Gorgons versus Angels

OK, so I've been watching Atlantis and Doctor Who.

So what would happen in a staring contest between one of these...

and one of these?

© BBC

5.87 Volts

5.87 volts.  As my high school technical teacher may have put it, "not enough power to pull the skin off a rice pudding."

5.87 volts is certainly not enough power to crank my motorbike. 

5.87 volts is not what you want to find when you are thirty minutes from the start of a service that is a twenty minute drive away.

Bugger.

Apologies phoned through to Lowry (North)

10 volts and the ignition lights will flicker into life.  That's enough to push start the bike.  This is the point that I pull out fuses for all unnecessary systems on the bike, in order to give it fighting chance to start.

11 volts and the starter may give a grudging turn, and it will be borderline of the bike will start. 

It's a relatively well maintained bike, and it's pretty reliable, so when it does let me down, it really picks its moments.  I think this damp weather has done it no favours.

I'm hoping that my next placement church will be a little closer.  My reasons for not opting for Lowry (north) was for precisely days like today.  Public transport to Lowry (North) would take me over two hours on a Sunday, each way.  With two ministers in the house, there is only one car, and Mrs Gerbil has first refusal on it.  From the summer, Mrs G will be on probation and will be at her church full time. 

Of my top five churches for placement, one was practically at the end of my street, and the next two were a 25 and a 30 minute cycle away.  I'm going to have to have serious thoughts about where I'm placed next.

Merry Christmas.

Christingle? I'd rather not.

I'm a little worried about the idea of a Christingle service. 

This month a food bank launched in my presbytery, the third in the area that I'm aware of.  Churches and schools around here are throwing their weight behind the project, and I'm particularly impressed with the work of one of the local high schools in their collection efforts. 

The idea of the Christingle service seems nice, but I don't like the idea of food being used in worship if it's going to waste.  i would like to think that the oranges will all be eaten afterwards.  If so, enjoy it, and read no further.

I just don't like the idea of food going to waste when there's a need for food.  That we as a church are saying we will help feed the poor, then have an example of conspicuous consumption.  There's something not quite right here.

Oh, and the orange juice makes a mess of the carpet...

Where's the Bairns?

A while back I was at a meeting where it was mentioned that an advent wreath had to be bought because it's getting a bit too much for the person who had been making them for years.  I can't remember the exact cost, but it was enough to draw a shocked intake of breath from all those gathered.  To me, it seemed like a fair price for the work that the florist put in, and it was a perfect example of the value that the volunteers in the church put in, through their time, talents and money.

I asked at the time if some of the children could have been given an oasis ring and, with appropriate assistance, made their own advent ring.  It would have been a nice contribution from them, and a seasonal example of their being part of the congregation.  After all, Christmas is the season that children have most involvement in with the church.  could they manage something else?  Would it make the season that is busy for them a little too much like work?

When discussion came up about the use of matches or a lighter to light the candles, I suggested that the children would find one of those stove lighter wands easier to use, there was blank looks.  People were more worried about the prospect of wax on the carpet than children using wax tapers.

Advent arrived, and while one adult read a script about the candles, another adult lit the candles.  This pattern was repeated, with the exception of yesterday, when I got to light all four candles and read the script.

When the nativity play started, the children acted out their parts, but in mime only.  There were no spoken parts, which, while they can on occasion be slow in delivery, are cute. People still talk about the times when they had a part to play in their nativity many years ago.  The narrator, another adult, did all the speaking.  so yes, it was cute, it was Christmassy, and the important parts of the message were there.  I just don't like feeling that the children have to be old before they are allowed to be young again.




In other news, I'm listening to Team Rock Radio at the moment.  No adverts, with the exception of an occasional ad for the magazine that is paying the bills.  A very occasional Christmas song, which usually has an awesome guitar riff.  If the first song you hear of a day is the one that sticks in your head all day, Monday, the day of the interview with the Christian organisation, the tune in my head was "Can I Play with Madness."  It seemed appropriate...

Watch Night

3.5 hours later, we are finished.  That is after about 3 hours of rehearsals yesterday.

 We did open in prayer, for all those in attendance, and also for the viewers, in the hope they will get something from the broadcast.

But it was only about half of a recording.  Half the hymns were recorded by another group of singers in the local area earlier today.  And also half the bells - the sound engineer didn't do midnight, he used 6pm and doubled it.  It's going to be interesting to see how the church looked lit for television, as what the eye sees is completely different to what the camera sees.

It's an unusual act of worship, but I think it's an important one.  The audience for the Watch Night service is 250,000.  It's a privilege to be a very small part of a church service that has so many people watching.  The reasons people are watching, well we don't know.  Perhaps they can't get to their own church so late, perhaps they don't ever attend church, yet it wouldn't be Christmas without some of the old tunes.  Whatever the reason, I pray they find it a spiritual experience.

The broadcast will be on the BBC at 11:20 (I think) on 24th December.  If you are looking for me, I'm somewhere in the middle, standing next to Mrs Gerbil.

watch night live 5

Just heard an impromptu singing of Praise my soul the king of heaven. Actually very good.

watch night live 4

My feet are killing me! Much more respect for Choirs now. I didn't appreciate how much work singing is. Hopefully only one more hymn to go although I think the minister has a speaking part to come.

watch night live 3

I think I've just had a close up. Hope this isn't HD!

watch night live 2

First run through of the first hymn. Then another two takes for good measure.

Coughing is forbidden!

Live Blogging from Watch Night

I'm at a recording for the BBC watch night service. The historic church interior is full of camera equipment,lights etc. One man is currently up a ladder adjusting a spotlight and is in danger of plummeting to his demise or burning his head on the next light over.

From all over Presbytery, people have dug out their festive jumpers.

