Giblets Out For Jesus

Hold on to your hats, for a new cause has reared its head.

The consecration of woman as bishops? No!

The scrapping of the Anglican Covenant? No!

The unmasking of The Church Mouse? No!

Equality of rights for gay men and woman? No!

Oh no, this is far more serious. It affects each and every one of us every single day - that age old question:

Should I or should I not wear clothes today?

That's right ladies and gentlemen, a Christian geezer somewhere Over There is campaigning for us all to cry, in one voice:

Giblets Out for Jesus

Placards will be made and blog campaigns waged. Loosen your supports, lay down your trusses, undo your sock-braces and join me as we walk, nekkit, into war against clothing. 

No, really, there is one such bloke who seems to want to grace our world with his trouser-snake and walnut buttocks, taut abs and arms like girders. He believes that public nudity is not just right, but a right, man. It ought to be noted that he has bolted his horse to the back of his cart, because he has already done time for wandering and flapping in the breeze. He also has a business that depends on people favouring being starkers, so it is little surprise. And yes, this fella is a Christian. 

Now, I can see how this might work in our daily churching life. It's OK for the Archbish, because he could grow his beard and conceal his Archiepiscopal Crozier. A new and inventive way of swinging ones incense could be tested. A place for holding ones hymn book between sing-alongs could also be trialled, but only for the more ample lady of course. Alternatives for The Peace are so far shelved, however. There is certainly mileage in this. 

So, Brothers and Sisters, let us join the Campaign to be Nude in Public; after all, under all our clothes, robes and medical appliances we are really very naked. Shun shame, promote pride. If God can know the secrets of our hearts, he must have seen the rest. I now leave your inner monologue to imagine the practical outworking of this!


(My thanks to Gurdur, a most excellent man, for bringing this to brighten my day)

Resolutions, Women, Church and Choices

In regard to church life, there are two stances that I take 

1. I support the calling of all people to all ministries within the church if they are God-given and demonstrable (ie the same marker that I was asked to stand by). 

2. I defend the right of anyone to disagree with the above, and believe that a family should be strong enough to accommodate both/other/all points of view

The tension in holding these two views brings with them some consequences for me. I was looking at the Resolutions as they stand at the moment, and given that they are not much published on the web, include them here: 

Below are the texts of Resolutions A and B, and the provision for Alternative Episcopal Oversight, commonly known as Resolution C, as they apply to parishes. They should be read in the context of the legislation that put them in place – i.e., The Priests (Ordination of Women) Measure 1992 (Resolutions A and B) and the Episcopal Ministry Act of Synod 1993 (Resolution C). 

Resolution A

That this Parochial Church Council would not accept a woman as the minister who presides at or celebrates the Holy Communion or pronounces the Absolution in the parish.

Resolution B

That this parochial church council would not accept a woman as the incumbent or Priest-in-Charge of the benefice or as a Team Vicar for the benefice.

Resolution C

Where the Parochial Church Council of any parish has passed one or both of the resolutions set out in Schedule 1 to the Measure, a decision may be taken jointly by the minister and the council to petition the diocesan bishop concerned to the effect that appropriate episcopal duties in the parish should be carried out in accordance with this Act of Synod

I will start looking at parishes soon as I move to incumbency, so rather than making blanket-presumptions, thought it best to examine the Resolutions. My churchmanship means that I am more likely to come across them. For my part, I believe that I could minister in a parish community that has A and B in place. It is not my role, I believe, to agree with a parish community - but rather to defend the rights of others to hold their views with integrity. I am, of course, in favour of the ordination and consecration of woman - and not even that - anyone whom God calls, whatever their 'label'. I would also hope that a confessing community would also allow me the same dignity. Mutual challenge in those situations can only be healthy if undertaken with absolute respect and openness. I cannot minister to a parish with Res. C in place for the following reason: I cook for my kids, and if they decide that they don't like my cooking we will talk about it, but they will not be allowed to invite another dad in to do it for them. Simple. 

The inverse of all of this is that some would remove all ability for dissenters to dissent, will force issues in some circumstances, and in those moments, people get hurt and become more entrenched in their political and theological perspective. Dialogue dies with prematurity. Churchmouse brought to my attention today a Paper tabled by Frank Field MP that seeks, to my eyes, to force hands. To force legislation in favour of anything renders it forced. Force removes compromise, silences voices, removes choice. The Church of England may stop being an adverse place for some, but it will surely become adverse for others instead - and I do not believe that any of us really want 'the other side' of any argument to suffer the pain that we ourselves may have suffered (and I acknowledge the endless pain in so much of this). Measures like the Resolutions that allow people integrity of choice are, to me, helpful things. We cannot all agree all of the time, and neither should we. We can listen though. 

Blogging as Leveller

You may remember my comments a few weeks ago about this thing that bloggers do (you know, blogging). In that post, I observed that, for myself at least, blogs were largely devoid of gender labels. 

