Bully For Me

Dig out the party-poppers; unfurl the streamers; place upon your noggin a conical hat for this, my much loved readers, is my 200th Postaversary.

Yes, I taxed you all (well, some of you only came to this recently, so take that 'all' with a pinch of saltiest salt) with two-hundred outbursts. 60,000-ish words of stuff that poured forth without provocation over a year-less-twenty days! I have loved you in writing for approaching 70 hours of my life (if you take my word for it that it normally takes me twenty minutes to write each post [5 to write, 15 to spell-check badly]). That is my gift to you, brothers and sisters - now hand me my O.B.E. for services to sleep enhancement. I have been grumpy, opinionated, (I think) funny at times, poignant at times, boring at times, interesting at times, wrong at times, right at times but always sincere. Each single thing that I have written here has emerged in my thoughts in the twenty-four hours prior to writing, so if some of this stuff seemed untested, instinctive or raw - blame my need and wish to act spontaneously, and in blog terms, 'go where called'.

So, what have I learned from this near-three-day blogathon? 

1. Despite every protestation to the contrary, I still can't believe that I am a priest, or that I am right for the job.

2. I can't believe that anyone, let alone the volume of you who do, would ever stop to read this crud once, never mind over and over.

3. I know a little about lots, and not a lot about much.

4. I write well - well, I enjoy it, if that counts. 

5. I am glad that I do this - I think it has meaning somewhere and to someone.

6. I am the luckiest man alive - I have my health, my family, my ministry, and opportunity (and a wide-brim hat) - and reading back on stuff reminds me of that even when I lose sight of it from time to time in the midst of daily life.

7. This is exposing stuff and the words on the page are only a fraction of what is being said, about me, if not the subject at hand.

8. There is a place for blogs in our world, and in the world where God calls us to minister to others.

9. Being a 'bloke' is something I am now proud of, and will never apologise for it again.

10. I owe you, dear Reader, a debt of gratitude that I can never repay.

Thank you all for sharing this journey with me. I love all this, but without you, it would have stopped being fun and meaningful many moons ago. 

May God (or what guiding light you follow) bless you and yours!

So You Want Readers?

These are The Vernacular Curate's top tippy-tips for how to expose the wider world to that stuff you write on that screen of yours. That is why you write it, after all [if that assertion is incorrect, accept my abject apologies and try a note book instead]

I haven't got a neat little 'model' for this, but rather a rough list of things that seem to work for me, writing a not-for-profit Christian(ish) blog. I propose to fashion my list in the style of bums on a washing-line.

What - There seem to be as many types of blog as there are writers and all are different in one way or another. However, we want readers, so we need to fit our material into a genre. If I got up and wrote about anything, everything, nothing and all - as a private person, without a consistent message, I doubt I would find many readers unless my style was in itself compelling. I am a priest who writes a Christian blog. These are the two facts that I hold true to in all that I write, and in so doing, hope to attract readers who want to read Christian writing or a priest's writing, or possibly both. Family blogs attract readership from the family, blogs about the trees will find tree-lovers, and so on, but an unconnected mix of all will attract none, I think (unless you are famous or eccentric and widely known as such). 

I have also written in the past about variety of material. This works for some blogs and not others - for if you are writing a specialist blog on the ecclesial architecture of Rutland, then posts about your feelings on George Osbourne might seem out of place!

Who - readers breeds readers. Discovering who and when your audience is logged in is no bad thing. Getting noticed by such noble and widely respected enterprises as eChurchBlogs, Church Mouse and Footsteps in the Sand and other such bloggers/blog readers whose opinions will attract you readers is helpful - them seeing your blog is therefore important, and knowing when they are likely to be looking will add reader numbers. It seems mercenary, but I think it is how we have all grown (or are growing). Like good retail, our blogs are mainly spread by recommendation, so having other bloggers adding you to their blog rolls is perhaps, numerically, the most likely way of bringing in punters. This starts with reading their blogs, then commenting, then perhaps even asking the question. Remember that favour later when you see small newer blogs who need support.

Why - if you never fully discover why you are writing, then no one else will. Having an honesty with your motivations and intentions, with yourself in the first instance, is crucial. If I were trying to write to attract more people to my church, I would have resolutely failed so far. A simple desire to propogate the Gospel is ok, but honing that is more likely to deliver a yield in readers. Have an angle; have a direction; have a perspective. Be you and don't try to be a Blogger Laureate - readers read people and not ivory tower specialists. Blogging is one of the most exposing activities you can do except streaking at Twickenham and your honesty will be gratefully recieved. Be careful of seeking collusion though - that is not so good. Blogging is not good counselling if you are either writer or reader!

When - this follows from the 'who' element. We will attract a whole array of readers, but posting at midnight means that a great majority of them will be asleep. I have all but dispensed with weekend posting (if I have something 'meaningful' to say) because I discovered that many people read this blog during what I recognise as working hours, UK style. Something installed like Feedjit will teach you much about peaks and troughs in reading times. Machine-gun posting won't help though. Pace posts or post on days when you have nothing to write. Slamming out three in succession works for very few blogs - and for the rest of us, our third post is the one that will recieve attention.

How - social media is largely about the ability to expose your contageon to the widest audience geographically and in the quickest time. A Twitter account or a Facebook account are very helpful - though only if you use them in their own right and not purely as a tool for 'spreading the word'. Again, it is about relationships and people who I draw close to on those forums will more likely read me than if I am unknown to them. Those of us who read lots of blogs follow Twitter links, Facebook posts and the blog rolls on our own blog sites. This is a factor in why the 'when' element is important. Be careful of overdoing it though. I have since discovered how annoying it is to be told of a new blog post written elsewhere - five times. Subscribing to blog-spreaders like Networked Blogs is good, but work out how they 'share' your work - as often you can double or triple up a feed on Facebook, for example, and become spam to the noble readers you so desperately crave! Sharing widely is clearly the most important thing you can do yourself, but in the end, readers breeds readers.