More to follow...

Hard Questions

"Why do we drink Jesus' blood?"

If you want to find a whole load of awkward questions, Primary Four is the place to find them. This was the first time I had sat in a primary four class, since primary four.  Pamela, the Methodist Deacon invited me to take part in her morning assembly, with a couple of classes afterwards.  There was a small issue when we discovered that neither the two of us had a lighter for the Advent candle.  Back in my day, you could always rely on at least one of the pupils having a lighter, but these modern young 'uns seem to have kicked the weed habit.

The two classes were interesting, and while I felt I was basking in the glory of Pamela and Stephen, the children seemed willing to open up to me.  They had seen me at the assembly the other week, so now they wave at me and say hello. 

I'm still getting used to modern school culture, as you don't put your hand up to answer a question, instead you have "answering arms"where you fold your arms, while at the same time maintaining an expression of enthusiasm.  The way they were bouncing up and down with folded arms, reminded me of a troop of Cossack dancers! 

Nelson Mandela

"Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God."



Rest in peace Madiba.

Source: Glasgow City Council Libraries.

Lap Dancing Discounts

My dear old Gran hits 100 next week, so today after having a brew with some local candidates, I went greetings card shopping. 

I picked up a tasteful card, handed over my money and the card was handed back to me in a small plastic bag.  Upon leaving the store I looked into the bag and as well as the tasteful card, I looked down upon a card depicting a dancer's bare arse.

WTF?

(Mrs G has pointed out that she was wearing a thong.  I suppose that makes a difference.)

So I returned to the store, and the lady behind the counter told me she it was her other employer and she was told to put them in the bags.  I dumped the cards on the counter but I wish I had kept them, if only for evidence.

I've been around, I've seen a lot, and I'm not much of a prude, and I'm aware that businesses have to engage in upselling to promote their business.  But do they really think we are taking my Gran to a lap dancing bar for her hundredth?

Presbytery

If there was one good thing about Presbytery, it was my colleagues footwear.  She had on the most amazing pair of purple tartan Doc Marten's.  Sitting amongst a group of colleagues where our office wear is predominately either black (for pulpit, crematorium and graveside) or dark navy blue (school assemblies and hospital visits) it was a pleasant change to see something strikingly different. 

The rest of the evening was spent rumbling feet in agreement with decisions and deliverances that had been made by sub-committees. I'm not a member of Presbytery, I'm just an observer, so I can't officially get involved in the debate.  I don't even rumble my feet, which makes me feel like I'm abstaining or objecting.  I hope nobody notices.

Perhaps this is just a quiet spell.  Perhaps it would have been a bit more lively when Presbytery plans were being drawn up.  Tonight was just a little too quiet.  I'd hate to be involved in an assembly where nobody ever spoke. I would feel obliged to come out with an expressly controversial opinion, just to try to get some sort of debate going.

If you'll excuse me, I'm off to buy some shoes for next Presbytery.

  Source: Wikipedia

Communion

I have a lovely white tablecloth.  it comes out for special occasions, and it's enormous.  It will cover our dining table completely, with a lot left over.  We have to fold it in half, and then on top of that goes plates, bowls, glasses, cutlery etc.  If anything is spilled, well we might give the cloth a soaking to prevent staining, but it's an accident, and it's a sign of a lovely meal.  While we look after the good cloth, it's there to be used.

Today I had my first communion where I was behind the table - I was never an elder, although my Presbytery says I was...  On top of the white cloth had been placed a plastic sheet, protecting the white tablecloth.  It was as Stephen read the intimations that I noticed some marks on the plastic.  There was an arrow pointing to the congregation, then some circles where the elements were to be placed.  A space had been left for the lectern, but not much.  In thinking about it, there was more space devoted to the two communion jugs, which were not used, or even filled, than for the Minister's notes. 

I mentioned to Pamela, the Methodist Deacon that I preferred communion at her church, where we could all gather round the table, and there was a bit more spontaneity, although we agreed that isn't always possible due to large congregations and building layout.  I'm just worried that there is a process that we must be seen to follow, without deviation.  So are we taking part in a process or a sacramental commemoration? 

Much to ponder...

Working in a Church.

There is a tipping point in the busyness of church life, where congregations feel they need to start employing a paid staff. When the volume of mail gets too much, or when the extra enterprises associated with the congregation require more than can be handled by a volunteer a few hours a week, then you will seee anadvert for someone to help around the office.

I know a few people who work in congregations.  One has been working in a church for a good few years now.  It's a busy church that has a number of rooms available for hire through the week, plus a catering service, so there's a lot on top of the standard congregational life.  Their paid hours are Monday to Friday, yet they worship with that congregation on a Sunday.  This means that, when something goes wrong, or if there's something that needs stuck in next weeks order of service, they are given a scrap of paper on Sunday morning to deal with through the week.  Yet there's someone else I know that is strict about the mon-Fri 9-5 contracted hours and goes to another congregation to worship. 

My concern for the first person is that they don't have a separation between their church and working lives.  Where do they go to for spiritual direction, when the Minister is also their boss?  Would it be more appropriate if we recruited our staff from outwith our congregations so as to be a bit more fair to our employees?  Should we be advising our employees that worshiping with us on a Sunday isn't a part of their contract, and they may wish to worship elsewhere? 

I'm not sure.  It depends on the person and the congregation.  And it's easy for me to say  here in the Central belt where there's churches all over the place.  What about the Highlands or Lowlands where you can have miles between parishes?  I've no answers, but it's something to be thinking about.

Christ the King Sunday

Christ the King Sunday is the last event in the church year before Advent begins next week.

You know, Advent.  Celebrating the coming of Jesus. 

If you are going to switch on your Christmas lights, some time in Advent is good. 