I ought to resolve an issue that I raised there - that my poor observation of gender possessives meant that I hadn't cottoned on to the fact that The Church Mouse is indeed of the male persuasion. There, that's sorted out. 

I have been thinking about this a little more, more especially while we glided near-silently through the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity. Not only is the gender of the writer concerned of little importance but so to is their 'churchmanship' (don't start, 'churchpersonship' takes too long to type, and I have increasing fat fingers).

It is my custom to use my own blog roll (eyes left) as my coffee table of the blog world. I start at the top, tend always to look at posts with thumbnail-pictures first, then the ones with catchy titles, then the blogs of mates, and so on. I read good posts and bad, as I too write good posts and bad. Yes, there is far too much Rowan bashing and Church of England bashing for my liking, but on the whole, the whole arena is more or less devoid of labels like 'evangelical', 'charismatic', 'Anglo-catholic', 'conservative', and so many others. I regard this as an extra-ordinary thing, and one that is wholly good. 

The church of the real world (lest we lull ourselves as bloggers into thinking that posting posts is that thing) is often fractured along the 'churchmanship' lines (speaking for the Church of England). Don't get me wrong, breadth of ecclesial expression is among our strengths, and I am delighted that we are so diverse, but very often we form into clubs, to the exclusion of other Christians - no, really. In blogging, there are cliques and mutual appreciation societies, but no excluding ecclesial clubs. The expressions of worship that each blogger brings is suffused into their writings, not writ-large on the homepage (mostly). It would also seem that, taking social media as a whole, that the same can be said. 

As ever, I wrestle with the nature of blogging. Is it right, is it wrong, why and for whose sake - but of its presence as a leveller I am utterly convinced. Equally, it is a forum where bishops and curates share an equality, where clergy and lay can express together, where catholic and charismatic will listen to one another and respond positively. This can only be good. If a blogger is interested in God (presence or lack, mine or their own) I am interested in them. That interest is not mitigated by what brand of incense they use or whether they wave arms in choruses. Here it doesn't matter. On the whole, bloggers are stable (and not ecclesial chameleons), so it is one part of the conversation that is assumed and not focussed upon. 

A Relevant Church

During the course of this week I spent the day at Aldershot, at the Army Headquarters. For those of you who don't know, and are wondering why a vicar should be hob-nobbing with soldiers, I should point out that by an odd turn of fate I am now a commissioned Officer in Her Majesty's Army - or put another way, the Padre to the Buckinghamshire Army Cadet Force. It was a training day for such men and women as us.

If one were an alien and beamed down to Earth, perchance stopping to note the Anglican Christian blogosphere, one would wonder if the Church had any value or good in it at all. Much vilified in the typed media, it is often delivered as a dead-horse-walking. My visit to Army HQ told me a very different story.

The Brigadier of 145 Brigade (covering a vast swathe of southern England) talked to us about how absolutely crucial the Chaplaincy was, in two ways:

• To the provision of pastoral care and support to the soldiers and their families
• The connection of the Army with the civilian population (for another post)

It is part of the mantra of the Army that is provides a 'Firm Base' to its operations in places such as Afghanistan. It is acknowledged in the language and process of the Army that the chaplaincy is intrinsic to that. This is outworked in a number of ways:

• Padres alongside soldiers on Operations
• Padres caring for families back at base, providing for their pastoral and spiritual needs
• Padres providing a significant volume of the core learning about values during basic training
• A 'firm base' of prayer
• A considerable zeal for mission and evangelism, with some success
• If you want 'undefended leadership' models, the Padres are the only front-line personnel who carry no weapon

For the Army, the church isn't far short of being one of the legs on a stool - a crucial part of the 'whole'. I am new to all of this, but have seen with my own eyes the support and witness that padres (male, female, all denominations) provide to frightened soldiers, triumphant soldiers, soldiers who have lost three limbs in a mine blast, and so on. We visit all 'recovered' personnel at home, regularly, the more obvious provision of funeral rites - but also the joyful matters, the happy times. 

Only when the church stands in a place of real adversity, life and death problems, and not the flaccid half-concerns that we worry about so often in our present day, that we become a community of most potent relevance. A soldier will not fight without his/her scriptures in their pocket, or, it seems, without the padre being there upon his/her return. That is a very relevant church. The church of Blog? An Obese Asthmatic with one leg. The church of the field of conflict and defence? Crucial, valued, vital, respected, loved, alive and kicking. 

May God bless all the men and women who, this day, are risking their lives to fight for a cause that they didn't choose, having answered a call to do their part. May God bring peace in our time, so that they may be returned safe to their families and loved ones. 

