Fifty Acts 36. It's Like The Burlesque Show...

I'll explain the title later...

Today I revisited a church I visited at the start of this project.  To gain an extra perspective on things, I took along select members of the Gerbil Appreciation Society.  My Mum, Mum's friend, my Mother in Law, and my Godmother.

We all agreed that the guest preacher was outstanding.  Clear, with a no nonsense preaching style who was clearly capable of making even the most assured Christian re-examine their chances of salvation and to make them turn from their wicked ways.

And while the welcome on the door was friendly, there was no clear start to the service.  Atr the front of the church, between the pews and the pulpit, the raised floor was fully occupied by two guitarists and three singers, with the communion table shoved off into a corner.  It felt more like a concert than an act of worship.  Now I've seen many praise bands on this trip, and they have mainly been off to one side, or felt part of the worship.  This just felt disjointed.  After each couple of songs, the guitarist felt he needed to tell us what we should be thinking about.  Then after the sermon, he took it upon himself to explain exactly what we should now be thinking after listening to the preacher's message.  Really?  I'll decide what I want to think, thanks very much.

As the Gerbil Appreciation Society put it.  "it was like that burlesque show I went to see.  I've seen it once, and that was enough."

I never thought the comparison could be made between worship and a burlesque show.  I'm glad everyone this morning remained fully clad...

Next week I'm heading north.

Is this the Wedding Business?

One weekend in 2003 I asked not one, but two women to marry me.  They both said yes...

I was leafing through a wedding directory the other day.  As an internationally published photographer who has done more than a few weddings, I think it's important I keep an eye on the market.  Something got me a little annoyed...

Not too far from where I live, there's a former country house that is set up as a wedding venue.  The former family chapel is lovely.   The grounds are very picturesque, with a variety of locations that will keep the photographer happy, and the venue will feed you, give you a massive reception room, and put you up for the night as well.  Their business is weddings, they aren't cheap, but they are clearly focused on their core business.

So what's the business of a church?  What's out mission statement?  "To proclaim the Gospel of Jesus Christ" says a church in England.  That seems like a good start.

What got me annoyed was an advert in the wedding directory for a church seeking to drum up business as a destination for your wedding day.  The advert invites you to use this particular church to have your wedding  in an old building, surrounded by history.  According to the advert, apparently it's a special place.  What makes it more special than the country house mentioned up the page?  Can there be any one thing that makes a church different from the family chapel in the hotel up the page?

There is nothing at all in this advert that says it's a Christian church, or to which denomination it belongs.  No God, no nothing.  It might as well be the back room of the local pub.  This is a church.  The one thing that makes it special is that the ceremony will be conducted by an ordained minister, in the presence of God.  I'm looking at the wedding section book of Common Order and it would be impossible to remove God from the wedding order without ripping the whole wedding ceremony apart.  And while I want to help welcome everyone into God's kingdom, if you are only getting married in a church because it's got a long aisle, or it's somewhere to be seen, and if you really don't believe in the God part, then fine, go to the hotel.  If you aren't going to say "I do" with sincerity to the whole vow, then I think you've invalidated your wedding vows before you've even cut the cake.

In their sales pitch, by leaving out any mention of the Christian body that they form part of, I believe this church has sold themselves out.  They might as well take down the cross and market themselves as a picturesque wedding venue.

And another thing.  If you do want to market yourselves, then at the very least you need a contact email address that looks a bit professional and is attached to the business, such as enquiries @ countrychurch dotcom.  Never use a personal email address belonging to one of your congregation. Create even a simple website. And hire a designer to do your adverts - it makes a big difference.  If you want to compete in the wedding market, you need to be at the top of your game.  You look live you've thrown together an advert in a desperate pitch for cash.

We are not in the wedding business.  We should not be trawling for trade. We are God's church that is blessed when a couple decide to have God at the centre of their special day. 

Fifty Acts 35. Up a Close.

"Hello, have you been before?  Would you like a cup of tea?"

So that's two criteria ticked off the list.  Warm welcome and a pleasant brew. 

I've been aware of this church for quite some time, as it's off a close between the high street and a pleasant coffee shop.  I wasn't aware it had been there for so long, as it looks like next year they will celebrate their centenary.  They follow the Brethren tradition of worship, although what that is exactly, I'm yet to find out.  Certainly the service was familiar, with hymns from Mission Praise, Gospel readings and a lesson, this morning from a guest speaker.  As I understand it, there's no minister, as the preachers are drawn from the congregations.

The demographic was broadly similar to that of an average CofS gathering.  Older, with a sprinkling of young families.  What you noticed immediately was the sense of community, with people circulating ad chatting. 