Having them switched on the Saturday before Christ the King Sunday is liturgically so last year.

It wasn't a shopping centre, it wasn't our neighbours.

It was a church. 

It was a CofS church.in the next parish north from here. 

Please, get real.  It's bad enough that the shops have Christmas spreading backwards from December, I don't want the church to be doing the same.

I'm sure they will be celebrating Easter just as soon as the Creme Eggs hit the shops.

Dumb Animals

Short version.  Guide dog attacked while going to the pub. Source Crewe Chronicle.

The dumb animal in question being the owner of any dog that permits, through action or inaction, an attack on a guide dog.

Having known a number of people with assistance dogs or who have puppy walked, I have seen the benefit that assistance dogs bring to peoples lives.  There's a lot of investment in training a guide dog, but it's more than paid off by the fact that their owners can get out to work, and not have to rely on others.

Someone needs to teach the owners the Woodhouse method, while their dogs sit and watch...

Off topic.

Off topic.  Still awesome.

A Month or So in

So what have I been up to?

Lowry (North) like many of the churches round here on the Atlantic coast has a whole lot going on through the week.  And just like every other church, for every organisation there is usually a meeting to go with them!

After my first funeral the other week, it was followed up by another, although my second wasn't part of placement, and it was a pretty rough experience for all concerned.   I'd like to be done with funerals for this year.

I have had the good things as well.  Remembrance service in the care home was nice, as we were profusely thanked by many of the residents for coming along.  One lady was determined to stand for the National Anthem.  It may have taken her a little time to get up, but there was no way she was sitting for the Queen.

I made a pastoral visit to a lady who got her driving license thanks to WWII and hasn't stopped driving since.  It was really nice to spend time just blethering about her family and life in general, and she makes an exceedingly good cup of tea.  She did admit that she hadn't been baking, and her cakes may also have been "Exceedingly Good"  as well... 

The church has a number of staff, full time and volunteers, so I have spent time getting to know some of them, and hearing what it's like to work for the church in a non-ministerial role.  There is a lot going on based from the church office so it was interesting to hear how the volunteers and the paid staf work together.

All in, it's an interesting placement, and I'm being kept busy.  My only concern is that the OLM handbook states that I am to spend three hours plus a Sunday.  While I am trying to do perhaps more than I should, I still think it would be hard to fit everything into three hours a week. 

***********************************************

In other news, I am sitting writing this in a cafe.  One of the staff has just had a rant about why it should be against the law to sell things cheaper on the internet. The internet should be more expensive to force people to go to the shops.  I don't think she has embraced the information age.  In fact, I think she is still upset that Mr Ford's motor car has forced the horses from the road...

Remembrance Sunday

First draft of a remembrance Sunday sermon.  Feel free to use if you have reached that point where you have run out of week.  Errors, omissions and typos are all mine and are included complimentary.

In monastic life, alongside the central church, you would always find a bakery and a brewhouse.  Because the water was not guaranteed to be pure, the monks would have a brewhouse which would brew ale with an alcohol content just strong enough to keep the water bacteria free.  In Dunfermline, at the Abbot House, they are recreating a medieval brewery, just like the one that would have been nearby when the abbey was a working community.  

When Mrs Gerbil and I visited, the brewer told us that the process  is temperature critical and you need to get the liquid up to exactly 70 degrees centigrade.  In the absence of thermometers, the way you would tell the liquid had got to that temperature is by looking at the surface.  When the cauldron  hit seventy degrees, the surface would go mirror smooth and you could see your face in it.  Everything looks calm on top, yet things are still quite hot underneath, an awful lot closer to boiling than ordinary room temperature.

How often does conflict look like that?  You may think that things are peaceful on the surface, but underneath, the unresolved hatred on both sides means that it won’t take much for things to reach boiling point.  

The global landscape has been shaped by conflict, past and present.  Tensions leading to the first world war had been brewing for at least a century before, with a network of treaties and alliances all serving to try to prevent war while at the same time allowing them to increase their military capabilities.  It only took a small act, the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand, for the whole house of cards to come tumbling down, and the deadly conflict to erupt.

And even with the ending of hostilities, the treaty of Versailles didn’t really sort anything out in Europe, and World War 2 was inevitable.  The effects of the wars can still be seen today on the maps of Europe, in the shape of Germany, and the divisions in the former Yugoslavia.

In the British isles, we have had our own share of conflict.  Between 1969 and 2010, the troubles in Northern Ireland lead to at least 3,500 deaths, and each death had a mother, or a father or a child that was bereaved, asking why.

One such parent, Colin Parry set up the Tim Parry – Johnathan Ball Foundation for Peace in Warrington, where Tim and Johnathan were killed in an IRA bomb attack.  Colin did something perhaps unthinkable to victims of terror, he invited Martin McGuinness, the Northern Irish Deputy First Minister, and former IRA member to speak to the foundation.  Colin Parry has said that he does not forgive McGuinness, and is aware that his decision has drawn severe criticism, But he has said that “this is absolutely what you need to do if you are leading a peace foundation which proclaims the importance of talking rather than fighting.” 

In his speech to the foundation, Martin McGuinnes had this to say...

“Conflict resolution is about much more than ending conflict. The conflict is over, but the work of conflict resolution must continue.  If we approach conflict resolution on the same basis that we approached ending the conflict then I firmly believe acknowledgements about the past can become a powerful dynamic which will move us again to new places that many believe are beyond us.”

We can see that, just like the heating pot in the brewery, we cannot just look at the calm reflective surface, we need to be aware of what is going on underneath.  

The Isaiah reading this morning is a familiar one this time of year, beating swords into ploughshares and spears into pruning hooks.  Is this idealistic  Does it actually have any real world merit?