On a seperate note, I have noticed that bloggers don't talk very much about their blogs in the real world where they exist, and I am guilty of it myself. Those who know us personally are the ones mosy likely to be interested in what we have to say, though sticking the link at the foot of all emails is perhaps not my own choice! When I am slaughtering someone for poor customer service, my blog link would seem ill-placed!

And lastly, a couple of miscellaneous bits and bobs, as I have taken up a lot of your time already here. 

1. Images - Pictures get my attention before words do, and the same can be said for many. Bp Alan is a great example of one who uses imagery well and engagingly. Have fun with it too, its an art form of sorts!

2. Titles - I like to be a little risque in my titling to entice curiosity, but do this in accordance with your own style. If you arn't given to semantic gameplay, don't be trying this at home!

3. Currency - trying to always write on what is current is ok, but lots do that - and they do it better than me mostly. Swimming against the tide provides something different for readers and that can't be bad!

4. Originality - if you can be different to everyone else in just one little way, it will pay dividends. Be you, that is no mean start - but don't be me, I already have that covered, thanks!

The Pointlessness of Christmas?

I am guessing that you are wondering where this post is going, with a title such as this. You are not alone.

I am not sure if this is a world-spanning phenomenon or just a quaint British one, or if any of you who are reading this have noticed it. Our tellies are replete with adverts selling flooring, furnishing and white goods. Most are advertising the Sale-in-Perpetuity, offering baggy settees for 'five-nine-nine', reduced from something daft like £1700.00. It's legal but it doesn't reflect the absolute letter of truthfulness either, but it is not that which I seek to examine.

At the moment, those adverts will have a little seasonal clause:

"Buy your three-piece suite before 11:16am on December 8th and we will ....."

"Order your flooring before 02:52 on Sunday 5th December and we will ..."

"Cough up the wonga before the close of trade yesterday and we will ..."

"Sign your life away in our stores before you next take breath and we will ..."

What? What is the panacea to which all retailers cling in these weeks? Yes ...

...they will GUARANTEE delivery/fitting before Xmas/Christmas...

Now, I am a cynic, so in the spirit of open-mindedness, I have to ask if these noble cash-purloining emporia are hoping to render your homes to the status of perfect in time for the moment of the Incarnation. Are they concerned that the entire population will want to return home from a Christmas Mass to a brand spanking new shag-pile? 

Of course not - don't be daft. I am fairly sure that Lord Harris of Peckham, or the present owner of the beleagured Allied Carpets, or the top honchos of DFS or Dreams are fixated on the 'Away in a Manger' thing, and let's be honest - none of us are that worried about having a new lounge carpet or furniture that we won't be at home to enjoy? Are we? You'd be surprised. I use to take sales in June that would be intended for supply in the week before Xmas/Christmas, quite routinely.

It seems that British culture 'gets' Christmas in its own quirky off-centre way. Churches will be busy just shy of midnight on Christmas Eve with people who won't have stumbled through the doors since the last year. Yes, they might have had a drink, but a symptom of inebriation is not typically a zeal for an encounter with a deity. The retailers frame the importance that we innately hold for a day, and for a season, for which the meaning so often seems lost. Perhaps it was never lost, just rather it has become less religious. The press would have us believe that most of our little kiddies have no idea what Christmas is about; disavow yourselves of that idea now.

White vans will be hurling consumer durables around our streets for the next few weeks, all labouring under what seems at the face of it to be a rather odd deadline - the birth of Jesus Christ. They will never use that language, but in the end, they are selling to a market that regards Christmas as holy at some level or another, and of not holy, as special - the only day in the year that we ever work towards in this way.

Sustaining the [something] Centre

I have been away for part of the week at a training event for us Baby Vicars and part of that, to use the Diocese of Oxford sloganography, was to look at how we 'sustain the Sacred Centre'. It forms the first 'stage' in the Diocese's process for engaging with Living Faith, and whilst it is tickety-boo for me and those like me, has given rise to a question in my own mind about others who perhaps are not like me.

'How do non-religious, atheist, humanist, agnostic etc etc people sustain their ....! 

...and that is where I have hit a wall. Language, words, value-laden constructs ...

In order to try to attend to the 'blank' in this, I have to make some assumptions, as I see them (all flawed, all value laden, all my best try).

1. All people, whether of a faith or not, must have a sense of themselves as more than just tissue, bones and synapses.

2. Whether chemical or innate, that sense of themselves that goes beyond the fleshly aspect of our human existence is intangible and is unique to each person

3. Like all parts of the human body, this innate facet of our being is apt to depletion like all parts are if not sustained (in the same way that not eating or drinking depletes our physical characteristics)

4. As a human being who has a care for others, I long to know how people without a faith sustain that part of their being so that I can learn about humanity and not just Christians

5. Words like 'sacred' or 'centre' may not be applicable, or even terms like 'inner' or 'heart' in the sense of it being the root of the emotional sense.

This post is as a preamble to a thought that I will try to unpack in the Heathen Hub, a place of significant (and good) learning for me about what it is to be a human. I have written it here partly because I would love all Christians (my main audience here is Christian) to have a care and to learn how it is to live life outside of our own circle. I think a world where Christians only know about the internal cares of Christians is not within our mandate to love the world. We must learn to understand and appreciate those who are different from us, and even to learn from them - and then to have a due care for them as equals in our humanity. 

I want to learn how people such as atheists 'tick'. I have the God stuff, the Jesus stuff, and a whole array of historically tested meditative practices that attends to an inner life that I believe for myself is rooted in a relationship with God. I have wondered how, for people who have no sense of 'other' in the deistic sense and no sense that there is anything external to the existence of being a human, how it is possible to energise the interior places, or simply energise the energies. In a sense, it feels easy to be religious. There are extra factors for us, and implicit activities and behaviours that are concomitant with them. 

