Two Gerbils and a Cat Called Adolph

There's somethig I covet, albeit ever so slightly.  The people that live down the street own a cat that looks like Hitler.  If I ever had a cat, I'd like mine to look like it could chase balls of wool and invade Poland*

But the other day I said to Mrs G, it's probably not appropriate, two ministers living in a house with a cat called Adolph.

And then she pointed out something.

I said TWO ministers.

Looks like I'm having a good week.

And I'm looking forward to the service on Sunday.



*Looks like the blog has reached rock botom.  I've went lolcats

Communion for All

Over on the dark side Mrs Gerbil's blog, she has some interesting things to say about Communion.  And yes, while I'm mostly in agreement, it does mess up the plan for selling pre-blessed communion wine by the truckload. 

So my take on a good communion is sort of loosely based on the closing communion at the National Gathering a few years back. 

Go out into the church garden, or a park.  Just get outside.  Have a picnic on the grass, with optional chairs for those who prefer seating.  Now pass round the sandwiches and juice. Yes, juice and sandwiches.  What we are commemorating is the last supper.  It wasn't the last thimbleful of wine and a stale crumb of bread*.  It was the main meal of the day.  The disciples were having dinner, and the last thing they needed was the munchies at midnight. 

We'll still have the respectful, traditional ceremony before eating, but we'll be like the early church, who gathered for a collective meal each day.  This is not meant as a substitute for the more formal, in-church communion that we are used to, but perhaps as a way for the church community to gather together and remember Jesus' big sacrifice for us.

So let's share what we've brought, give thanks and remember

And when we share the peace, we can also share the pieces. 



*Once I saw 80ish people sharing two slices** and still having crumbs left over.  Finally an explanation of the feeding of the 5000.

** Stale, rough and dry.

Children's address

I was away from Hillside kirk today, instead taking the children's address at the kirk up the road.  The minister of up the road is my presbytery rep for the enquiry process, and he suggested I come along, partly to see the place, and partly to get experience doing things in other churches.

Now I'm not too bothered about talking to children, having been one once myself.  My main concern is that I'm one of the first people that has discussed the Gospel with them, so I had better be sure that what I'm telling them is correct.  So make sure I've got the lesson clear in my own head.  And make sure I've got all the possible avenues they can go down covered. For example, it's all very well talking about Shrove Tuesday and ash Wednesday, but if they ask why it's called Ash Wednesday, then I need to have an answer.  So know the topic well.

The other thing was the level of the talk.  I had a great idea for a talk earlier in the week, but I felt it would have went over there heads when I started writing it down, so I left it to do as a sermon at a later date, or perhaps with a group of children that I know better.

My final thing is that I feel the need to write a script down.  I need to have the talk written out beforehand, in full.  While I only referred to it a couple of times, and even then just to remind me of a couple of key points, and what the next hymn was.  I’ll probably distil it down to bullet points for the next time. 

So it went well. 

This week is going to be a bit of an odd one.  A real university level essay to do, the sermon for next week, my second PDI meeting, a brew with Nik* and a job interview. 

*Edit to say. The brew in question will be odd because it's immediately post PDI!

My time

Before I go on, I am grateful to everyone from all the churches I visit for their kind support. 

One of the things that I'm aware of is that going to church will never really be the same again. 

I have connections, one way or another with three churches.  First there's my placement church, Hillside, then there's Eagleside, and finally there's my home church.  Whichever church I visit, I have to spend a lot of time explaining what I'm up to, and how Mrs G is doing.  They are all lovely, caring people, and I'm blessed to have their support, but I feel of late I'm missing out on the whole worship thing. I like to sit down in a church, have a short pause before the service to clear my thoughts, listen to the service and generally clear my head.  But as soon as I get to a state of reflective calm, someone, someone caring and concerned and genuinely lovely, comes over and asks me how I'm getting on or how Mrs Gerbil is doing.  They are asking because they care, and I would never hurt their feelings by hunting them.  But they have still ruined my nice reflective state. 

Even before I started the enquiry thing, I would be unable to truly switch off, because I'd be keeping one eye on the projector and another on the mixing/recording equipment in case that let us down. 

Recently I've started going to a service. And for me it's great because nobody knows me at all.  I can walk in almost unacknowledged, can sit down and I can get as reflective as I want.  It's just me, and wherever the Spirit wants to take me.  The service is short, but it's absolutely perfect, and I come away more refreshed than on many a Sunday morning.  I know that community forms a strong part of church life, but this particular church will never know how much good they are doing me by just letting me have my space and get my head in order.  So I'm sorry for being all take and no give.


In fact, I think I'm so anti-social that I don't even like my own company...

Moral Dilema for the Twenty-First Century (Part Two)

Having already discussed the probability that artificial humanoids (AH's) will integrate into congregations at some point in the future, there are other matters that need consideration.  Sooner or later, things are going to reach their natural conclusion and, well it's only natural, I mean we're only human...  Or at least fifty percent of us are mostly human.  What I'm trying to say is....

Is it still adultery if one of the consenting parties is a toaster?*

(Oh this blog is heading downhill)

The dictionary defines adultery as "Voluntary sexual intercourse between a married person and a partner other than the lawful spouse" so that seems pretty cut and dried. But looking at the same dictionary, it describes sexual intercourse as "coitus between humans."  So if one of the parties is not human, then that must make it all right? 