The war in Mozambique, the only country in the world that has a machine gun on its flag,  raged between 1977 to 1992.  As one way of finding ways of reconciliation between communities, The right Reverend Bishop Dinis Sengulane arranged the collection of 600,000 weapons, exchanging guns for books, bicycles, and sewing machines.  One village exchanged enough guns they bought a tractor.  Not a plough, but close enough.  There was a genuine fear that the guns would have been shipped to another part of Africa and they would have fueled a conflict elsewhere.  

 There are millions of weapons circulating Africa from the colonial days, Belgian, French, Russian, even British army rifles, all still deadly.  In a project that brought together artists from all sides of the divide, some of the guns were turned into art, Two examples, a tree of life, and a throne, both recently on display in the British Museum.   

The artworks are the visible part of swords into ploughshares, but perhaps more importantly, swords are not just physical weapons, but a willingness to seek conflict rather than reconciliation.  It’s not enough to calm the water by taking away the guns, you have to change hearts from swords to plowshares as well.  Through his work supported by Christian Aid, Bishop Sengulane continues to seek to do this.  

We hear that “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends”  I would argue that to devote your life to peace, to spend your every waking hour uniting communities, breaking down barriers and softening hearts that have been hardened through years of warfare, that is the same thing.  That is showing great love for your friends.  And who are our friends, and who are our neighbours?  I’m going to  leave you to answer that yourselves.   

I will close today with some words from Archbishop Desmond Tutu: “You can only be human in a human society. If you live with hate and revenge, you dehumanise not only yourself but your community. You must forgive to make your community whole.”

Blessed are the peacemakers.  So pray for them, support them, wherever they are.  Help make them stronger.  Then you too will be doing your bit, beating swords into ploughshares, one gun and one heart at a time.

R.I.P

Let us take a moment to remember the internet legend that is George Thornton.  George was the man that had the inspired idea to remove a dead whale from a beach with the use of twenty cases of dynamite.  Story here.

And if you have never seen the news report, where have you been.


George, may you rest in peace.  And may the whale rest in pieces. 

Life/Lives Balance

Yesterday's post was a right ray of fracking sunshine, wasn't it?  So first of all, thanks to JohnO and Nik for their wise advice which appears in the comments to that post.

Thanks are also due to the family from yesterdays service who emailed my supervisor with her thanks for the service and said:

"I would also please like you to thank [spot] ( oh I hope I have gotten his name right ) for his contribution to the service...I have no doubt he will make a wonderful Minister too." 

It was a nice lift to find this in my mailbox when I got up this morning.

I think my problem yesterday was that I wrote this post when I was in a pretty dark place.   What you read was the outpouring caused by a mix of ministry work and real life.  Rather than thinking about funerals, I should have went and worked on the bike, or played spot the appendage on snapshot Serengeti, or done something secular, and possibly even sacrilegious.  In fact I did try.  Yesterday afternoon I spent time in a brewery where, according to Session records, the former minister of one of the churches I have spoken in actually banned the brewers from stirring their beer on the sabbath. 

So I need to be caring, then be able to find my own space and care for myself.

Funeral

I'm not really wanting to blog right now.  If the truth be known, I'm not really enjoying myself right now, for any number of reasons.  Placement is fine.  My supervisor is friendly, supportive, willing to push my boundaries, and has a pretty good knowledge of what is going on in his congregation, presbytery, denomination and the wider world.  The congregation is a reasonably normal CofS crowd, with the expected mix of characters that you will find in any gathering of a few hundred adults. 

But there's still a few things bothering me.  Ministry now seems a long way off, and there seems to be a frightening amount of work to do before I get there.  Reading the OLM training manual hasn't made it any easier as there is a lot in there.  Then there is the paperwork, covenants to be agreed and goals to be set. Goals are a problem.  In general, if you set a goal and don't achieve it, then that is a failure, but if you have a range of experience, but these don't relate to your goals, then can you still have success. what about just trying to have experience,knowing that everything ultimately is useful?

This week I was asked to take part in a funeral.  right from the outset I was to have a speaking part on the day, and i was initially offered the tribute.  I have never attempted to write a funeral tribute before, and only ever been present on one occasion when one was being created.  It was eventually agreed that I would deliver a couple of readings and prayers during the service, and I would write the tribute. 

The funeral was a parish funeral for someone who had a family that lived all over the country.  It wasn't going to be a very big gathering at the crematorium.  When Stephen and I visited the lady, I was grateful that her son had written some notes to become a tribute.  All I had to do was convert the comprehensive notes into a format suitable for spoken delivery. The prayers actually included part of the order for baptism, about being born again into newness of life. 

So for the past week I have been shitting myself.  There are so many ways I could have got it wrong, and only a couple of ways to get things right.  When I do a sermon, I can usually rely n there being a caring congregation that will laugh at the mistakes, and support me. I was a complete stranger to everyone in the room.  Despite having Stephen doing most of the service, because he is the one that actually looks like a minister, I just couldn't get over the nerves.  I know I gave a clear delivery, and the transition between the two of us went fine, I just couldn't get comfortable, and even after coming home, the tension just would not go away.

I really don't want to do any more funerals.  I'm supposed to be bringing God's comfort to the family and friends of the deceased, yet it doesn't feel like I've done that.  I suppose, like anything else, it might get better with practice, it's just that I'd rather not get the practice.

Facebook

Beheading is good!

Breasts are bad!

Yet another reason why I'm not on Facebook.  

Real Fire

One of our criteria for a manse is it must have a real fire.

Missing Children

In the UK a child is reported missing every three minutes.  That's around 140,000 every year, and most of these are not mentioned in the press.  The UK Missing Kids website maintains a list of missing children, many of whom have been missing for decades.  There are nine children listed that went missing in 2007, and are still missing.  Can you name two of them?