I think, in short, I am interested to know how people without a god sustain their 'sacred centres'.

Chasing a Rainbow

Being a priest is the very best thing in the world. Well, for me it is. It is like living the 'dream come true' as for the preceding thirty-odd years (yes, all of that time) this was the place where I daren't even hope to be for fear that the hope would never come to pass.

In my life there have been some very significant people. They have raised me, nurtured me, nurtured my faith, and nurtured my calling to the priesthood. They range from family members and friends, to fellow-parishioners and priests. Some of them read this, so what I will try to consign to this screen, I will try to get clear.

For younger people of my church tradition, the notion and ideal incorporated in the 'priest' is a significant thing. Those of a catholic pursuation (I can only speak for us, so please don't think I am being exclusive), for good or ill, place their priests on something of a pedestal. For me, I can number the bishop who confirmed me, two curates who passed through our parish in their training, and a couple of others who form this list of 'priests of note'. They embodied what I regarded as a the model of priesthood (as I observed them from the outside), and it was them and their example that I aspired to in the way I hoped to live my calling if it was granted fruition. 

I still do. 

Self-image is a blessing and a curse in this life. I am very comfortable inhabiting the skin of one David Cloake. It is often fun for me being me. In many ways, I 'see' me fairly jolly clearly. It means that in the vast majority of times, I can just get on with getting on, and why perhaps I have an issue with excessive navel gazing. I am me - live with it. I do! This brings a consequence, though. I am not my 'ideal model' of a priest in the ways I have aspired to. I know where the warts are, the scar tissue, the shadows. I know that I am lousy at half the spiritual mechanisms that you might ascribe to me as habit. I am a blunt instrument, lacking subtlety and the lighter touch at times. For me, 'priests'  are well-read spiritual paradigms. For me, 'priests' embody all that is good and whole in humanity. They are exemplars of prayer, fine preachers, pastoral geniuses, gifted listeners - among a long list of other qualities. I am none of those things, much. 

Don't get me wrong, I am not downhearted. I live with this, but I think that all priests (within my scope of reference) are the same. None of us fully fill the priest-shaped hole that we have fashioned and formed throughout our own upbringing. We are, in many ways, constantly chasing the rainbow that will never be to our touch. Mine is not a life of constant disappointment though. It is a life of pursuing a state that for now elludes me. The odd thing is, the pragmatic part of me knows I will never get there - but in the effort to try and be the best priest that I can be, I can't find a way to grasp that sense.

The Poor Selling of Salvation

Imagine that you are visiting a carpet shop for the first time. Imagine the scene unfolding thus:

You are met at the door by a man who smiles at you warmly. As you cross the threshold of the flooring emporium, the gentleman says, 'You need a carpet, don't you?'. Before you have a chance to reply, the man continues: 'yes, that's right - a carpet - a lounge carpet I think. Yes, you look like you need a lounge carpet to me.' You try to venture into the shop a little further, but the warm smiling man persists, saying 'a blue one isn't it? You look like just the kind of person who wants a blue lounge carpet. We have lots of lovely blue lounge carpets.' Still you have said nothing, but politeness and idle curiosity keep you there. You look at a wide array of the finest carpets, all shades of blue - thick-pile, short-pile, looped, tufted. There is not a blue lounge carpet that you have not seen this day. The helpful assistant presses you for a choice, some indication of preference. He has worked hard and given you much time, the benefits of his considerable training and experience, and his love for carpet is compelling. You have said very little until now, perhaps save for making affirmative noises and appreciative grunts. Genuine niceness on your part and his determination to send you home with a blue lounge carpet have seen you narrow what you have seen down to three samples. 'Well?' the man encourages, 'which one will you go for?' Finally you pluck up the courage and say, wringing your hands and feeling like a complete heel: 'I came in for bathroom vinyl, actually'. 

This is an example of poor selling. It happens day by day by day in many places and is not good practice. If it persists, it lowers turnover and thereby profit and in the end, the shop shuts. 

But it is what we do in some of our churches. 

Now, 'selling' is only illustrative, but this was a phenomenon that I identified in conversation with a friend of mine, himself of the charismatic tradition. It is the 'let us tell you what you need syndrome', and is in all but name, bad 'selling'. 

Good 'selling' is about having a heart to meet the needs of people. It involves providing an approrpriate welcome, space and time for the person to browse and orientate their thoughts and choices, enquiring as to their needs, matching their needs with the correct benefits of what we believe we have to 'sell' - offering choices where possible, even in the event that we have to be honest if our 'product' isn't fully what the person claims to need. If all has gone well, it is appropriate to ask for the 'sale', mentioning the pertinent extras, managing future expectations for the process going-forward and then commending the 'sale'. The need to "go the extra mile" is crucial, perhaps revisiting that person some time later to see if the 'product' met the needs as expected. This is the broad framework of competant selling, and on this I know what I am talking about! 

Bad evangelism is like poor selling. It makes assumptions, chooses incorrect pathways for seekers and thereby renders the encounter's success to the realms of 'hoping for the best', and in the end, is largely fruitless. This stuff happens, as I have discovered myself. Someone tried to sell me a blue lounge carpet once when I was delighted with the one I had. I have never returned to that 'shop' since.

Is There Anybody There?

Today is a day when the Yes folk lock swords with the No folk, the Archbishop frets, and the Synod votes on an issue.

I agree with the 'what is the point' camp, and I have sympathy with the 'will it really make any difference camp'. I am firmly in the 'Church of England has dealt with worse than this camp' and the 'I imagine that we will see next year' camp. 

I am looking for the 'So what' camp so I can join.

I feel like I might be the only person in the whole wide world who holds this view. I couldn't care less about the Covenant. I don't see it making the slightest jot of difference to us in the end because when people choose to, they will behave according to their consciences whether a piece of paper is there or not.