Humans have proven very good at trying to negotiate get-out clauses for the Ten Commandments since they were carved, smashed and carved again.  So what about this one? 

Well it's all about intent.  Assuming one or both parties has an acceptance and understanding of the laws of society then adultery is wrong.  And don't go blaming the AH for leading you astray.  An AH's innocence of the law does not give the humans a get-out clause.  If you wouldn't commit adultery with a free thinking human, then you shouldn't do it with another life form.


In short, don't do it.     

*Racist term for AH's.  I know, I'll go wash my mouth out and beg forgiveness from the Android Liberation Front.

Moral Dilema for the Twenty-First Century (Part One)

The Church has some big issues to discuss, issues which could shake the Kirk to its very foundations, and which ultimately could cause deep schisms.  The questions centre around whether we welcome them with open arms, or look upon them as an afront to creation and cast them out.  I am of course referring to one group...

Androids.

As I understand it, the Church of Scotland has no policies in place to deal with the rise of artificial humanoid (AH) worshippers within the community.

Work is currently underway to make machines that are aware of their surroundings and can be employed to be of benefit to mankind.  What would happen if  a future version of Asimo rose above his original programming?

In the film "Short Circuit 2" the star, the robot Johnny Five is chased out of a confessional.  Perhaps this is the first encounter between a robot and religion, and the encounter is not a happy one.  At a time when the newly self aware robot is trying to find a self identity, the robot is chased out of the church.  If the church cannot help create a sense of identity, then who can?  I fear that the robots of the future may seek out artificial stimulants in order to escape the drudgery of life.  I'd hate to see a wasted generation of robots getting tanked up on WD-40.

Johnny Five is clearly a robot in the traditional sense.  His design, while highly functional, remains consistent with his machine pedigree.  Newer designs of robot are being created which approach  the uncanny valley, and while looking realstic, they seem to cause an uncomfortable feeling in the observer. Something deep down in our being makes us find realism disturbing.

Which brings me on to the Cylons.  Cylons were created by man, as the soldiers and servants of humanity.  in time they become self aware, and like other systems that become self aware (see Skynet from the Terminator universe), the machines rise up against their creator.  Following the first Cylon war, where original Cylons rose up against their creators, they returned, having adopted a new, biological form.


So now the war is over, and there are Cylons living in the community.  One Sunday morning you look around and there's a lady with a distinctive red dress, accompanied by what looks like her twin sister.  And there's three versions of some other guy.  And they are all joining in with the worship, and have recited the Apostle's Creed with as much sincerity as displayed by the rest of the congregation.

So are they welcome?  Do they really believe?  Based on the assumption that the only commandments the original Cylons were given, and then promptly broke were the three laws of robotics, the biological Cylons are now following the Ten Commandments.  God created the earth and everything in it.  God created us and gave us the wisdom to create new things, so by that measure, is it true that everything that we create is ultimately a creation originating from God? An intelligent artificial life-form would be able to adopt an evolutionary approach to its source code - editing out the bits that are useless and allowing their own form of intelligent design to allow them to move on.  Is the incorporation of the Ten Commandments and the teachings of Jesus a recognition that this is the best set of rules to live by.  Or is it proof that the Divine is truly in everything.   As the Cylons have risen above their original programming, and also appear to have the means to reproduce without human intervention, have they as much right to a soul as the rest of us?

Take a look around at this new congregation.  Are they real Christians, or are they just following the motions?

And what about the robots?


Deus ex machina?

Countdown

At the end of March I've got "The Meeting" where my future, at least as far as this part of the process goes comes to an end.  As I understand it, there's three options.

1. Sod off.
2. Sod off for a couple of years and come back.
3. Go on to conference.  And at conference, options 1 and 2 remain on the table, with option
4, Come and join us being the other option.

Now there are a couple of things I'm finding trouble with at the moment.  I've had a busy old week, placement-wise and I've seen amazing works being done by churches, involving the uneducated, the under-privileged, the unloved, the untouchable.  And at every one of these events I've taken away notes on what to do, should I find myself with time on my hands and with a few spare warm bodies to help out.  It's all exciting, and it's all a far cry from sitting in a Church on a Sunday morning.

And here's the problem.  I'll tell people about these things, and they will say "That's nice, but do you really need to be an Ordained Local Minister to do that?"  And for a lot of the time, the answer is no.  But the stuff is worth talking about.  So I tell them.  But to them it looks like I'm less interested in the ministry, and more into the practical side of things.

I'm still seeing myself as part of a local ministry.  Doing all the things you see a minister doing on a Sunday, with quite a few of the things they do the rest of the week thrown in for good measure. why should people be expected to come to our uncomfortable stone boxes on a Sunday? Pastoral care groups are excellent, but there are still people who want to speak to a minister.  I want to be that minister, but I'm lousy at expressing my call.  So people think I'm only really wanting to be the person that does unusually practical stuff in the background.

I entered this whole process pretty unsure if this was the right move.  Now I'm more confident that I am being called by God to be one of His Ordained Local Ministers, but now I'm worried that if I don't make this clear enough, the people doing the earthly selection are going to give me options 1 or 2. At the very least I want 3. 

I'm booked to do a sermon on the 4th March.  The Lectionary gives me Abraham being called as a set of readings. Somehow it seems appropriate.  I've got another service as a favour to a friend in April.  If I don't get my arse in gear, then these will be my last two services.