Some of the UK's missing have run away, some have been taken abroad by parents, some are involved in human trafficking, some end up on the streets, and some end up dead.  Looking out for the missing  and helping those on the streets is something we need to be doing, because it's rare that any of them get publicity.  You only ever hear about the white ones.


 While some of the missing in the USA version of this video were found, at least one was murdered by  the child's mother.  The UK version of this video featured two of Peter Tobin's victims.

Don't have nightmares.

Placement Begiins

So I started my placement the other week at Lowry (North) church.  It wasn't my first choice of placement, but it was getting difficult finding places where I hadn't already lead worship, been on placement, or been at Mrs Gerbil's placement.  I had planned on avoiding Lowry (North) as the minister was my presbytery rep for my meetings with 121, however 121 had other ideas.

So, I met with Stephen, the minister, and he gave me the guided tour.  There's plenty to keep me busy, with the usual fayre of Board, Session and Guild.  A pretty good selection of youth groups, three schools, a couple of care homes, and a group of Methodists that are having their church renovated and will be using Lowry (North) for worship.  There's also a regular cafe that does a pretty reasonable bowl of soup, and once they learn that vegetables are the devil's excrement, and that side salad never belongs on a plate, then their plain cheese sandwiches will be prefect.

So I can see things I want to learn, things that will challenge me, and things I want to change. I am trying to get all the daytime things visited early on.  I am getting a bit bored with retirement, so I am looking for a bit of work.  Three job interviews are coming over the next 7 days.  We'll see what happens with them.

Dead Saints

A little bit freaky...

The short version.  Take a dead dude.  Excavate. Decorate.  Venerate.

The one that is second from the bottom, I was expecting it to come to life and say "Jack, I want you to draw me like one of your French girls..."

Normal blogging about placement etc begins again soon...

RIP Psion

This is the remains of my Psion Series 5.  For its day it was a very powerful pocket computer, and it would still give modern computers a run for their money. 

The keyboard wasn't much smaller than the netbook keyboard I'm using today, yet the clamshell design meant it folded down into a very neat package. You could easily touch type, which was a very useful thing, as it came complete with a full office package that was compatible with Microsoft Office, yet it ran on a tiny memory.  It could multi-task, and it even had a mobile browser.  Touch screen technology and a with a bit of persuasion it could even do handwriting recognition.  You think ebooks are new?  I was reading them in 1998 on this.  The majority of my HND was written through this machine.  Internet wasn't a problem, as it would connect to a dial up modem, or even wireless through my mobile phone.

This was a highly efficient design  Two AA batteries would last me a couple of days, even if I was using rechargeable batteries.  They made every byte of memory count.

But it does have its downside.  For Psion, the predecessor to the Series 5, the Series 3 family were very well built machines with a loyal following.  People were reluctant to switch over to a new device when the one they were using was still serving them well.  And for me, the end of my Psion was when the screen cable died.  The clever folding design had a weak point in that the ribbon cable between screen and motherboard would give way.  Out of warranty, this was an expensive repair, so after nearly four years of daily use, I had to retire my Psion. 

I managed to track down a replacement screen cable the other day, and I was going to attempt a fix, but I'm afraid this Psion is too far gone.  Deeper investigation revealed a couple of problems that I must have caused myself somewhere along the way.

It's just a shame that Psion is no longer in the palmtop computer market any more.  I am yet to find a machine that is as functional as the Psion. 

Rest in pieces Psion Series 5, you served me well.

Flamed.

I was at a church meeting the other day, and as is the norm (or should be) in church gatherings, there was a lot of praying.  As the speaker proceeded, from a couple of rows behind me, someone threw in the occasional loud "Amen" whenever he found a particular point spiritually agreeable.  I know the guy.  He was at one of the fifty churches I've visited this year and he's a pleasant chap.  Very confident in his faith. We'll call him Trevor

As is also the norm in the church, once you have been to one meeting, you are sooner or later going to find yourself at another meeting.  And normally there are one or two faces from the first meeting at the second.  So at the second meeting, two men from the first meeting came over and we had the "don't I know you from somewhere" conversation.  When the topic of the first meeting came up, one of the men mentioned Trevor and his "Amen's" That was when the second man said to the first that Trevor belonged in the Baptists, not the CofS, to which the first man agreed.  Well I wasn't standing for this.  I flamed them.  I told them in no uncertain terms that we needed more people in the CofS that are so spiritually confident and who are so certain in their faith.  We needed more people who were so outgoing about their Christianity, and that there was nothing worse than a group of dour sounding church members expressing their joy in Christ's saving grace.  We need to be more alive.

And the two men.  One is a Minister, the other I think is a Session Clerk. 

If you find yourself wishing someone would leave the church, I think it's you that has the problem, so you might not want to let the door hit you on the way out.  We should be prayerfully including all comers, and giving welcome to all who wish to join in.

Amen to that.

Year 2 Conference

I don't do mornings.  Speaking to me before the second mug of tea is a bad idea.  I don't do conversation before 9am, so conference breakfast can be awkward.  There should be a separate area reserved for grumpy old bastards like myself where we can sit, ignore each other and eat our Weetabix in silence.  So despite getting to the canteen as it opened, and sitting at the far side of the hall from everyone else, and with my back to them, someone will always come over and tell me that I can't have breakfast on my own.  A statement that they then prove by sitting down with me.  I'm happy to talk at lunch, dinner, over coffee, or even in the pub, but please, can I just start the day my way?


This conference was the last time I will be at conference with the third years.  I've known these people since Mrs Gerbil started training, so it will be odd next year not having them around.  But we did get to meet the new trainees, and unlike last year, they were around for the whole weekend, having had their own conference a fortnight or so before.  Next year, I am in the third year.  How did that happen?