I do not regard it as an issue worthy of the froth and hype that it has recieved, and do not regard it as having the potency or valency that both camps ascribe unto it. 

What is worthy of froth and hype is how we as church meet the world where it is. What is worthy of froth and hype is drawing alongside people in greatest need. What is worthy of froth and hype is how we bring life to a Gospel that is suffocating under placards. Dancing like elves around an apparition is not good church. Loving and talking is, not finger-pointing slogan-yelling campaign-propagating issue-bashing. Let's all sit down, calm down, and get on with the business of loving neighbour as selves. 

On Sustaining My Sacred Centre

Models and frameworks;

Best practice and ideals.

For me before God

None of this stuff appeals.

For my life with the Lord

Is about being 'me'

And not 'you', in all that it reveals.

Being silent or busy;

Being with Book or without.

All of these things

Can work, without doubt.

But for this man here sat,

But a nod and a chat

In the midst of my life

With children and wife.
I search His face

In the time and the place

Where I am,

What I do

In that, I can be true.

With My Finger on the Pulse

This post is designed to challenge the pre-concieved, to rip up that inner book that you all have in you that details the buck-toothed cotton-wool haired image of the Vicar with the speech-impediment and "vicar-voice".

No, dear Reader, you may place that idea to one side. You may abandon your stereotypes for you are reading the work of one hap-hoppity-hip young priest with his finger on the pulse of British society. I know where 'it' is at. So, with my 'pants sagging and my spraycan for the tagging' I declare that I am more in tune with society that even yer common spotty oikus from da hood. 

I must lay it on the line, and tell you all now, that this funky-monkey man of da cloth watches X Factor and I'm A Celebrity. Yes, ladies and gentle, at the cutting edge, me. I know what a Waggnah is, and I know what a Boosh Tookah Trile is.

So, reality TV - that thing that we Brits do, because - as the name will tell you, we live in (all salute now) Great Britain. Once we had to cope with Morse, fancy-pants period dramas, documentaries about the pygmies at the end of Essex gardens, Nationwide and Crossroads - but not now. We have 'Strictly', 'X Factor', 'Slebbrity', 'Big Bruv', 'The Apprentiss [You're fired]', and then we have the spin-offs, three apiece per programme so that we can watch bored slebs being bored, dancing slebs dancing, ambitious preposterous mega-business brains spatting over their blue-sky thinking, and how much Waggnah and Maffyoo have been scrapping. Happy happy joy joy.

Well, last night we watched a travesty (albeit an amusing one) when Waggnah [a pony-tailed Brazilian octogenarian] got through to another round in Ecksfactah while Paige was given the heave-ho. Then we watched another travesty as Gillian bloody McKeith faked  [allegedly] another faint in front of millions to get out of doing the thing she agreed to do in the first place (and after having watched her lie about her former failure to so the same on a previous occasion - lie, I tell you) in Slebbrity. The dancing in 'Strictly' was far more mundane, although Patsy 'Only Good in Lethal Weapon 2' Kensit's pouty weepy commiseration for Felicity 'I've Had a Little Work Done' Kendall as she was given the heave from that show was a further moment of amusement.

So, make me the Chaplain to Sleb-land Reality TV - hang yer 1662 and all that stuff. I am where life is, at the coal face, the cutting edge of our heartbeat and national culture. What'o!

Clearing Air

A difficult experience yesterday has given me cause to think about an issue that I had never really identified before. Now that I have, it is a consistent factor in the life of all churches with which I am familiar (no small number, at that).

There seems to be a behaviour in church community life which can occur unchecked very often. The concerns, agendas, hobbyhorses, hot-potatoes, bees-in-bonnets of individual parishioners, when expressed in the warm-love-petri-dish environment of a church can grow like so many cultivated bacteria. They may be issues that are important and pressing, or else they may just be the personal crusades that Christians, like all human beings, instigate from time to time.

In the petri-dish, the environment for the growth of conflict is perfect. It is a place full of people who are called to love, often ill-equipped to challenge the more extrovert members or those with their own time-developed audiences. They are places that hold love as the greatest of virtues, so when an issue rises to the surface, it rises fast and spreads rapidly like a fire in dry hay. 

In my own experience, it seems that there is no firefighting mechanism. Church communities are often gathered for a single occasion during the week. They gather to undertake an activity that demands (rightly or wrongly) that they are less interactive one with the other. They gather often as strangers in a room, strangers who for years will never ever know the names of other strangers in the same room. They come; they worship; they go home. Over coffee, the petri-dish environment does its work and agendas gain their momentum while the rest of the gathered assembly agonise about the conflicts - in private. 

Church life very often lacks that thing that families have, gathering of friends have, businesses have, working teams have - a way of clearing the air, of addressing a conflict issue to resolve or debate the issues. We come together once a week to worship, then mutual-friend networks meet in the intervening periods and rally round the crusader of the day. How do church communities get together, as they do on a Sunday, to sit down not to worship, but to argue healthily? 

My church, like all churches (even those who believe that this does not apply to them) has a couple of hot-potato issues on the coal burner. They are expressed between individuals behind pillars or in a corner. I think the traditional view is that the benevolent Vicar waves a Jedi-Knight hand and all issues vanish or minds changed, but that is clearly not the case. Yesterday, I felt I had no choice to stand at the front and address one issue head on - an issue that is misinformed and has the potential to do much harm. Is that all we have to clear our air? 

The resultant beheviour is familiar to many long-term Christian churchy types: the 'twenty-year blow out'. Because churches have no way of clearing the air or arguing healthily, the pressure builds and after about twenty years, an atypical response is normally seen. The agitators of old (themselves good and loving people) become bricked up behind the walls of their former skirmishes and the need arises to pull those walls down. People get hurt, people leave, damage is done and rubble is left. Good people get hurt. Why? Because there is no way (that I have identified) for a healthy church to have an healthy argument and to clear the air. 