Lead, Kindly Light

Prof Walter James CBE

The Obituary page in the Church Times gave me a moment to pause and reflect on my own journey to this place - to the greatest job on Earth, the priesthood (or just ministry in the Church). This week saw the life and contribution of Prof. Walter James remembered. Walter retired to the town where for the most part I grew up, and emerged as a member of our church community during my mid-teens. A goliath of a man with the finest array of teeth you have ever seen, towering over all of us yet thinner than a straw - Walter made it his business to come and talk to our youth group shortly after he started coming to our church. He talked simply and effectively about church life - a talk unremarkable in its Titling, but just one of the nudges that brings me to this screen now as priest. A truly great man, much mourned in Eastbourne

The Rt Revd Dr Mark Green MC

A couple of years earlier, another Church Times obituary was featured, for another wise and wonderful old man, Bishop Mark Green. I met Bp Mark at a Young Church Union event when I was eleven, and he was among the key influences upon my faith journey (he too 'retired' to my parish in Eastbourne - though he started a another 'curacy' in his seventies). He knew of my calling all of the time that I knew him, and was a ready presence of encouragement well into my theological training when age caught him up one night after Evensong. A genuine decorated war hero who never ever told his story willingly, Mark was one whom I could call a friend, an early spiritual director, the man who married Jo and I and as gentle a human as you could care to meet.

These men, to me, are way markers to my obeying God's call on my own life, and for me that is enough. However, they are remarkable for yet another reason that they largely hold in common. Walter James was one of the founders of the Open University, and Bp Mark the Aston Scheme for theological education (Mark was Bishop of Aston). Both these enterprises took heed of the fact that traditional institutions did little for people from my background and family wealth. They saw that people needed education in new and creative ways, and were pioneers in this. Walter identified that some people wanted to read for a degree without the classical A Level background, and Bp Mark identified that people were called to priesthood without possessing higher education backgrounds. Courageous moves like these are reasons why I am in Holy Orders, and those from a background like mine, as I lack the classical education of many in my field. 

To both these men - Walter a man with whom I shared much warmth as I grew up, and Bp Mark whom I loved dearly, I pay my tribute of thanks. Without them, I am not sure what I would be doing right now, but it wouldn't be this. This is surely an account of how affective it can be if we all took an interest in the kids in our churches. They took an interest in me and my friends, and I shall never forget that for the rest of my own life. 

(Bp Mark, an author himself, encouraged me to take up writing on a number of occasions - so blame him for me blogging)

Holocaust Memorial Day 2011

Do not look away, they couldn't. 

It was my honour to visit the Yad Vashem Memorial only weeks ago, and the material in this film is present there and ten fold. 

If you are interested to look, I composed a separate little Blog when I was there - not many posts, and perhaps wildly incomplete. If you are interested to look, follow this link.

Please pray for the living and departed who knew these dark days. Please pray that our children will never see their like. 

I have looked at a lot of films prepared for this day, and this was, in my own opinion, the most evocative. I thank its creator, alaine4488

Do Be Do Be Do Be Do

I come from a fairly ordinary background, one where I was raised and nurtured within a Christian context. I go under the label of 'Cradle Christian'. This means that I have, frankly, been robbed of that moment where I gave my life to Jesus. It was though, kinda, given before I was born (cf Ps 139). Anyhoo ...

When people stand up and start to talk energetically about 'mission', I notice several things.

1. That person seems always to be a man in his fifties with considerable alopecia, round rimmed spectacles, a broad smiley face with very straight white teeth and a strange taste in clerical shirts. 

2. I start to follow the Reggie Perrin line of imagining a scene unfold before me - but this scene is one where imps  chase butterflies with nets, like dementers on a spring morning. The sound of birdsong is overplayed by a less attractive soundtrack that seems to me to be a litany of "Gotcha Gotcha".

3. Lots of verbs, matched by equal numbers of gesticular actions. 

4. Me glazing over, having passed through a state of mild temper. 

I have a heart for mission. I love Christ, and I love the church. I love the community of Christ, and I love the community of the church. I want people to choose Christ as the way the truth and the life. That is where my heart is. But I have always become annoyed in lectures about mission, and I am trying to understand why. 

The main issue for me, I think, is contained in point 3 above. Mission in the classical evangelical sense seems to be an almost all consuming 'Do' thing. It requires plans, actions, models, pasta, chasing, testimony giving, and a whole array of other pieces of 'doing' (except when it involves sacraments, but that is for another post). Mission seems to be a very busy thing to do, very tiring - if these paradigms of mission are regarded as correct. 

Priests are called to 'Be'. As someone said to me today, priests are mission in the person (or words that effect), or put another way - by just 'being', they represent a viable model of mission in themselves. I do not disregard the other mission models, of course. I of all people have much to learn from them, but when they come across to me, a professional Christian, as ecclesial stalking - then I wonder if tweaks are needed. Think of a candle. A candle, by its very nature, is a creature of 'being'. It can 'do' very little except 'be' itself. Yet it casts it light on all who see it, its warmth and hope to. A candle is not designed or built to set other candles alight around it. 

Of course, a candle cannot meet Christ's mandate to go in the world, but I wonder if the mission movements today overlook passivity and stillness, inertia and 'being' to their peril. When I read about the many millions of people who have attended this course or that and then notice that church attendance figures are largely static, I wonder where the missing link in the chain is. I don't have an answer, but I just wonder if it is not to be found in 'being' (and letting God have a part to play, not just us .... ?)