There are now four more trainee ministers that have been on the back of the bike.  That's six in a year!  Should my next project be Fifty Pillion Reverends?

The theme of conference for my year group was on worship.  For many of us, we have been leading parts of worship throughout our enquiry process and placements for a number of years, not to mention any worship we have delivered in or former lives.  It could seem a little late in the day to be receiving this training, but I believe that the training in pastoral care I was given in last years conference should be the subject of the first year.  I have had more pastoral encounters over the past 12 months than I have delivered worship, so the order of conference training seems fine.  The content of the worship training was ideal.  We have all had different experience of worship, and it was good to bounce ideas around and really consider why we do things in worship, and in what order they occur. 

When discussing the creation of a worship space, in amongst my notes, scribbled in a hand that never actually writes anything down in pen and ink was a line that said "(interaction of time space and thought? Creates thin spaces?)"  I shared this with a colleague over a pint and they asked if I had came up with that myself.  I had to confess it was partly a Star Trek plot, and partly a sermon that Beachblesser delivered last year.  I'm not sure if I have an original thought in my head, just lots of recycled ideas.  And they are more Sci-fi than theological.  Live long and prosper.

Former moderator Albert Bogle delivered our opening session.  He's a man of great ideas, and had plenty to say about using technology for mission.  While in many ways I agree that the church should not lag too far behind in using modern technology to deliver its message, we may differ in the way we see change being accepted in our congregations.  I have been surprised this year to discover that many younger people prefer more traditional styles of worship, preferring the stability that can be taken from a more structured liturgy. 

In other news, the regular worship was pleasant.  While a band did form by the end of the second day, the first acts of worship saw us singing unaccompanied.  We are a surprisingly tuneful bunch, and the collective human voice is actually a great sound.  Despite having some exceptionally skilled musicians amongst us, including an outstanding harpist with her portable harp (specially commissioned to be lightweight) I think I preferred the unaccompanied singing.

It was one of the final sessions that I got the most out of.  Due to a small communication error, I wasn't even supposed to be around at the preaching workshop which took place after the OLM's were supposed to leave.  But I had a spare sermon in my folder, so I was given the chance to receive feedback on one of my sermons.  It was the one at the end of my post from 18th November 2012 on silence.  I had others on my tablet, but this was the one that seemed to suit a small, reflective audience.  But it was one of my fellow candidates that delivered the most memorable lesson of the weekend.  She was actually at my first enquirers conference back in 2008, but the process of her getting to this stage has taken a long time.  I'm not going to give away more about her, as ministry is a small world.  What I can say is that she read out a letter she had written.  The reading of this letter really took me back to the early churches, where correspondence was the way the churches grew.  On the table before her, there was a few items from her parish, including a small scrap of wood with a bent nail in it.  There are a couple of bent nails in my shed, and a lot of them in my parents garage.  Bent nails are useful things.  They might not be useful for joining things together any more, but they are great for hanging things up.  Or the bent nail that kept the gearbox in my Dad's Mini working.

Lesson for the weekend.  God has a use for bent nails like us.

Water Into wine

 

It's been a great season this year for hedge fruit.  Raspberries, wild strawberries and brambles have all done amazingly well, and we are right into the bramble season just now.  By bramble, I mean the wild blackberry that is found on waste ground, although international readers may refer to many hedge fruits as brambles. You may wish to have a look at the wiki entry on brambles as it all gets confusing.  I didn't know there were so many varieties.

Home winemaking has started to take off again, pioneered my small health food shops, such as my main supplier, Stirling Health Foods.  Even the larger stores such as Tesco and Lakeland are getting in on the act, but you can't beat speaking to an expert, when it comes to getting started.  Boots used to have a large part of their stores reserved for home brewing, but that went a long time ago.  If you want to get into the hobby, you can get a starter kit for £35 which will make around 6 bottles.  After that, most of the kit is reusable, so you could experiment with the free fruit that is bursting forth just now.

The best places to find brambles are railway embankments (disused preferably) or Victorian graveyards.  If you happen to have a west facing railway embankment that borders a Victorian graveyard then you can pick a couple of kilos of fruit in about 30 minutes.  Or so I am told....

Why not have a look at my recipe for bramble wine...

If You Do That Again I'll Cut Off Your Fingers!

Microphone users, I'm watching you...

This is the inside of a failed radio microphone plug.  There are actually two broken wires here, one in the plug itself, and another near the right crocodile clip that was causing an intermittent crackling sound.  An hour of careful soldering, heat-shrinking and testing later and the microphone is back in working order.

Over the past year I have seen a complete lack of respect for microphones.  I've seen them swung around by their cables, antennae used as a handle to haul them out of pockets, and when they are finished, the wire is tightly wrapped around the transmitter.  The wires used in microphones are exceptionally thin, thinner than the cheap earbud headphones that come with MP3 players.  They have to be thin, so they are unobtrusive, but this makes them fragile. It would be possible to replace the wire with the orange cable from a flymo, but that might be excessive...

So now having repaired a couple of microphones, I am warning microphone users everywhere that I will forgive you for swinging the microphone around by either of its cables, but only after I have cut off one your fingers.  I know I'm supposed to forgive you 77 times, but I'm sure you will get the hint after the tenth digit. 

Fifty Acts of Worship. A Review.

I have spent the last year trying to attend as many different acts of worship as possible.  For most churchgoers, fifty acts in a year is not that hard, after all, you will probably attend church most weeks, with additional services at Easter, Christmas, and if you are lucky a wedding, or unlucky a funeral.  The problem I have is that I'm supposed to be training for the ministry, so my attendance at worship is going to be pretty limited from now on.  Next month I start my first placement, and while I will be present during worship, I'm going to be working.  I've been lucky to have been in a position where I can devote a year to observing such a variety of worship.

