One thing about going to a new church is the different styles of music. Every organist and praise band has their own take on the hymns, and variety is good for the soul.
Today we had "Shine, Jesus Shine" and while it was expertly played by the organist, it was slightly faster than I'm used to. But it was nowhere near as fast as I've experienced it...
Not so very long ago I was in a church where the organist was allowed to let rip. After playing his way through the first couple of hymns at a sedate genteel pace, along came the final hymn, "Shine Jesus Shine."
The organist, probably as old as the instrument he was playing, got up from his perch at the corner of the church, and approached the Clavinova. Somewhere in the distance there was a slowly increasing whine followed by a deep rumble. In the aftermath we realised he had cast off his piston engine and was spooling up his turbine...
With a nod from "Minister Traffic Control" he was cleared to taxi and demonstrated the first verse at a smooth pace. He entered the runway of the first intro, and had we been sitting down, the G forces would have pushed us gently down into our pews. 140 knots, V1, rotate, gear up and we are climbing into the first verse. The organist is still in organ mode but he will soon shake that off.
Entering the first chorus, he is fully in control of his instrument. Remembering that the symbol on the side of a Yamaha motorbike is three crossed tuning forks (it's true!) he speeds things up a gear. The congregation is ready for him, and as they hold on to the pew in front for comfort, and while one person in the third row fastens his helmet, we charge straight in to the second verse. There is a noticeable surge in speed as the organist ignites his afterburners. I begin to realise that this is an organ Maverick, and he has just requested permission to buzz the tower. And it doesn't matter if permission is refused, he's on a mission.
Some brave souls fight on. Reports from the village swear there was a sonic boom as we entered the second chorus. The organist is possessed by all the demons mentioned in the New Testament, a few from the Old and one or two that got a mention in an Anne Rice novel. We manage to hold it together for the third verse, but then things get serious.
The church starts to blur, then as every fuse in the village blows, and passes all the power to the Clavinova, all the lights start streaking past us and we realise that not only has the organist reached the final chorus, but he has also reached warp factor one. Now only the strongest are remaining. The praise band look on in awe as his fingers fly over the keys, only a blur showing below his elbow. Finally, he reaches the big finish. With a flourish that will go down in history, he strikes the final chord, and as the note sustains in the air, the congregation is showered by broken glass from the windows he has blown out. Three members of the choir are in tears, the Session Clerk has passed out, and the Minister who was standing just a little too close has lost his eyebrows. Smoke is coming from the Clavinova.
Look after your organist. They do what they do for the Lord. Support them, and occasionally, you've got to let them rip.
And then have a retiral collection to pay for the damage...
Sunday, 25 September 2011
Friday, 23 September 2011
Wednesday, 21 September 2011
School Assembly
I've not been to school for the better part of two decades. Today I sat back and witnessed my first school assembly for a long time.
It was brief, forming part of the morning registration, and I was informed in advance that five minutes was all you got. After a short welcome by the assistant head, the minister was introduced. From my seat I was able to watch the reaction of the assembled third year audience. As soon as my Local Assessor, Kathryn, (and she was introduced as Kathryn, not Mrs X or Rev Y) took to the floor, there was a subtle change. All eyes were to the front, and everyone was focusing on her message. While everyone had given due respect to the head, Kathryn had their undivided attention. Many of those present she will have known from primary school, so she seems to have earned a trust and respect from her flock.
Afterwards I was at the local school chaplains meeting. I knew half of those present, but it was a priveledge to hear about the work they are doing in schools. These ranged from small village primary schools to large town secondary schools. I heard about the types of project they were involved in, topics they had been asked to speak on (Embryology???) and the challenges they encountered. One of the ministers asked for my impressions. I told him that the thing I picked up was that they weren't just chaplains to the class, they were also a workplace chaplain. I was aware they had assisted staff with problems outside work, but also shared in the good times, by being invited to family events. A school chaplain is chaplain to the school, not just the pupils.
