Busy weekend. Part 3

And then came Sunday.

Through a roundabout way, I was told that we had someone in tears after the Student Feed.

She had been refused admission to cafes in the local area because she may have looked a bit undesireable. And then she met us.

Like the complete shower of [nasty people] we are, we gave her soup and bread. And that was it.

She can't have been that distinctive, as, based on the description I was given, nobody remembers her.

She must have been expecting some reaction, but we made her happy by not treating her like shit.

So we made her cry.

I hope she'll be back. And next time...

We'll probably give her soup.

Busy Weekend. Part 2

Mrs G mentioned it already but when you get a chance for parking in St Andrews, you've just got to take advantage of it.  We had driven to St Andrews on the bike, and when we arrived, there were a group of Honda Goldwings parked up, and their owners were rattling a tin for Cancer Research.  They waved me over and asked me to add my 'wing to their display.  Unfortunately, I believe that muck adds a few mph at the top end, so I'm reluctant to chip the muck off for anyone.  So there I was parked alongside some stunning examples of the art of custom motorcycle building, with a bike that was so filthy, the grand-daughter of one of the bikers told me to wash my bike before taking it out again. That's me told then...

All the kids liked my bike though.  Probably something to do with the box of sweets on the back.

The Goldwing Misfits are a really great bunch of folk that enjoy their bikes, and use their time, talents and resources to help out other folk.  And they were having a whole load of fun at the same time. Something everyone should consider.

Silence

Could you get away with a completely silent sermon?  Perhaps an introductory thought, a closing prayer, and in the middle,


nothing.

Perfect reflective calm.

How long before everyone got bored?

Could it last ten minutes?

Twenty?

Perhaps this is something better suited to a smaller group.

I'll save this for a week when the sermon is lacking in the word count...

Productive, part one.

A busy weekend.  Loads going on.

Hillside Kirk had its prayer breakfast, at the unholy hour of 9am on Saturday.  Now despite us all sitting in the same hall that us used for the serving of tea and coffee on a Sunday, it was more relaxed.  I took a seat off in the corner so I could work out the groups and social norms at this occasion, and it was clear that some people took seats closer to the serving hatch than others.  On my side of the room, most people had something to eat before they came out, so perhaps the serving hatch group did not have this foresight. 

I was glad to have a seat next to Beverley.  Beverley welcomes everyone on a Sunday, and always looks out for the older folks, despite her being a few years past 21 herself.   Every kirk needs a Beverley, and I was glad to have a few moments of pleasant blether.  I'd also managed to have a blether with someone who told me about the bike he ownedjust after the war.  Bikers sort of gather together.

So after an exceptional breakfast, we had a session of prayers, minister led, but with spontaneous input from others present.  It was nice just to have a period of reflective calm, as it's something we just don't do that often. 

I've not had any involvement in many acts of worship away from the church setting.  In this group, the prayers felt a part of the morning, not just something tacked on after a bacon roll.  I'm aware that this will not work everywhere, but it was obviously popular at Hillside.

I'm now official.

This evening I had a meeting with Kathryn, the minister at Hillside Kirk as I'm at the end of my extended enquiry.  After a short pause to find the correct form (must organise paperwork), and subject to 121 doing their bit, I'm now officially taking part in a Coordinated Field Assessment, looking to follow the path of the Ordained Local Ministry

I'm aware that I've had a lot of support, from Mrs G, Kathryn, everyone at Hillside, and all the folks that I've asked for advice over the past couple of months.  So I'd be letting them down if I didn't give this my all.  And I genuinely believe that God is steering me along and giving me opportunities, so I don't want to let him down.  I really think there is a minister shaped hole out there waiting for me to fill it.

Actually, I'm rather looking forward to being a bit more involved in things at Hillside, and I'll be taking careful notes.  It's all an adventure.

Cafe entry removed

One cafe I used to frequent has stopped serving fair trade tea and coffee.  Fine, but you aren't getting a link from this blog any more.

If you are making £8,000 surplus per year from your volunteer staffed cafe, then you can afford a fair trade teabag.

Don't screw the tea and coffee growers.

Or me.

Post will be reinstated when ethics becomes the norm.

Don't make stuff up (part one)

The worship group had command of the vessel today, and they did a very good job.  It's good to be in a church where everyone can be a part of the worship should the so desire.  They had an obvious theme, they stick to it, and in all, the whole thing went well. So hats off to them for getting up there and doing their stuff.

The one bit I didn't like (and this is nothing against the worship group) was a tale told from the perspective of Judas after Judas has killed himself.    Victor Kiam said of Remington, he liked it so much, he bought the company.  I disliked this tale so much, I bought the book it came from.  So once the book arrives, I'll re-read it and write about why I disliked it.

I just think Judas gets a bit of a bad press...

Steve Jobs.

A fitting obituary from The Onion

"CUPERTINO, CA—Steve Jobs, the visionary co-founder of Apple Computers and the only American in the country who had any clue what the f*** he was doing, died Wednesday at the age of 56. "We haven't just lost a great innovator, leader, and businessman, we've literally lost the only person in this country who actually had his shit together and knew what the hell was going on," a statement from President Barack Obama read in part, adding that Jobs will be remembered both for the life-changing products he created and for the fact that he was able to sit down, think clearly, and execute his ideas—attributes he shared with no other U.S. citizen. "This is a dark time for our country, because the reality is none of the 300 million or so Americans who remain can actually get anything done or make things happen. Those days are over." Obama added that if anyone could fill the void left by Jobs it would probably be himself, but said that at this point he honestly doesn’t have the slightest notion what he’s doing anymore." (source)

However, even The Onion couldn't be this ironic...

Source

Expheckinscuseme?

After a pleasant morning at Hillside Kirk, I went round to met someone at another parish. Inside, there was a group of people wrapping shoe boxes in Christmas paper for Samaritans Purse. Having some time on my hands, I got myself a cup of tea and went over to help wrap boxes.

I was sitting on the floor making a mess out of box, paper and tape when Cynthia, one of the church office bearers came over. I know this person in passing, but not that well. She was floating around, overseeing everything that was going on, but not actually taking part. She saw me, came over and perched herself on a table above me. After an exchange of pleasantries “Hi Spot, how’s the bike?” (Thanks, I’m) “Fine, how are you doing” she said “This is where I like my men. At my feet…”

WTF?

You don’t really know me. Stop passing out catty, sexist insults, grab a box and some paper and either become part of the solution, or remain in the way.

So at what point is it appropriate for me to ask “Do you know where I like my women? Take this cup to the kitchen and find out in person”

Love Thy Organist

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...