I'm in a fortunate position to be in the central belt, about an hour from Glasgow and half an hour from Edinburgh.  The time I have spent up north recently has shown that some people take having an abundance of churches for granted. In the central belt, often if you think your local church is too liberal or conservative for your tastes, you can go over the road to another.  Go outwith the central belt, and you may already have to travel some miles to get to a church.  While it is sad to see empty churches in rural areas, I visited a couple of clearance villages over the summer, and these would have had many hundreds in their population, and all attending the local church.  Once the land was cleared for sheep farming, the houses were demolished, the people relocated to the coastal fringes or beyond, and all that is left to show there was once a thriving population is a disused church. 

If the church, and not just the Church of Scotland, wishes to continue to serve the most vulnerable in our society, then it should be ensuring that there are flexible and dynamic forms of ministry that will serve those who are in need of the help of the church.  I'm not entirely sure if I'm being called to a rural area, and in some ways I hope not, but I'd at least like to be able to work with other denominations to bring God's church to our communities.  This year has demonstrated that there are congregations from all backgrounds who wish to work together, not just in rural areas, but in our towns as well.  Street pastors and food banks are operated by churches for the welfare of our entire communities.  It's a joy to see people working as a team, regardless of their faith background.

When it comes to worship, we are not that different.  We may think that the Catholic and Episcopal churches are very structured, and that the reformed churches have done away with all that.  In actual fact, we have our own structures, and there will be complaints if the running order changes from one week to the next..   If you want to keep a congregation on its toes, thrown in an extra hymn.  What about the independent churches?  Well they are roughly the same, and while the music may be more modern, and the songs tend to come in groups of three, you are still prayerfully lead towards a sermon, and remember in prayer those in the world around us.  And somewhere, the offering will be received.

Throughout the year, I've been made exceptionally welcome. In a year where the Church of Scotland has continued its debates on sexuality, the fact that I am a part of the CofS has not caused me to be shunned by those I have met.  I have had the question "Are you saved???" asked of me a few times, and while I have often been tempted to answer with "Well I'll be fracked if I know.  How about you?" I'm pretty confident that I'm not the worst person that will ever approach the  pearly gates.  Perhaps a couple of people may have seemed a little convinced that their attendance at a particular congregation gets them some extra heavenly brownie points, but other members of these congregations as a whole are not so hard-line in their attitudes.

I have seen some great examples of community action.  In a small independent congregation I heard about the mission work they support, but also from within the congregation how they would pull together to give practical help to those in need, in particular with organising a flitting for a young mother who had been granted a housing association flat.  I'd like to take the community spirit that often exists amongst smaller congregations and try to ensure this till takes place in larger ones.  That people can feel a part of a community, without feeling they are in too big a group to be helped.

Church tea is a bit hit or miss, wherever you go.  Honestly, I'm not going to spill it, so please fill my small cup more than half full.  And you will need more than one teabag for that gallon teabag.  Tea leaves are hand picked by hard working women, so their careful effort should not be vain. 

Church pews are often a pain in the proverbials, regardless where you go.  I may invest in a comfy cushion. 

In general though, it's ben a year of hope.  Church attendance may be down, but what is left is a strong core that is a good guide to the local demographics.  I was pleased to attend a church the other week that was full of young families, and the church was at the centre of a new and growing community.  And that's where churches are and should continue to be God's church should be grounded in fait, at the heart of our communities, while reaching out to those on the fringes of society and giving care.  We shouldn't be doing this with an aim to get bums on seats, but instead sharing the love because God first loved us.  Fifty acts of worship later has shown that the worship isn't actually the important thing, but instead it's how we take that message out into the communities, and work together as one church for the benefit of all those around us.

The new project starts in September. Watch this space...

Fifty Acts 50. At Last, The Methodists.

I've been trying to fit the Methodists into my schedule for a long time, but other congregations got in the way.  The Methodists have the honour of being the fiftieth act.

The reason I wanted to go to this congregation came from an event a few years ago.  I was delivering church flyers round a new housing estate,, and was getting a good response.  Lots of young families interested in the playgroup, toddlers groups and Scouts that were running in the church.  But when we got to one door, the owner was pretty grumpy.  He said...

"I tried Lane End church, and you weren't friendly.  Then I tried the Methodists, but they were too friendly.  Now we don't go at all!"

Well this got me interested and I had to do something.  Not about the unfriendliness of my own church, but instead, I wanted to find out how a church could be branded as too friendly.  So with that gauntlet laid down, I deided to visit the Methodists, albeit with about four years of procrastination. You shouldn't rush these things.

So the welcome was friendly.  Not over friendly, just friendly.  Perhaps they have mellowed...    We were certainly made to feel part of the congregation.  Typically, like so many of the preceding acts, the real minister was elsewhere, so it was a URC minister that lead worship.  Communion was celebrated, and we all gathered round the table, a nice gathering, but may draw attention to those who don't feel they can join in.  Everything seemed to be going well.

Except, it almost went wrong.  The minister had lost her car keys and she arrived very close to the start of the service, apologising to us for the delay. She was sharp, but not late.  And then someone came over to talk to the person behind me to ask if they could remember to pick up a bottle of Communion wine as they had run out.  Someone had been sent out to get a bottle of Ribena which was a blessing, as alcohol free Communion wine is howfing.Grape juice does not need sugar added to it, and yet the last time I had alcohol free wine, this is what it tasted like.

While the minister read from her Ipad, one of the readers used the bible on her phone.  I think I would advise against this, as it meant her reading was a little disjointed and didn't flow.  Although to her credit, at least she was taking an active part in the service, something many people do not feel confident in doing.