Answers on a post-card, please.

Blogging Etiquette - for Priests

This thing that we do, blogging, is a reasonably new thing. It is odd and still strange to a good number of people and so it seems to fall to bloggers to expound the rule-book (were such a thing to exist) to those following shortly behind. Bloggers blog, then they tell other bloggers how to blog. There is a specific appetite for such material if hit-counts are to be believed - so I work on the basis, as a fairly new bloggist in my own right, that this must be the case. 

I am increasingly of the opinion that there is an implicit etiquette in this activity, more especially where weirdos like priests have their crack at this particular whip. Priests are, by very definition, public figures (paid, employed or otherwise) as our titles and Orders have a valency of their own which cannot and should not be ignored. So, a Sunday List for you - one that is neither exhaustive or to be regarded as anything other than my opinion:

1. At the centre: I believe very firmly that if someone blogs as a priest, that they have a duty to centre all that they do on the hope of Christ. The hobby-horse becomes, after a while, a pain in the bottom! Individual posts must vary, of course, but a priest should always exhibit the hope and grace of God in the overall work.

2. Read Ye Lest Ye be Read: At the side of this post you will see a list of other blogs. Most bloggers display a 'blog-roll', partly to attract traffic and partly to create it for someone else. It is the community aspect of this passtime and is healthy and good. However, I believe too that a balance needs to be made in the authorship of those blogs. Priests can gain  considerably by reading often barely read, modest writings of ordinary lay Christians. Their blogs tell us what those in our care are thinking, and we ignore them at our peril. They write without the constraints of Orders, the need to be sensitive or to package things for public consumption. One of my blogs-of-choice is Daydreamer - who is a perfectly noble barometer for the life of our parishioners, and a woman who is blogging at the same rate as getting to know how to use a computer! Reading the high hitting levitous priestly writers is only half the job for us - find a parishioner and 'follow' them!

3. Word Counts: We have something to say and we say it in our blogs, but again, this is half the work for a priestly blogger. I am guilty of failing in this a lot of the time, but I wonder if it is not 'better' for us to write more words in comment on other blogs that are written in our own posts. Other blogs talk about other things, and to fail to engage in those postings is to state by actions that what we have to say is of greater value that what others have to say. I know that, for me, I sit here and blurt out an 'absolute statement' and post; then I play with the kids or eat (or sleep or do the paid job etc). I am trying to comment on other blogs more, as in those engagements I am likely to learn more in the end. Also, let us not forget our valency - rightly or wrongly - as we perhaps even have a duty to engage with those who share our hobby. 

4. For Whos Sake? The central kernal in offering spiritual direction is also applicable here. When we type our words, why are we doing it? Whilst I know no such bloggers personally, I have encountered writing here and there in other work that has taught me that self-aggrandising priestly bloggers are a danger. The 'look at me' tendency of some odd little outputs here and there is akin to the desire ot be ordained to the be one 'at the front' or 'to wear the uniform while walking the dog': just plain wrong. For the sake of clarity, I follow no such blogs  - but I will 'out' them the next time I find one. 

5. For Whos Sake II? I perhaps take this to the edge, but I am troubled by some blogs that would not reflect the person who people would expect to see the next Sunday. I am ranty and a little sweary at times, but I hope that in this blog you would read the same person who you would meet after. When people read the blogs of priests and other ministers, they expect a behaviour, rightly or wrongly, to be that of priest. Only blog what you are prepared to say from the pulpit - or else don't. To do otherwise causes injury, I believe - and that is not the business that any of us are in. 

This is the start - and I hope to be challenged, corrected or added unto below. What we do as priests, we don't do in our own name, and to forget that would be, well, difficult! 

To the blogs I follow - thank you for what you do to help me in this and for being a part of this funny world we inhabit; you all do far more for my writing than you imagine and I just love pawing over your work!

Help Me!

 

See, we can't help it - we are being forced to write this bilge!

Anglican Covenant for Dummies

 

This just about sums it all up for me. I can now join the debate!

The Imposition of Christ

From a fair time spent in business, I have determined that the process for obtaining a job follows broadly this pattern: see vacancy; send in application form or CV which details all the specific skills required to meet the requirements of the vacancy; have interview where same skills are expanded upon and personality qualities applied; get job; accept job; recieve Terms and Conditions regarding when where how much and what, together with expected standards of dress and conduct; sign and return Ts & Cs; do job; bank the cash. With odd idiosyncrasies excepted, that is largely the story as I have experienced it.

The same experience, often as the interviewer and employer, has also told me that very few Christians are open and conspicuous about that side of their life, and barring a few recent Head Teacher applications that have recently crossed this desk, the many hundreds of other application forms that I saw were silent about faith and moral perspective. Even under 'hobbies' there was no "I go to church" even when I later discovered that the person did. Not a whiff of religious practice; nothing. I think that this is indicative of the majority of such applications which will naturally wax lyrical about this degree or that certificate, this experience or that professional course. 

There was another of 'those stories' in the Church Times today. It was an article about a woman who was dismissed and then later partially reinstated in her job. She later resigned and took her employer to tribunal for discrimination against her on the basis of her faith. Why? Because she used her own theological and moral perspective to govern her decision making in her work in adoption - and as such it caused her to abstain from applications by same-sex couples to adopt children because she considers them to be grubby sinners contrary to the Bible. 

This is not the first such story. We have heard about praying medics and crucifix wearing cabin-crew, all doing their rocks when the outpouring of their faith wasn't deemed appropriate in the circumstance where they found themselves.