Judging Books By Their Covers

A film has made its way to my attention which causes me much consternation. The film speaks of judging a book. That is fine if you are a literary critic, or if you have something to say that goes beyond just destroying it or its reputation.

There is a man who seeks to do just that. He wants to take a tricky situation, in which there are already too many extremists, and add a further extremism. He offers his opinion as a chosen servant of Jesus Christ, and displays the same hospitality as Caiphas. He seems to want to wage a war of his own, make his name, make his fortune perhaps, by stoking the glowing embers of a fire that he just can't seem to want to let die.

It is an act of generosity and love that is required when regarding the sacred scriptures of any faith. I am not a Muslim, but I do not mean my Muslim brothers and sister any harm. Neither am I a Jew or a Hindu. As a decent citizen, I would not seek to insult something that people help very dear. It can only bring one result - anger and angry reaction. What do I gain by doing that? Nothing. 

I do not recognise the man in this film as called by God. A God who 'is love' does not set fires that will burn people. I do not condone any acts of extremism by members of any faith - all are poor, all harm, all fail to communicate a message except for hatred. They all divide people from other people, they end conversation and dialogue. This 'Christian' man does not speak for me.

What We Read

The age of The Gadget, that in which we exist today, has the potential to inform our perspective of the world in new and interesting ways.

My gadget of choice, an iPod Touch, is many things:

• My music collection in its entirety
• My Bible and at least thirty commentaries
• My daily newspaper
• At least 20-odd board games
• My diary and personal organiser
• My alarm clock
• My breviary (a prayer book)
• A collection of books that I am reading
• The internet
• My emailer
• A photo album
• A radio
• A notepad
• A one-stop entertainment centre for my children
• ... and assorted other things. 

The thing is small enough to fit into my shirt pocket, is by no means the most up-to-date of such gadgets, but is my pride and joy. Bliss. 

It is only recently that is discovered that I could download the Independent newspaper to this thing, before I leave the house, and have it in my pocket to read later, and away from a signal. Bliss. It is about the Independent, and more particularly what it seems they regard as important material for us to read, that is my focus here.

It caught my attention yesterday, the ratios of articles on different subjects. It tells me something about what we Brits (and others) consider as important. I will list the numbers of articles according to the headings given, and will leave you to reflect on them as I still am:

• UK News - 53 articles
• World News - 58 articles
• Sport News - 59 articles (of which Football - 24 articles)
• Business - 50 articles
• Opinion - 30 articles
• Environment - 14 articles
• Travel - 12 articles
• Arts - 53 articles
• People - 1 article
• Politics - 26 articles
• Technology News - 13 articles

So, more column inches for technology than the environment; more for Sport than for most of the other sections combined; more for arts than business ... and so on. With paper news, it is impossible to make these head counts, but with Gadgetry, we can audit our reading wants, our interests, and the interests of our neighbours. Perhaps this is just 'interesting' rather than telling, and maybe not even interesting. Though it was worth observing, though!


Incidentally, so far as I have observed, issues and stories surrounding faith and spirituality (save for when they themselves are the headlines) are to be found in 'Opinion' section!

One of Those Days

You just know it is going to be one of those days when:

• Get up
• Make the kids' breakfast.
• When walking out of the kitchen, my sleeve caught on a magazine on the worktop, and sent everything around it flying across the floor.
• I turned round and walked into the kitchen door-frame, sending breakfast and milk all over the carpet.
• Making tea for wife and coffee for me, I poured the water into the mug, where it found the teaspoon at the just the right angle to cause said boiling water to re-emerge from the mug vertically, all over the place
• Reprimand from wifelet for the mess
• Pouring milk in tea and coffee, the spout on the new carton caused the milk to avoid a mug, all over the place
• Preparing my cornflakes, the poured milk found the obligatory cornflake that sends all milk that comes into contact with it into orbit
• Opening the curtains, I managed to send the digital picture frame skittering across the floor.
• It is only 08:19am

I perhaps should not be surprised. This has all happened in the same week that my car had been driven into twice, where the wipers on the other car decided to spontaneously knit themselves into a scarf while I drove to a funeral in driving rain, where a blog post melted and had to be scrapped, the printer decided it wasn't wireless any more and required a defibrillator, and the cat chose my pillow to blow chunks on (be sick, that is to say).

Mary Mother of God, pray-ay-ay for me ....

The Risks of Blogging

This is the thing ... we buy us a computer, we flick the switch, lights flash and things are possible. Some people play Risk other people play with risk. Some people move money or stare at piccies of the kiddies. Others think a think and write it down in a box, press 'publish' and go to bed. 

Blogging is something that I am trying to work out. I am a long way from a resolution, so continue until I am either fully convinced of its rightness, or conversely, reach the moment when I shudder, have a word with myself, and cease fire. 