So in all, it was a nice congregation, a pleasant service, and a reasonably good cup of tea afterwards.

For the Birds

So Mrs G's summer placement is over and she's back home.  I'm sure she will tell you all about it pretty soon.  But what about the important story of the summer.  What about the birds?

Well there was this one...

A red kite.  A long way north of where anyone expects them to be.  And there was a pair of them.  

But no, you are more interested in the three gulls, Augustine, Luther and Foxy-Knoxy.  Well of the first two,  as I've mentioned before, they didn't survive abandonment by the parents and the heatwave.  Foxy-Knoxy seemed to keep alive by rooting for bugs in the manse garden (and probably the odd maggot from his fallen brethren - yeuch!) and was drinking from an overflowing drain.  Occasionally he would fly off in the direction of the beach, returning to the garden at night.

As we packed the car on the last day, he was nowhere to be seen.  However as I made a final sweep of the house, from the bedroom I saw him...

That's Foxy-Knoxy.  He has managed to land in such a position as to interfere with play on the 18th green.  Had I been quicker with the camera you would have seen a golfer chip her shot over him as he was in between her ball and the flag.  So having been a hazard in our garden all summer, he has gone over the road to be a hazard on the golf course.  Not the biggest hazard on that course, as there are cows grazing and electric fences surround the greens.

And he owes his continuing existence to the fact that there are no cats in the village.  Next year he, or his family may be the problem of a new minister.  Until I see him again, I wish him well.

Go Home or Face Arrest

The Home Office called me today, and the lady on the phone seemed a little surprised to have encountered a Scottish accent on the other end of the phone. 

It all started in the pub on Friday night. The TV in the corner played a story about the complaints relating to a Home Office advert, so now I'm probably the only person living in the UK that has actually texted the home office for assistance in my deportation as a result of the offensive billboard campaign they ran in London.  I've not been abroad for a while, so I was hoping the Home Office would give me a hand in traveling somewhere interesting.  A few minites, and another pint later, this text arrived.

Then today, the lady from the Home Office phoned up and asked if I would like assistance to go home.  It's very nice of organisations that you would like to raise an objection with to phone you directly.  It saves you getting passed from pillar to post and being kept on hold for ages.  So I've raised my objection to the advert campaign with the Home Office directly.  It's diet racism, one calorie, not quite the whole racism, but it's still racism.  It is telling communities that whether or not you are here legally, we aren't that happy about having you.  When the economy is in the doldrums, it's very easy to demonise immigrants, with the "coming over here, taking our jobs" bull that the far right will regularly drag up.I wonder if there are to be more campaigns based on a far right protest manual from the 1970's?

Unless ordinary UK citizens start raising their objections to this campaign, then things will get worse. Do you want to live in a country where state sponsored racism is the norm?  Campaigns like this are the thin end of the wedge.  Have a word with the Home Office, I'm sure they would love to hear from you.

Racism sucks.

Vintage Photography

You may have seen one of these in an antique shop...

It's a Kodak Autographic Brownie camera, dating from around 1924.  This was a very good model for its day, having two shutter speeds plus a bulb and timed setting, plus an aperture that was variable down to f64 and it even had an early form of data back - you could write on the negative using a stylus and its special pressure sensitive film would transfer the text to the printed image.  The negative is 56x84mm compared with 24x36 for 35mm film.  That's also bigger than IMAX at 70x48.5mm This gives you a very high quality, negative where the grain is hardly noticeable, even in the largest of enlargements.  This particular example was given to me by my uncle many years ago.  He rescued it before it was thrown out.

You can still get film for these cameras, but in this digital age, buying a roll of film that will only give you 8 exposures may seem like a waste of time, money and effort.  But nowadays, people are coming back to film photography for a variety of reasons.  It's an art form that has a completely different feel to digital photography.  Black and White photos seem to have deeper blacks, and smoother tones than images that have been shot digitally, converted to monochrome and printed on a colour printer.

I studied monochrome photography at college, and while I was never a great photographer, I really enjoyed the process of creating an image out of light and chemistry.   It was a conversation with Carolyn Lefley,  an artist that has been in residence in a nearby heritage centre that got me thinking about getting back into film photography.  Amongst other things, she had been working with a special type of photographic emulsion that can be painted on to objects and the results look amazing.  I've not got the space to get back into doing the full wet process, but I thought about putting a couple of rolls of film through my oldest camera to see what would happen.

The thing about film photography is that it stops you rushing.  There is a tendency with digital photography to charge ahead, check the preview image on the camera and if it's not OK, just snap another one.  Using a camera that has a fixed film speed (Ilford FP4 shot at 64 ISO and HP5 at 200 ISO), a choice of two shutter speeds (1/25 and 1/50 plus B and T) and a viewfinder that only gives a suggestion of what the image will look like makes you really think about composing your subject.  A tripod is also a necessity.  And as for onboard light metering, forget it.  You need a hand held meter and also a willing assistant to lug all your kit around.

The film was processed in a lab in Edinburgh then scanned.  Prints were also made, although these were printed on a colour mini-lab, and this does not give the same rich blacks that you get from a genuine monochrome print.

I have a bulk roll of 35mm monochrome film sitting.  I think it's time I got the old cameras back into use once more, and this time I'll do the processing myself.  And I feel like rescuing some more vintage cameras and bringing them back into use.  I really fancy a Mamiya C330.  Please join my campaign to save the silver halide.

The images are below.  Unfortunately the light seals or the bellows seem to be leaking light, and the lens itself seems to be squint, giving a tilt/shift effect. Of all the images, the first three seem to have fared the best, as the light was failing towards the end of the day.  Still, it's not too bad for a 90 year old camera that was destined for the bin.

We'll let the digital Nikon have the last word...