Recognising both that my view is one of many, and also that I speak as a former employer - I am becoming tired of the Christians who feel that they have a right to operate in this way. They took a job and its salary and then opted to interpret it according to some lofty Christian ideals, and I believe that they are wrong to do so. When I sold carpet for a living, and mindful of my distaste for orange flooring, I would have expected the heave had I refused to sell such shagpile. I know a friend who is a very committed and devout Christian, and a funeral director - yet he does not refuse the requests for humanist or civil ceremonies. No, he does the job he is paid to do, and so did I - and doing that job involved doing my best for the clients in my care. That was the ethic of my work and is the imperative of my friend's work. 

Wearing a crucifix in an environment where it is deemed inappropriate in the workplace is no higher an issue by virtue of the item in question than wearing a tutu to a building site. Abstaining from the decisions to provide vulnerable children love and security on the basis of some wonky theology of sexuality is no more lofty than refusing to sell orange carpet on the basis of taste and decency. Uttering prayers over someone who hasn't asked for them is somehow quaint when a Christian does it, but imagine the furore in Christian (or any) circles if those prayers were from a Muslim. No, some have this view that they have unending rights to behave in certain ways because they are extoling the virtues of Christ himself. Not so! They are simply working beyond their rights in the workplace, and more often than not within the cloud of unknowing that they create for their employers when they fail to mention their zeal in their applications.

The thing that is most annoying for me is that these 'I have the right' Christians are making a mockery of all of us. In imposing Christ, they remove debate and very often reason from the circumstance in which they find themselves in, and that seems to ride against all Gospel imperatives. Worst still, they place one more stone into the hands of those who seek to throw them at people of any faith, all because they think that they have the right to propogate their theologies through their jobs! No such right exists except that of the employer that we all do the job we are taking the cash to do. 

Why I Couldn't Be a Humanist

I have a paper to write on the subject of funerals, so like all diligent writers, obtained some material from other sources in order to make an honest and informed comparison. I bought and paid for the Humanist Association book on 'how to do a funeral', and the title on the cover typifies the very reason why I have something of an issue with them as an organisation:

'Funerals Without God' - it is called. Now, I can accept that some people cannot confess a faith in a deity, and as such I am at peace with that. This title, though, is odd. I am guessing that most Humanists don't believe in Flying Green Elephants or tooth-fairies (one assumes), so a book entitled 'Funerals Without Toothfairies' or 'Funerals Without Flying Green Elephants' would seem equally odd to me.

I took a toddle throught the pages of this noble work, whose strapline is 'A practical guide to humanist and non-religious funeral celebrations' (I am also a little flummoxed as to why 'non-religious' automatically translates into 'humanist' which is, after all, a belief-structure with texts and dogmas, like a religion); anyway ... some quotes for you.

"In circumstances rather less extreme that a climber's death [high up on a Himalayan mountainside] there may be no Humanist officiant conveniently available" (p3) - just us Christians, then, who are available at all times and in all weather

"There is an intimacy about a ceremony that is organised by those immediately involved, which cannot be achieved when it is conducted by an outsider" (p3) - not true, according to the mourners whose loved-ones I have despatched to Heaven

"Perhaps after the success of your 'Do It Yourself' ceremony ... you'll decide to join our ranks" (p4) - join us, the B&Q of funerals - here is your orange apron - anyway, all dignity and class flew away with 'Do It Yourself' ceremony

"Five or six minutes is perhaps the minimum time for a meaningful and dignified ceremony" (p4) - especially if ...

"...on the rare occasions when the relatives are quite unable to come up with any pleasant memories at all, because there was no loved lost between them, or because your subject was clearly a bad-tempered, selfish, unkind or thoroughly unpleasant person!" (p17) - sorry aunty, but you had a beard too, and your kisses were all slobbery. 

"There might be a cross and candles up in front and also prayer or hymn books set out on the pews. These are inappropriate for Humanist ceremonies, as indeed they are out of place for many other funerals. Crematoria are public buildings and do not belong to the churches, so we have a right to ask that the cross be removed by the staff before the ceremony starts" (p13) - welcome to the world where most people don't seek a DIY funeral

"Where there is no cemetary chapel in use ... there are a number of alternatives:

...a church hall ... ...a hotel..." (p14) ...though only the bravest would make those phone calls to book them

 "At the graveside ... if an aeroplane or some other outrageous noise drowns your voice, simply wait until the sound subsides" (p15) - I am wondering where outrageous planes fly too, making their outrageous noise, outrageously [speak up, love, they are 30-odd thousand feet up]

I could carry on. My beef is not  that they are Humanists, but that as Humanists they are not being humanists, but rather an anti-religion lobby. Their agenda seems to be set purely to counter us faithful folk and what we believe in, and even as an expression of atheism, it seems odd. I chose the picture above because it seems to illustrate well what I mean here. As a person with a belief in God, and in the context of that diagram, I would argue that I have faith (and largely no proof) that a white triangle is at the centre of the picture. I claim this because I can see its effects on other things. Humanists would spend all their efforts telling me that there is no triangle and, actually, they will spend all their time devoting effort to telling you not to believe in the triangle that isn't there. If I were an atheist, I think I would be focussed on the things that are there, the circles and the lines. The end result is this: if you have Christians, Humanists and other non-Humanist Society atheists, you would have two of the three groups talking about God. The third is just isn't interested in the subject matter.

Without Them We are Nothing

As I pondered the fate of Kate Middleton as she prepares to donate her organs, life, hopes and aspirations to a nation that may not always be kind to her, I was reminded of other such figures, closer to home, who do much the same.

This post is a timely acknowledgement of those who could be generically termed 'The Vicar's Wife'. They take many forms, of course: the Curate's wife, the curate's husband, the Incumbent's partner, and so on. You get the idea.