I can understand why people read blogs. Oddly, though, I cannot fully understand why we write them. Does that sound daft? Tough. Some stuff has reached my attention this week that has reminded me in stark terms that this is a risky old business. Let me tell you why.

1. When we write, we are often sat alone in a room. We think our think, we splurge it across our computer screen and then send it to the whole world, without moderation, editorial advice or even a moment to assess the sense in what is written. It seems to me to be unique in the written arts. Authors of printed material will never have a book read once without the input of others. Why the input? To measure credibility, accuracy, potency and valency. More importantly, they are the ones who will warn you off a pathway. Blogging is like a journey without a map, done at speed. We travel across terrain that we know only in part, that is riddled with mines - all the while hoping that we will survive. 

2. What we say of ourselves is never just a matter for ourselves, unless we live in a hermitage. Our past deeds, good or ill, have had effects on others, and they often have a voice in those events. Blog fodder is not value-free in that regard. I may love telling you that my kids daub poo in one another's hair, but they have no opportunity to have a 'say' in whether or not Blog Dad tells the entire population of humanity about it. Bloggers sometimes run the risk of reducing the rights of others in the accounts they/we give, especially when those events caused pain even decades previously. Other people are always implicit in what we write about, often voicelessly, often without a say. 

3. If I ran the risk of personal affront or insult every time I walked down the street, I would choose not to. Yet we bloggists run that risk with every post we publish. We could talk about something innocuous but have the comments boxes hijacked. A co-blogger has found this out recently, much to his sadness, I think. Since I left school, I have only ever been properly insulted in blog comments. Why is this so? Because commenters too sit in a room alone with a computer. Insulting people like that is easy; quite unlike in the flesh when I would be far less likely to be name-called! 

4. I have said it before, and I shall say it again. When we press 'publish', we bloggerising folkses know well what we meant. What is received by those who read the post is quite beyond our control. This is largely a matter dealt with in comments - but sometimes it isn't. Hurt and upset caused unintentionally is doubly hurtful, because neither party wants it. Lack of eye contact, a poor choice of words perhaps, an 'in joke' that doesn't travel  - they all get splatted on our blogs sometimes - and run a very specific risk!

5. What we say may haunt us. If we are lucky, it is a good thing. Sometimes, it won't be. I am endlessly surprised that my most 'read' post was an ill-planned never-commented-on piece written in haste on a Sunday. Well over a thousand separate views of that have been made. I would never have predicted that. There is nothing to say that my words won't come back to haunt me in a decade or twenty years time. Bloggers run the risk of time. We need also to write to people in ages to come - we have no idea what will happen to our material in the end. 

A few thoughts, and a list that could grow. But for now, I will stop tapping and let you finish reading!

Christians and Jews

Once again, it has been my good fortune to be considering some work with an organisation that seeks to increase understanding between Christians and Jews. I am glad of the invite. 

Until my visit to Jerusalem last October (see my separate, contextual blog), I must confess that my working knowledge of Judaism was text-bookish and informed by some stories that were around 2000 years old. I have since learned a great deal.

Added to this is the fraught issue of Israel and Palestine where lines seem to me at times to be blurred between Jew (religious) and Jew (Israeli), and in some cases there are clear distinctions. I receive regular pieces of correspondence from a Christian Jerusalemite with much to say about the treatment of Christians in Jerusalem and indeed the whole of Palestine. One day I must respond to him, and to challenge much that he says that troubles me. 

I am trying hard to piece all of this together. In my heart, I recognise that Jews and Christians share the same root system. We have lots in common, not least of all the great slab of Scripture that we share. Of course, we are different, but so much is similar. Jesus Christ was himself a Jew - and although he taught away from that corpus of Law, was nonetheless, an observant. 

There is too, the anti-Semitism that permeated much early Christian thinking. I understand, even if I do not share, the emotions of those who sought to judge the 'murderers of Christ' - ever mindful that the Grand Plan of our salvation demanded that the Jews did exactly what they did. I want to work out how my Christian ancestry and its world-view affect me in my time.  

In essence, I am excited about the possibilities for Jewish-Christian relationships. I believe it is one that can be a strong voice against oppression for either community. I have enjoyed worshipping with a Jewish community in Jerusalem. We are, after all, using the same words, about the same God. It seems important to me to have a feel for, a sympathy and understanding for, and dialogue with the Jewish community. I regard them as nothing less than brother and sisters in faith. 

I'll keep you all posted!

The Poor Selling of Salvation 2

I wrote a piece on my views about how we set our stalls as churches, and drew the parallel between church life and how that translated into a retail experience. My hope was that it represented a poor experience for the visitor, born of far too much presumption. If you fancy a read, here is the link.

In a comment made about the post (to my face), it was said that it closed too early, and I acknowledge that there is more that can be said, and perhaps should be. Thanks for to Stuart over at eChurch Christian Blog for inspiring me today with his article on IKEA and the mean means that they use to get you to buy their buyable bits and bobs! Again, visit him here - it is a good read!