This whole ministry thing is a much bigger role than the job description would suggest.
To crown a pretty good day, at the Student Feed I was introduced to a baptist minister from Cameroon and we had a great old blether.
It was brief, forming part of the morning registration, and I was informed in advance that five minutes was all you got. After a short welcome by the assistant head, the minister was introduced. From my seat I was able to watch the reaction of the assembled third year audience. As soon as my Local Assessor, Kathryn, (and she was introduced as Kathryn, not Mrs X or Rev Y) took to the floor, there was a subtle change. All eyes were to the front, and everyone was focusing on her message. While everyone had given due respect to the head, Kathryn had their undivided attention. Many of those present she will have known from primary school, so she seems to have earned a trust and respect from her flock.
Afterwards I was at the local school chaplains meeting. I knew half of those present, but it was a priveledge to hear about the work they are doing in schools. These ranged from small village primary schools to large town secondary schools. I heard about the types of project they were involved in, topics they had been asked to speak on (Embryology???) and the challenges they encountered. One of the ministers asked for my impressions. I told him that the thing I picked up was that they weren't just chaplains to the class, they were also a workplace chaplain. I was aware they had assisted staff with problems outside work, but also shared in the good times, by being invited to family events. A school chaplain is chaplain to the school, not just the pupils.
This whole ministry thing is a much bigger role than the job description would suggest.
To crown a pretty good day, at the Student Feed I was introduced to a baptist minister from Cameroon and we had a great old blether.
Saturday, 17 September 2011
Alpha for a Fiver? Get real.
And it's free.
Based on pressure from the course attendees, a discreet bowl was placed so that those who wanted to contribute could. But there was absolutely no obligation to pay.
Today I was walking past a church and there was a sign outside inviting you to the introductory evening for their next Alpha course. After a meal, a well known local businessman would explain how his faith affects his life and business. Looks pretty interesting. Then the poster mentions "Important Stuff" Date, Location and the price, £5 per ticket.
A fiver?
Please tell me you are extracting the urine.
Only in tiny print at the bottom of the poster does it mention the Alpha classes are free.
I'm aware there's a cost to everything these days, but God's love is for everybody, not just those that can spare a fiver. A fiver is about 10% of the weekly income of someone receiving carers allowance. Your church is very near to the local college, and the town isn't the most affluent in the UK. Are you taking your divine inspiration from Field of Dreams? Do you really think that "If you bill them, they will come"?*1 Leave a discreet bowl for offerings, and those who can will, and through God, those who can't will repay you in kind a hundred times over.
You've just put up a poster that will keep away a lot of God's target audience. He wants the poor, and a fiver is a lot of cash. Unless it's a middle class social club you are trying to set up. If that's the case, enjoy your wine and canapés.
*1 OK, it's actually "if you build it, he will come." You already know that "if you bill them, they will come" is from somewhere completely different.
Wednesday, 14 September 2011
On Hebrews 13:2
It was the first day back at the student feed today. Every Wednesday, students are invited into the church for soup, bread and juice.
That's it.
No bible bashing.
No long, loud, rambling prayers.
No hymns.
Just soup.
Two flavours, lentil and tomato.
With the possibility of second helpings if you ask. In fact, nobody really bats an eye if you dip your Gregs sausage roll in the soup. Nobody stops you bringing your own food. Someone asked if there was a bowl for tips for the staff. We thanked him, but, no, there isn't, because it's not about the money, it's about the soup. Had this been an ordinary church event, someone would have laid out a saucer and there would have been the occasional tinkle as a few coins were placed, but we don't want to put people under pressure. Besides the support from the congregation, someone keeps donating money to keep the soup flowing, but we don't know who they are. And a group of students had a meeting, passed a hat afterwards and gave a donation for which we are exceptionally grateful.
We don't even ask to see student ID, and we know that some of our guests aren't students
For the people who were new this year, especially those without a church background, some will have walked away asking "where's the catch?" And thinking that the hard sell will come next week. It won't. Next week there will be soup. The lentil will remain, but the other will be at the chef's discretion.
