clock on the screens telling us how long it was til service began. Good idea! A quality music group lead us in about six songs, none of which I knew. It was very informal, people brought coffee and pastries into the worship, chatted to each other as the songs were happening, some had arms in the air, some were speaking in tongues, some were whispering "yes Jesus" throughout, some sat, some stood. The songs were mostly about blood and sin being wiped away. We had communion, a set C of E order in the middle of the service which felt a bit strange, then the vicar preached on being clothed in Christ using three Old Testament stories to illustrate people who didn't feel they mattered. This included 2 Samuel 9 - the story of David showing kindness to Mephiboseth who replies in verse 8: "what is thy servant that thou shouldest look upon such a dead dog as I am?" The vicar told us all we matter only if we are clothed with Christ, have our sins washed away and ask for forgiveness. Then the service ended with the congregation standing to ask the Holy Spirit to come, and an invitation for prayer ministry. No final hymn. The vicar said "thank you everyone" and everyone was invited to a picnic in the park.

In the past, I have been very critical of conservative evangelical worship. This morning I was determined to go with an open mind. A lot of it was good, professional, welcoming, attractive, and free. But I was left uneasy that the world outside was not mentioned at all, I was told I matter if I accept Christ but was not told what difference  that makes to Monday morning and the challenge of tomorrow. I was not challenged to change the world. I was okay and life was okay in him - Amen! The community there were clearly happy and vibrant and it is growing. But I left thinking of what the late Graham Slater at Hartley Victoria College when we trained for ministry used to say when he came to access our worship: "where was your clincher, young man?"

That verse though Simon, the vicar used from a chapter of the bible I have never read is a powerful one which is where a lot of people are: feeling they are a "dead dog" - worth nothing. I firmly believe the mission of the church is to be community which embraces people and makes a difference. My ecclesiology is very much Sunday worship or worship any way is merely to top us up, remind us of the ways of God in order to be incarnate and sacramental in the world, in the mess of life. Part of the worship this morning offered me a Jesus who is sugary sweet - not really what I see when I read of him. People are yearning for people of faith to make a difference in the world, to offer them community. I went and saw a traumatic film on Monday "Son of Saul" - one man's story of the Holocaust at Auschwitz Birkenau. A horrible two hours reflecting on people being treated like dead dogs by others who believed they could treat people who were different to them like they want to create a pure race. An article in the New Statesman describes the film as "your close up on hell." And while we pray that sort of thing will never happen again there are people around us who are going through hell today. And worship surely of a God who suffers (not that there was any of that this morning) is about redeeming the world and changing it one life at a time - isn't it?

So how to create community and bring the dead dogs into believing that they matter? Well, I am drawn to Henri Nouwen who said "When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives means the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain or touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand." That is what genuine relational community is - one person at a time. I am blessed with people in my life who do that for me and I am trying to be that for others. So, while this morning was hard, it has helped me discern more who I am and what I am led to be and do, and so I am glad I went.

Next week, worship in sunny Blackpool led by my friend and a silver band! Very different.