Retailers have a fairly complex science that is designed to get you in, make you stay, buy more and then come back. Terms like 'units per transaction [UPT]', 'average transaction value [ATV]', 'key performance indicators [KPI]', 'loss-leading lines', and so on. Add to that background music that is not at all accidental, and is, in fact geared to mimic the desired heart-beat of the 'desirable' customer, and you have a Palace of Manipulation. That is retail, it always was, do not be upset. 

In short, a retailer's best endeavour is to convince their customer to increase their UPT. They achieve this by arranging their stores in a very specific way (IKEA being a fine example of this done well). You do the work for them - you pick up items you didn't come in to buy. In other establishments, the more sales-orientated ones (furniture, flooring, electrical, vehicle), it is less likely that serendipity will increase their UPT, so a KPI for the sales-staff (and often a way that they are rewarded) is simply to ask you to buy something else as well as the thing to came in to buy. You will not buy a carpet without being asked for your underlay needs. You will not buy a car without being asked about warranties. And so on. In increased UPT will drive up the ATV, and with add-on sales being the more lucrative for the retailer (and what we really want you to buy if we are honest), the margin (profit) increases exponentially. In my retail life, I was the expert at maximising gross-margin - a less than noble claim, perhaps!

If I remove the language of commerce and profit, I believe that there is some mileage in this mindset being applied to the prize on our own stalls: The Lord Jesus Christ, son of God. We are not in the business off selling, of course, but we are in the market (in part) for making disciples and hoping that they stay and become loyal. We are here to enhance the experience, meet needs with the benefits on offer, commend the experience - and we always hope to know if that was a worthy experience and learn from failures. The same as retail in any form.

If we take the 'belong, believe, behave' model of Christian discipleship - there is a direct parellel between discipleship and commercial enterprise. When we open our churches, they should grab people off of the streets - and this can be done in many ways. Darkness, closed doors, no 'staff', emptiness - all these things are barriers. Locked doors can never be entered, if it indeed it needed saying. Many people will come into our churches without a 'master plan' to do so. Life brings them in to our communities and places of worship - so we have to be focussed on what enhances the experience and encourages a lengthier stay. Then the next visit, and then the third. Increasing the quality of the experience will add value to the visit for the person in question (their transaction value,in other words?). We meet their needs, by the way - not tell them what their needs are! If we are blessed, and they identify a reason to stay and not frequent the competition, they will become more and more involved in the life we would then share (doing more, units per transaction, perhaps). 

This is not intended to be a needless contortion of two distinct worlds. I have learned much from retailing, and believe it has much to offer church life. If all Christians paid the same quality of attention to newcomers as sales-staff do in stores (irrespective of motivation), then our churches would be filled to capacity, and then some. I could write more, but this post is ample enough!

Doubt

A brief moment bound up in a couple of exchanged comments with Dr Bex Lewis has provided something of the last straw for me. No, she has said nothing to upset me, just nudged me to write about something very close to my heart that I regard as the shadow in me that I seek to avoid, or at the least look away from.

I don't have a great deal of time for guilt as a pastime. I see no point in it, no sense in it, and regard it as an emotional millstone that for some comes with a set of halogen lights to attract best attention. It takes effort to carry, brings with it no collateral gain, and is just not a phenomenon I can be too involved with! Make a mistake, live with it, learn from it, move on. Life is a moment more 'over' than it was just then. Waste none of it ...

However, I have my own millstone. It is one that I think is largely universal, but in the circles that I mix in - Christian ones, ordained ones - it is 'an inconvenient truth' for many. But I have to say in clearest terms, that there are times when I have doubts about it all. 

My doubt has a catastrophic face. It isn't a doubt about the virgin birth, the resurrection, angels or anything like that. No, my doubt is bigger. I have little moments, my bubbles of 'nothing', where what I believe the other 525,540 minutes of the year, seems like the greatest pile of nonsense ever thought up. It feels like a hoax, that actually, of course we are just an accident of chemicals and energies a fortunate distance from a star. How on Earth do dead people become not dead? How the dickens can a women hold a child without exchange of cells with another human? I have moments where I am convinced that I have got it all very very wrong indeed. Oddly, that is when I feel guilty - not for thinking the thoughts, but that I have been complicit in the greatest con ever known. These moments happen, not often, but they do. 

Then they pass. Doubt can be less catastrophic in its ankle-pecking for me too. I encounter 'blog despondency' (I am not alone) more than you might imagine. This is about the sheer presumption of hoping that even one person would read what I write. Such laudable blogs exists, and there is a list to the left of these words - yet I presume to add my  two pennyworth. Even pleasing 'results' don't assuage that one always. The dog-collar thing is another one. There are times when I feel like I am in fancy-dress, that this retailer will wake back up and be back counting rugs, like he should be. This priesthood lark is too good to be true, and at times, that translates into '...so it can't be'. I would hate to suggest that God made a mistake, but days come around where I wonder if he broke his duck with me (assuming we overlook the Fiat Multipla). 