Before lunchtime, I walked over the road to the college and handed out flyers. Some familiar faces from last term helped explain that it's good, and that there really is such a thing as a free lunch. I went over to the smoking area, handed out a few flyers where one student thanked me, while the girl that was standing with him took a completely different reaction.
She stated very forcefully how she hated church and wouldn't be coming over, before storming off.
Had a cartoonist drawn the situation, the first student and I would have been drawn standing there with a thought bubble rising above us, containing the three letters, "WTF?" He was exceptionally apologetic, and told me that he was a cage fighter in his spare time, and of all the people, he would have expected that he was the one that should have had unexplained fits of rage. And he'd never do that to a complete stranger, especially someone giving out gifts. I told him that no apology is required, it wasn't his fault, and that he and his friend are still welcome.
Today I looked like a student. Jeans, denim jacket. In fact, I wouldn't have looked out of place at a Status Quo concert either. I certainly wasn't going there waving my bible and telling the sinners to repent. I've got to realise that mentioning even the most passing association with church can provoke anything from the cold shoulder all the way up to a hostile reaction. The further down this path I go, the way in which people speak to me will change. Church has a lot of baggage attached to it. Why would anyone want to get involved in an organisation that tells people they are all going to hell. How can I convince you that it's not true?
The hidden catch of the student feed is that you are coming into our odd looking building and realising that we are not a complete shower of bastards. We like people. We want to share, and to let you know that there is always a welcome for you, be it on a Wednesday, or through the rest of the week.
If you want to find out about the God thing, ask us. I'm sure we could give you a quick lesson, and if the five staff don't have the answer, I'm sure the minister was around somewhere.
You're all angels. Now enjoy your soup.
That's it.
No bible bashing.
No long, loud, rambling prayers.
No hymns.
Just soup.
Two flavours, lentil and tomato.
With the possibility of second helpings if you ask. In fact, nobody really bats an eye if you dip your Gregs sausage roll in the soup. Nobody stops you bringing your own food. Someone asked if there was a bowl for tips for the staff. We thanked him, but, no, there isn't, because it's not about the money, it's about the soup. Had this been an ordinary church event, someone would have laid out a saucer and there would have been the occasional tinkle as a few coins were placed, but we don't want to put people under pressure. Besides the support from the congregation, someone keeps donating money to keep the soup flowing, but we don't know who they are. And a group of students had a meeting, passed a hat afterwards and gave a donation for which we are exceptionally grateful.
We don't even ask to see student ID, and we know that some of our guests aren't students
For the people who were new this year, especially those without a church background, some will have walked away asking "where's the catch?" And thinking that the hard sell will come next week. It won't. Next week there will be soup. The lentil will remain, but the other will be at the chef's discretion.
Before lunchtime, I walked over the road to the college and handed out flyers. Some familiar faces from last term helped explain that it's good, and that there really is such a thing as a free lunch. I went over to the smoking area, handed out a few flyers where one student thanked me, while the girl that was standing with him took a completely different reaction.
She stated very forcefully how she hated church and wouldn't be coming over, before storming off.
Had a cartoonist drawn the situation, the first student and I would have been drawn standing there with a thought bubble rising above us, containing the three letters, "WTF?" He was exceptionally apologetic, and told me that he was a cage fighter in his spare time, and of all the people, he would have expected that he was the one that should have had unexplained fits of rage. And he'd never do that to a complete stranger, especially someone giving out gifts. I told him that no apology is required, it wasn't his fault, and that he and his friend are still welcome.
Today I looked like a student. Jeans, denim jacket. In fact, I wouldn't have looked out of place at a Status Quo concert either. I certainly wasn't going there waving my bible and telling the sinners to repent. I've got to realise that mentioning even the most passing association with church can provoke anything from the cold shoulder all the way up to a hostile reaction. The further down this path I go, the way in which people speak to me will change. Church has a lot of baggage attached to it. Why would anyone want to get involved in an organisation that tells people they are all going to hell. How can I convince you that it's not true?