I was feeling a little under-dressed.  Everyone was in their Sunday best.  The women mostly wore hats, and the men were mainly in suits.  I was in my Sunday comfortable, which bears a striking similarity to the rest of my wardrobe.   Besides, I only wear a suit when I'm using the Halo effect to skew a situation in my favour. 

I did get one of my favourite questions this morning.  When you mention a CofS connection, occasionally someone will ask "Oh...  Are you saved?"  Apparently there is a perception that some ministers aren't, although isn't it God that's the judge of all that?  Do people think we're in this gig for the money or something?

I would have liked to have had a bit more time to chat this morning, but after the service, people headed off to the rest of their Sunday. I was asked to their bible study, but unfortunately I had other plans for this evening.  Perhaps that's an act for another time.

Fifty Acts 34. Opening Up

This was the second of my two stints at Fieldside and Lane End.

Today just seemed to flow, everything felt right, and I felt that God really had a role for me this morning.  Yes, the rain and wind mad the ride on the bike unpleasant, but after I had got into Fieldside, something just lifted.  If there's one thing I need to do, it's to remember to remove the chair from the pulpit in Fieldside.  The lectern sits quite low, and the height adjuster seems to have went astray.  So you are forced to look down on your notes.  By removing the chair I'd be able to stand back and feel less like I'm looking down.

But it was after Lane End that something odd happened.  As I met people after the service, one person asked if he could have a quiet word.   I invited him to stay for a brew and we got talking.  He was aware that I wasn't the real minister, and we agreed that the real minister would be better placed to help him out.  The actual content of the conversation is one of those pastoral things, so it's not getting written down, but it was a privilege that he trusted me with his story. 

So while I'd like to be able to help more, with his consent, I've put him in contact with the people best placed to give him the advice he needs.  The important part of today was not me talking at 200+ folk, but in listening to 1 person.  I pray he finds the answer he needs.

Fifty Acts 33. In Which a Gerbil Becomes an International Broadcaster

I've known what I was going to say this week for a while now.  I knew that when this particular set of readings came round, exactly what I'd talk about.  So that made it all the harder to write the sermon.

The problem was, I just couldn't find a way to say exactly what I wanted to say.  Coupled with the fact that I can't write anything at all when faced with a blank page.  So this was a slow sermon to write.  Once I had written something on the page, the words started to flow, but until I've written something then nothing will be written.  This usually means that the first paragraph to be written is a stream of consciousness that rarely, if ever reaches the final cut. 

The lesson for next week is to drink more.  I probably gave it a bit much when doing the 9.30 at Fieldside, so I was a little dry at Lane End, leading to a pause for a coughing fit mid way through the sermon. 

So the question is, would I have changed anything if I knew I was being broadcast?  I received an email saying the local hospital radio broadcasts the recording of the Lane End service in the evening.  So it was really odd going to their streaming service and hearing myself.  I'm a well known figure in British broadcasting circles, having once appeared in the crowd for Songs of Praise, but this was the first time the international audience has had the chance to dump me and tune to something more interesting.  And I've often been told I have a face for radio.

I'm sorry, but just like Ringo Star, I won't be answering any fan mail.  :-)

Angry Gerbil

The phone rang thirty minutes ago. Note the time of this blog post.

"Hello, this is Ripp, Off and Screwem Energy.  You can get a grant to fit solar panels.  To opt out of this service, press one, or to get one of our sales staff to pester you out of your life savings, press one and they will call you at a suitably awkward time"

I don't want anyone phoning me at this time of night.  If you phone after 9pm, it better be important, or you will be getting a very frosty reception. Important means somebody is dead.  Actually, dead is not important, as they will still be dead in the morning.  Phone me after 8am.  Important means they were dead and there has been a sudden change in circumstances.  Press button one for the second coming or two for the zombie uprising.  There is nothing so important it can't wait until morning.

If you are troubled by unpleasant voices in the night, the Information Commissioner's Office would love to hear from you. The Telephone Preference Service may reduce some calls.

(Un)Employment

As of today, I am no longer a Civil Servant.  I have taken redundancy, so I have a P45 stating my last day of work to be 31/3/2013.  On April Fools Day, I am starting in earnest my search for work, mainly because I'm going to get bored very quickly otherwise.

Also on the feast day of Saint Gilbert (famed for defeating a dragon and whose relics were venerated until the Reformation), one of my good friends is starting employment today and I wish them all the best, as they have been training for years to get to this stage.  You'll be awesome.

So, between the two of us, we have had no effect on the levels of unemployment in the UK.  This may in some way be an act of balance on a cosmic level.  Or it's just one of those things.