I will post this in the morning, at the start of a new day. Today has been a good day, and the culmination of a wonderful weekend completely devoid of doubt. Why am I writing about this now? Partly Dr Lewis, partly because if I tried to write about this on a 'bubbles' day, I'd probably delete this blog outright.

Mystery and Beauty

The most beautiful things in the world are the most mysterious

I heard this saying in the most unlikely of places, yesterday. Such was its effect on me, that at the end of a long day filled with many things, it was still the breaker crashing around in my head as I tried to submit to sleep.

When I heard it, it stuck to me. I knew it to be true without formulating a mitigation or argument. I think that you know it too.

In my world, one of faith and family, this saying has particular valency. Equally, as a priest, I am also one of the people most apt to desecrate the mystery of much beauty. In my sermons, in these blog posts, I try to explain things away - as much for myself as for you, but it is what I do.

The Holy Trinity - surely the most beautiful thing that we can know. That incomprehensible dialogue between the Three who form the Whole - how may centuries have been devoted comprehending that mystery? 

The Blessed Virgin Mary - submission and acceptance of a fate that none of us would have chosen. Beguiling eyes, a pure heart, such perfect love; innocence beyond measure.

The sacraments - overwhelming gifts of grace with nothing less than the fingerprint of God upon them. To receive is to know. The beauty of a man laying down his life that I, my children and their children may live, laid down willingly but not completely gladly. 


Love ....

Children - they embody the white-light of hope and potential, an inspiration to all who look upon them.

These and so many more things are just stunning to me. The natural world and even the inventions of humankind - all have a beauty that is held in place by mystery. In a few moments, I will stand before a small congregation and offer for them things of such beauty, all the while reducing their mystery. To do one is to reduce the other. Some things just don't need to be explained, they just need to be. 

#Facepalm

The title of this post, Lord and Lady Uninitiated, is what we commonly refer to in the trade as a "hashtag". It's a Twitter thing. 

Nevermind.

Anyway, I am fast becoming fond of this gesticulation as it best represents moments in my inner-monologue that seem to become more the norm than the exception. 

Today, I did what I do in the morning (a 5.55am rise, so quite late today), and downloaded the Indy to my device of choice that I may verily read as the progeny consider the merits of The Adventures of Piggly Winks. It took me four minutes to thrice #facepalm.

1. You have a police-person, and he is given a job of policing. Nothing unusual in that, but what I haven't yet told you is that Officer Dibble was in fact an under-cover officer, and it would appear that he took that brief to the Nth degree. He married one of the people he was supposed to be spying on. Now that, ladies and gentleman, is really going above and beyond the call of duty. One can only imagine how the conversation went: "When I look into your eyes, my heart melts. Your skin is like softest satin. My love, I have a fire burning in me that I can no longer quench; but my love, before you can be mine I must confess that I have been spying on your for months 'cos me and the boys want to nick you and yer crew". Who said romance was dead? 

2. You have a police-person, and he is given the job of policing. Nothing unusual in that, but what I haven't told you is that Officer Dibble was in fact a close-protection officer (what? Oh, 'bodyguard') to none less than the Shadow Chancellor. Look after Mr Johnson, said his job description; take the bullet, make the tea, move unruly hecklers to one side, wear a natty earpiece - those kind of things. Well it appears that he took "looking after" to a whole new plain. Allegedly, he was looking after the wife of said politician in the absolute biblical sense of the matter. One can only imagine how the conversation went: "When I look into your eyes, my heart melts. Your skin is like softest satin. My love, I have a fire burning in me that I can no longer quench; but my love it is your wife whom I must pursue, for she have prettier legs than you, innit." Who said romance was dead? 

3. You have a Mayor of a town, tootling to work in his motor car. He drives past the school near his home, waving to the children who have gathered at the roadside to regard his passing journey. Such a tight community, such loyal devotion to their civic leader. Then they tell him he was speeding and he got vexed. The children were in fact engaging with the subject of road-safety by speed checking passing drivers. 33mph (that's old money, you in America reading this) in a 30mph zone. What a numpty! However, his humility is the worthy recipient of my last #facepalm today. No, he didn't apologise. No, he didn't hold up his hands to the crime. No, the man complained that kids should be in class, not learning lessons by the side of the road. If ever there an example of a red-faced sore loser, there you have it, right there.

Men and the Church Part 2

So, let's do this thing. As I thought about how to approach this, I worried about the fullness of it - and so I must remind you, faithful reader, that this is a blog, so as much a scrapbook or notebook for ideas. If you are looking for a full treatise on the subject - you may find your glass less than full! One may follow if this leads me to a roll!

So, why are we here? Some of us identify a problem, and that is that there are too few men in our churches. In my preamble, I touched on labels and how they trouble me, partly because they are what they are, but also because they ignore the differences in men. We should always, and with urgency, drop the labels.