The hidden catch of the student feed is that you are coming into our odd looking building and realising that we are not a complete shower of bastards. We like people. We want to share, and to let you know that there is always a welcome for you, be it on a Wednesday, or through the rest of the week.
If you want to find out about the God thing, ask us. I'm sure we could give you a quick lesson, and if the five staff don't have the answer, I'm sure the minister was around somewhere.
You're all angels. Now enjoy your soup.
Tuesday, 13 September 2011
Japanese Swordsmanship.
When the zombies rise up, I want this guy on my side...
I know. You used to play rounders when you were in the Brownies and you think you could hit the baseball with the sword. How about we shrink the ball a little...
Do you still think you could hit the ball? If you'll excuse me, I'm going to watch The Seven Samurai.
P.S. Did you know that they are making a remake? Hasn't anyone told the producers that there's already been one? But you know that, don't you...?
I know. You used to play rounders when you were in the Brownies and you think you could hit the baseball with the sword. How about we shrink the ball a little...
Do you still think you could hit the ball? If you'll excuse me, I'm going to watch The Seven Samurai.
P.S. Did you know that they are making a remake? Hasn't anyone told the producers that there's already been one? But you know that, don't you...?
Monday, 12 September 2011
Trust me...
For the benefit of Mrs G. How a trailer should be made. Lots of the good stuff, without revealing the plot.
After all, we can't have spoilers...
After all, we can't have spoilers...
Sunday, 11 September 2011
Day One
Day one, and no, I'm not starting at "in the beginning..." again. Today was my first day at my placement church for the Extended Enquiry. Mrs Gerbil, currently in a state of ecclesiastical limbo, came with me to Hillside Kirk.
We've got standards when it comes to church. There must be a welcome at the door - a welcome, not just a purple book thrust at you. And there should be a cup of tea afterwards. Tea, a full cup of dark brown hot liquid, not the third full cup of lukewarm wee that the CofS seems to serve. Please folks, remember that the tea leaf was lovingly hand picked in some far flung corner of the empire, and carefully shipped here for your delight. At least make that tea leaf feel like it's had a worthy death. Digressing here. Fortunately they ticked both boxes. People were genuinely welcoming, not just at the door, but throughout. And the tea was just right.
I wasn't formally introduced to the congregation. It was nice just to be able to sit back and enjoy the service without a lot of fuss being made.
There's a few things I have noted to discuss with my supervisor when we meet properly this week.
I'll be at Hillside Kirk for a few months, so I'm looking forward to becoming part of their community, whatever God has got planned for me.
We've got standards when it comes to church. There must be a welcome at the door - a welcome, not just a purple book thrust at you. And there should be a cup of tea afterwards. Tea, a full cup of dark brown hot liquid, not the third full cup of lukewarm wee that the CofS seems to serve. Please folks, remember that the tea leaf was lovingly hand picked in some far flung corner of the empire, and carefully shipped here for your delight. At least make that tea leaf feel like it's had a worthy death. Digressing here. Fortunately they ticked both boxes. People were genuinely welcoming, not just at the door, but throughout. And the tea was just right.
I wasn't formally introduced to the congregation. It was nice just to be able to sit back and enjoy the service without a lot of fuss being made.
There's a few things I have noted to discuss with my supervisor when we meet properly this week.
I'll be at Hillside Kirk for a few months, so I'm looking forward to becoming part of their community, whatever God has got planned for me.
Wednesday, 7 September 2011
Bramble (Blackberry) Wine.