I am blessed with one such Vicar's Wife - the wonderful Mrs Acular. She is from a particular school of Vicar's Wife for whom the life she is caused to lead as a result of my calling to priesthood is the greatest leap from 'before'. Mrs Acular is a woman of quiet diligent faith, confessed only fairly recently, and confirmed shortly before I began theological training. The Godly Squadly life isn't always a familiar one to her, even now, and her personal style and expression of faith means that she isn't one of those partners who are part of the expression of the ministry (I refer to those wonderful partners who are so called to be the other half of the priest in question, in ministerial terms). She is a 'behind the scenes' partner, and without her presence and constancy, there would be no show. 

Vicar's Wives have to contend with so much. Their home, while provided freely, is not their own and is available to invasion by all-comers at all times of the day and night. Old Fr 'Dog Collar' here is called to that and is prepared, but quiet Mrs Acular has to assume the role of ever-polite doorkeeper, Personal Secretary to the Messiah-complex, and most of all - reactive. Ordained ministry is, by very definition, reactive. We are often attending to a circumstance not of our making, of timing not of our choosing. This means that my beloved has to change her plans and very often her working hours to suit. She does this quietly, attentively, diligently and rarely with complaint. 

The same is the case, I am sure, for most Vicar's Wives. The Vicar in question may be blessed that Mr/s Vicar's Wife is an activist, for whom the ministry in question is a means of their own faith expression, and can revel in that lifestyle. I think for the majority of Vicar's Wives this perhaps is not the case. Often, they are professional people in their own right, often from suspended professions so that families can be raised while the 'Redeemer' runs around redeeming. If all runs smoothly and perfectly, both have a chance to realise their dreams, but so often the dedication of the Vicar's Wife is such that the realised dream is not theirs. As I have posted before, they are relegated to the status of single-parents at church as they contend with the progeny alone. They are invariably second in line when retreats and quiet-time is being handed out. There is the implicit and often unstated set of expectations that arrive with a new 'Vicar' with a 'wife' - that s/he will do this or that for the church. This list is endless ...

So, to my wife (who doesn't read this very often) - thank you. Without you, this life couldn't happen. For that and all that you do covering for me and coping without me, I am most deeply endebted to you.

To rest of the 'Vicar's Wives' out there - know that what you do is good and appreciated. Without your tireless efforts and support, often quietly in the background, so many glorious priestly ministries would founder. When vicars leave, they recieve the love and thanks from the people for all that they did - but not a jot of it would ever have happened if our partners weren't raising our families for us, keeping home for us, making tea for guests for us, answering our phones and arranging our lives for us, or just praying for us and loving us. 

To quote Adey Grummet - they are the people who know what pants the vicar is wearing - and we forget that and all these things at our peril.

WiWa and KaMi To Marry

I started the day with some mixed feelings about the now heavily publicised news that Prince William and Kate Middleton are to marry. We all knew that they would, and have known that for years - so it is not a surprise to any of us. The ring thing is, I grant you, a surprise. Using the engagement ring that Dad gave Mum - one can only assume that the royal PR people were behind that. For me, it is not what I would have done, and the headlines in all this morning's bile-sheets had his mother's name all over them without exception, and not always Kate's. 

Anyway ...

Part of me didn't think I cared. Then the other part 'had a word' and now I have a different perspective on things. I think that the 'Widdleton' machine will now chug to full pelt with conventions for this, precedents for that, titles here, processes there. The lovely couple assure us that they will try to be 'hands-on' with their marriage service, but I remain as yet unconvinced. There will be little old geezers, who had nothing to do for years because their jobs as Madge Splicers have not been called upon for a while. They will have hidden in cupboards until the next wave of royal loin-fruits made their momentous decisions, and will now stir into a fury of activity and constitutional correctness. It is all very quirky, very quaint, and very very English.

...A little like the Church. We are certainly quirky, entirely quaint, and awash with wonderful individuals who have their jobs to do (and do them well).

Ours is a very cynical society in so many ways. Its cynicism is part of the reason why faith in all its forms struggles. Cynicism is the reason why the Royal Family have not enjoyed good times recently. We assess usefullness along lines that institutions like monarchies and churches find hard to make the grade. This is also partly why society doesn't seem to favour weddings or often commitment in any form - because we just don't see the need or the point.

I am delighted that the institution of marriage is recieving such a boost. The bandwagon classes will start to book their nuptials like mad in the next few months so that they too can have a 'Widdleton' style bash. But I am glad. I am glad that we now have a chance to see the monarchy in ascendency again because I believe it will have a positive effect on the church. Cynicism might be lulled by quirky fairy-stories once again, as we were all raised hearing tales of princes and princesses. Once again we will all be given permission to have a little faith in things beyond ourselves, and for that I am glad. 

For my part, I wish Prince William and Ms Middleton a long and happy marriage; one that is fruitful and one where they may be allowed space to preserve themselves and the family I pray they are granted. They have given us all a little hope ... and that is a great gift to a nation.

Behind Closed Doors

We have now reached that time of year when we wander around our streets as often in the dark as in the light. For me, the sight of houses with their curtains drawn on a crisp starry night is an evocative one. The orange hue in the light that always seem to escape through the windows always grants me that sense of warmth that such light implies. I see these houses, and I instinctively regard them as warm, happy, by default full of kids relaxing by a default crackling fire. I find myself wanting to be inside those houses. Perhaps there is something of the Christmas card about such a sight, but it is nonetheless compelling. 

I was reminded this week that behind the closed doors of some houses it is far from warm and evocative, far from suggestive of Yuletide Joy. I heard this week of the plight of a child not too far from my own home, who had  yet to reach their second birthday when they were recieved into hospital  with a crushed skull. Such was the extent of that little child's injuries, they will not celebrate Christmas and will never be two. As a result of injuries sustained in that same orange glow, that child died a few days ago, and while the other injuries pale into relative insignificance compared to the primary one, they tell the story of that little-one's experience of this life. I suspect that it will be a life that will be measured by a greater number of injuries than months lived.