Any strategy that seek to attract people into anything needs to acknowledge at the outset, that those people are all different. Different in needs, tastes, personality, age and so many other things. Oddly, in for retailers, it is a far easier proposition. For example, the flooring industry knew that its target market was women within a fairly specific age-range. So, it marketed to them. The makers of Peppa Pig merchandise can be fairly specific about who they ply their wares to. For the church it is less easy. We want to be attractive to men, but how can we be attractive to all men all of the time. 

We can't! Of course we can't. 

Let us consider 'men' for example. We range from Mickey Rourke to Rowan Williams; Alan Carr to Alistair Darling' Peter Tatchell to "Pastor" Terry Jones; Hulk Hogan to Hillary Benn; Tony Blair to Tom Jones; Bill Hybels to Boris Johnson. How the church sets out its stall has to acknowledge these differences. There isn't a concise model of 'male human' - how much more boring if there were.

Oddly, on one point I can be sure that all men would agree - we would not welcome labels that are prefixed un- de- or non- . Such labels would have the happy effect of equalizing all differences in a shot. 

For me, the only way is to stop trying to please all of the people all of the time. The difficulty with that is that you please no-one not never! Easy said, yes - but how many efforts exist that are just one-stop Men traps. Surely, a better way is to make the distinction between what we think men want and what men actually want. I don't want to be told what I want or need, I want someone to listen to me say what I want and need, and then maybe help me realise that hope (not make it happen for me, importantly). Listen to me, hear me (there is a major difference there, often ignored). 

The first 'D' in this little journey is about a mindset. A mindset that seeks to 'fix a problem', apply models that look great on flip-charts, will be bankrupt. A mindset that divides men into categories fewer than the sum total of all living males on this earth will also be bankrupt. A mindset to celebrate difference, engage with it, make the distinction between what we think and they think about it all, and of course, dropping labels - there has to be a penny or two profit in that!

Part of me regards this is a statement of the blinking obvious - then I wonder...

The Future?

Life is a funny old thing. We have no choice but to accept the call and take one step at a time, in a straight line from the beginning to the end.

We are born, and our parents give us the best start that they can. Why? So that we may grow strong and healthy, and happily too. We acquire simple skills that will serve us in our one-step-at-a-time journey, and we increase that list with each day. Our parents fret about schools and the opportunities that they may bring. Why? They want us to achieve fully and to realise some of our potential. Why? So that we can obtain some life-skills, gather a few marks on paper. Why? To get to the next good school and take that process on to the next level. More marks on paper, more life-skills (if we are lucky and live in the right places, and born into the right families). School follows school, followed by college maybe. We gather skills and marks so that we can leave school or college well-equipped to either make use of those life skills or hone them further at a university.

Childhood is about learning, growing and acquiring, so what of adulthood? To me it seems that it is about earning, growing and acquiring. Why? Either to have the best 'stuff', or raise a family in the most conducive environment possible (or both of those things, if really fortunate). If childhood was done well for us, we hope to be healthy and vital, equipped to move through a working life and meeting its challenges. We start at the bottom and over a generation, hop gently 'upwards' in the means by which we provide for ourselves and our families. Junior status gives way to senior status, and with any luck, we take in the scenery as we go. 

Adulthood, like the roller-coaster ride that it is, goes up-diddly-up-up, and then goes down-diddy-down-down as bits of our mortal framework start to to have other ideas. We display signs of ageing and we experience the onset of the rigours of increasing age. We may be a fighter-pilot, we may be a CEO of a multi-national corporation, we may be the man who sweeps the street. We will have raised our families, given our children the best that we could. Why? So their cycle starts. If all goes as we plan, we reach a point where we stop being a General in the Army or the one who sat at Till 21 for as many years. We become pensioners - old together. The only outward signs of who we were is perhaps where we now live. Our bodies start to fail and life takes its own toll on us. 

It seems to me that it as that point that we become rather irrelevant. I read an article recently about one person's experience of old-age care, as meted out to their grandparent. It made for difficult reading, not because I didn't recognise its laments, but because I did. I am glad to say that my experience of care-homes and residential homes for the elderly in Aylesbury has been nothing but good. I visit some, and they are good places, often fraught with the constraints that life imposes upon them too.

What I do recognise, and something I pray will pass me by (some hope), is that there comes a time when a lot of us will need to be cared for in a home. If we are really lucky, we will be in our old age - not a flippant comment, as I know of a woman in her fifties who has resided in such homes for three years already, and is likely to live until she is in her eighties (but that is another story). Boredom is a big thing in places like that. Not necessarily through fault, but because of failing bodies and an inability to be and do what we once were and did - all the while retaining vital minds the same as we were in our twenties in some cases. Imagine being a former spitfire pilot, a veteran of the Battle of Britain, when all you can do is sit in a chair and watch Loose Women? A gentle life as a reward, or a curse for those who reach old age? Whilst I pray that I live a long life, see my family grow and their families too, I also fear what extreme frailty and old age bring with them. 

I also know that there is more that I can do as a man in my 30s to help those in that situation.