I suppose there's a point, before you get started with your call that you get moved to make an awful lot of wine based on some inspiration from your parents. My parents were keen home winemakers, experimenting with many flavours. Some memorable flavours were rosehip, rowan, tea, apple, marrow, and beetroot - apparently the beetroot even stained your pee purple... After obtaining a starter winemaking kit from a local charity shop, Mrs Gerbil and I have made a few concoctions, sometimes with alarming results. She will be quick to note that the Vimto wine was certainly not her idea As a tribute to it's flavour, it has been called Vim... This being the bramble season, today was spent making bramble wine.
Boots used to stock winemaking kit, but not any more. The best place to get wine and beer making supplies in Scotland, in my opinion is Stirling Health Food Store, where the owner has given me loads of helpful advice.
The following recipe is based on one from my parents copy of "The Boots Book of Home Winemaking and Brewing" by BCA Turner published 1979. Last year we used the stock boots recipe. This year we have tweaked it to use more fruit and less sugar. Variations for this year's version are in brackets.
Bramble wine (5 gallons or 25 litres)
7.5kg freshly picked brambles (10kg)
1250 grams red grape juice concentrate (5 litres of supermarket grape juice worked fine)
4.5kg sugar (4kg)
18 litres boiling water
5 tsp citric acid. (3 tsp)
1/2 tsp tannin (didn't have any last year. Forgot to get any this year.)
pectolase (5 tsp although read the label on the container)
yeast nutrient
yeast.
Wash, drain and crush the brambles, pour on the boiling water and when cool (the next day) add the acid, tannin, pectolase, grape juice, nutrient and yeast. Make sure whatever you are using as a fermentation vessel is big enough to hold all this. If you are using supermarket grape juice, it's not all going to fit into a standard 5 gallon fermenter. This is when you realise that 1250 grams of concentrated grape juice takes up a whole lot less volume. If you need to, only use 2 litres of grape juice at this stage.
Place the lid on top of your fermentation vessel loosely, leave it in a warm place for 5 days.
Now the recipe says you need to strain, press, stir in the sugar, pour into a fermentation jar, top up with cold boiled water and ferment to dryness. Oh, how one sentence can make it seem so simple...
We had a big funnel over the fermentation vessel, and into that we placed a bit of muslin. We then started syphoning the bramble juice through. After 2 litres out of the 25 or so, the pipe was blocked with bramble pips, and the cloth was clogged with fruit pulp. It was clear we were going to be there all day. After some head scratching (if your hands are covered in bramble juice, everything you touch will turn purple, including the head you are scratching) we got another fermentation bucket, pegged the muslin in a sort of cone over the bucket, poured in the remaining pulp and went out for lunch. When we got back, the majority of liquid had drained into the bucket. All we then had to do was wring out the fruit pulp to get the last of the juice out, transfer the liquid to the fermentation vessel and add the 4 kilos of sugar.
Bugger, there's only two kilos in the cupboard. We could have sworn there was four.
So now after visiting the place where "every little helps" there's four kilos of sugar in the now fermenting bramble juice. The gravity at this stage is 1.060, although that may be on the low side. I'm not convinced all the sugar has disolved.
In about a week, when the fermentation has slowed down I'll rack it - that's where you syphon to a fresh vessel, leaving the later of yeast sediment behind. Then it will be left for up to a month to ensure fermentation has stopped. At this stage I will rack it, add campden tablets to stop the fermentation, de-gas it, and then filter it to clear it. Then it's off to somewhere cool to mature for a year.
Simple.
But my hands are still purple.
Boots used to stock winemaking kit, but not any more. The best place to get wine and beer making supplies in Scotland, in my opinion is Stirling Health Food Store, where the owner has given me loads of helpful advice.
The following recipe is based on one from my parents copy of "The Boots Book of Home Winemaking and Brewing" by BCA Turner published 1979. Last year we used the stock boots recipe. This year we have tweaked it to use more fruit and less sugar. Variations for this year's version are in brackets.