We will soon leap headlong into the 'Away In a Manger' season. The carols will shortly pipe up and link seamlessly one into the other until the day our Saviour comes. More often than not, those carols will be hollered out by excited children for whom the Little Baby Jesus is still something to be excited about. The priests of our country are already steeling themselves for the onslaught of three weeks of 'Most Highly Flavoured Gravy, Gloriaa-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a', but if we let ourselves, we too will be intoxicated by it every time, and for that I thank God.

My reason for writing this was to remember some people. While we wail out our favourite carols, there will be frightened children who will watch what we do from afar. They may even be there, in body if not in spirit. There will be children who will know no love or warmth this Christmas, and I will hold them in my prayers every day. I want also to remember the beleagured people whose work (often thankless) is to discover this pain and suffering and often save these little-ones' lives before it is too late. Often they succeed, but every once in a tragic while, they discover the pain of a child too late to help. May God bless them and all for whom they work so hard.

It Could Happen

15 years from now ...

 

The day you never thought would come is here. After his solo career, Andy Burnham is back with

THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND

They have released their new reunion album

'PROGRESS'

which will be in all stores and available to download from Monday

Songs include:

Sorry Seems to be The Hardest Word

D.I.V.O.R.C.E

Achy-breaky Heart

Glad To Be Home

Misunderstanding

Cracklin' Crozier

I Mitre be Wrong

'Giving It Up' - A tribute to Maggi Dawn

Papa Don't Preach

I Love You Just The Way You Are 

Plus Covers from Andy's Solo Albums:

Smoke on the Water

Chantilly Lace

Ordinariate Guy

I Said I loved You (But I lied)

Under Pressure

It's Raining Men

Superstition

Runaway [Radio Edit][Feat. Benny Sixteen]

Consecration [Tiber Stripes Dub]

Dates for the World Tour to be announced shortly

Lest We Take Ourselves Too Seriously II

 

Because it is good to laugh ...

Lest We Take Ourselves Too Seriously

 

A little amusement for a Saturday. For those who are unfamiliar with English humour, this is meant to be a funny thing, and not a documentary.

The Curate's Egg VI

Egg of the Day: Battery Hen

I am aware that I haven't written a 'Curate's Egg' since June, and that some of you poor souls may not have grasped the darker depths of my mortal being yet if you are new to my bloggette. If you wish to sample this dish before you buy, you may try the following:

Curate's Egg I; Curate's Egg II; Curate's Egg III; Curate's Egg IV and Curate's Egg V. 

The thing is this, ladies and gentleman, there are some things that wind I up. Like an electronic grump-letting, this post is my leach of choice.

Car Insurance Price Comparison Websites: You can take your squeaking meerkats and you can fry them in hot oil, for these sites are crooked. I sought insurance, a good deal, a little convenience perhaps - so I blatted my particulars into their little boxes to see whether my next years' insurance might be a little less now that I am advancing in years. £238.70 was the best quote I reiceved. Rapture. 'Buy Now' was the button I pressed. £276.97 was the sum in the next box. You crooked villains. You confidence tricksters. You reprobates. I couldn't find a humanly possible way of finding that insurance at that price with that company with the same details. I didn't ask for a lawyer, a hospital on standby, six pints of blood ready for when I have an accident, a fairy godmother, tickets to the proms or any of the other little variables that always seem to pop up. I want CAR INSURANCE - so I can drive my little motorcar, insured. I unticked all the boxes and yes, the price came down - but never to the one quoted. Criminals! Lower than a snake's belly button! No, as ever, I am relying on Fat Wayne down the hill to sort me out. At least I can see the one robbing me then.

Humorous Clothes for Kids with Witty Remarks: I am Trouble said one t-shirt. My Mummy Says I am the Milkman's said another. My Head Rotates At Speed When I have Sugar said another. I am Naughty All The Time said this one. My Little Bruvva and Me Share No Genetic Material said that one. I Poo My Pants for Fun said the last. These garments must be stopped. They must be stopped like bumper stickers should be stopped because they are not funny, they are not witty - they are prophetic. Mothers and fathers up and down the country know this: if the T-shirt says so, it is probably true, only you are the last ones to acknowlege it. Don't mock your progeny, it's not nice. 

Alpha Mail: If I recieve unwanted emails, I can 'spam' them, or if I am very lucky, I can 'unsubscribe' and never recieve another. Why can't I do that with my Church Times? I didn't ask for the Alpha News. It is a course - why does it need a newspaper? I don't see GCSE News or HND National Diploma News. I have yet to be introduced to City & Guilds Hamburger Tech Level II News, so why am I exposed to Alpha News. If I wanted self-congratulatory, mutual back-slapping, 'look at us aren't we great', then I would jolly well ask. Do me the courtesy of  letting me choose to recieve you, not impose yourself on me because you fear I might not. I wish to 'unsubscribe' from Alpha News because as unsolicited material, it is printed spam. 

Hand Soap Dispensers et al: Enter harps, enter coiffeured wimmin, enter clean cut kiddies, enter 'breadwinner' dad - and you have an advert for loo-cleaner or hand soap dispensers. Methinks they labour under false premisses. They tell me that this loo-cleaner is wonderful? Why? Because it kills all known germs ... in my loo. Dead. Like that is a wonderful innovation. People, I am not planning to prepare my dinner in my bog - I am not expecting to run my tongue underneathe the rim. So what if there are germs in my toilet - it really doesn't matter. Smudges and stains, limescale and muck - that isn't nice to see in ones Chapel of Ease - but germs? Then you have the hand-soap plunger dispenser, the modern-day curse of modern-day filthophobes. The germs ... are left ... on the ... plunger after you ... have used it. Hold the world, I wish to get off. I don't need an over-priced electronic super-sensor soap dispensor. Why? Because when I have cleaned my hands with my soothing smelly moisturising soap, I won't be touching the soap dispenser again. Fools. 

I'm spent. Come back soon.