Bramble wine (5 gallons or 25 litres)
7.5kg freshly picked brambles (10kg)
1250 grams red grape juice concentrate (5 litres of supermarket grape juice worked fine)
4.5kg sugar (4kg)
18 litres boiling water
5 tsp citric acid. (3 tsp)
1/2 tsp tannin (didn't have any last year. Forgot to get any this year.)
pectolase (5 tsp although read the label on the container)
yeast nutrient
yeast.
Wash, drain and crush the brambles, pour on the boiling water and when cool (the next day) add the acid, tannin, pectolase, grape juice, nutrient and yeast. Make sure whatever you are using as a fermentation vessel is big enough to hold all this. If you are using supermarket grape juice, it's not all going to fit into a standard 5 gallon fermenter. This is when you realise that 1250 grams of concentrated grape juice takes up a whole lot less volume. If you need to, only use 2 litres of grape juice at this stage.
Place the lid on top of your fermentation vessel loosely, leave it in a warm place for 5 days.
Now the recipe says you need to strain, press, stir in the sugar, pour into a fermentation jar, top up with cold boiled water and ferment to dryness. Oh, how one sentence can make it seem so simple...
We had a big funnel over the fermentation vessel, and into that we placed a bit of muslin. We then started syphoning the bramble juice through. After 2 litres out of the 25 or so, the pipe was blocked with bramble pips, and the cloth was clogged with fruit pulp. It was clear we were going to be there all day. After some head scratching (if your hands are covered in bramble juice, everything you touch will turn purple, including the head you are scratching) we got another fermentation bucket, pegged the muslin in a sort of cone over the bucket, poured in the remaining pulp and went out for lunch. When we got back, the majority of liquid had drained into the bucket. All we then had to do was wring out the fruit pulp to get the last of the juice out, transfer the liquid to the fermentation vessel and add the 4 kilos of sugar.
Bugger, there's only two kilos in the cupboard. We could have sworn there was four.
So now after visiting the place where "every little helps" there's four kilos of sugar in the now fermenting bramble juice. The gravity at this stage is 1.060, although that may be on the low side. I'm not convinced all the sugar has disolved.
In about a week, when the fermentation has slowed down I'll rack it - that's where you syphon to a fresh vessel, leaving the later of yeast sediment behind. Then it will be left for up to a month to ensure fermentation has stopped. At this stage I will rack it, add campden tablets to stop the fermentation, de-gas it, and then filter it to clear it. Then it's off to somewhere cool to mature for a year.
Simple.
But my hands are still purple.
Sunday, 4 September 2011
A Day Sixteen Flashback.
Back on day sixteen I suggested an attempt at Psalm 23 to the tune of "Tiptoe Through the Tulips."
Someone has been there already. Enjoy.
With bonus points awarded if you can get a congregation to join in.
Someone has been there already. Enjoy.
With bonus points awarded if you can get a congregation to join in.
Saturday, 3 September 2011
Torchwood
Jack, please keep your trousers on. You spent a large enough chunk of last week in the very close company of your new companion. As an intergalactic traveller, at least you have managed to choose an approximately compatible species for a change, although in sci-fi, bipedal apes are a lot easier to cast. (There's not many casting agencies where you can obtain a red-shirted, amorphous blob of goo to die in the first ten minutes of your latest space opera.)
But really, the only time you get undressed is when there's ten minutes to kill between plot elements. Yes, we are aware that the relationship with Angelo will be critical for the second part of the series, but when Rose "I want you to draw me like one of your French girls" and Jack got it together, they scored $1.8bn at the box office, and all you saw was one sweaty hand in the back of a Renault.
So, Jack, when it comes to screen time in the buff, remember that it's quality over quantity that counts.
But really, the only time you get undressed is when there's ten minutes to kill between plot elements. Yes, we are aware that the relationship with Angelo will be critical for the second part of the series, but when Rose "I want you to draw me like one of your French girls" and Jack got it together, they scored $1.8bn at the box office, and all you saw was one sweaty hand in the back of a Renault.
So, Jack, when it comes to screen time in the buff, remember that it's quality over quantity that counts.
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