Struggling for Stability

Sometimes you get weeks when things are busy and then there are weeks like the one I am having at present. It would be fair to say that I am working to absolute capacity this week, simply due to an un-plannable convergence of several factors - largely to do with the Occasional Offices and the needs of Lent and the imminent Passion.

As I sat in London traffic, a few days ago, bang below the landing flight-path to Heathrow, I watched a vast Boeing 747. It was a windy day - the sort you get when weather is fast approaching. It was blustery, so the pedestrians walking up and down West Hounslow's shopping streets were being buffeted all over the place.

And so was the plane. The first thing I noticed as the 600,000lb lump of aluminium descended was that despite appearing to be progressing gracefully in a very straight line (as they all seem to do when they descend), it was in fact flying at a rather odd angle into the wind. It was, to a lesser extent, flying sideways. The next thing I noticed is that as the people on the High Street were being jostled, so was this jet. As it approached my position, the effects of the wind upon it became more noticeable. It was being knocked all over the place. The wing on one side suddenly lifted and the plane made a perceptible slide to the other side. It corrected and the next salvo of invisible air came upon it. In every way, the plane was struggling just to maintain that air of graceful line-drawing to the ground.

As I sat in the car my first reaction was "I know how you feel, plane". The job of ministry is characterised by being very unpredictable. One week has the sense of being "quiet", with time to read and ponder. An hour later and the customary scan of the answer-machine, and a week of abject chaos ensues. In many ways, I have to be seen to be dignified and maintaining course. I don't think that the people of the parish need to be troubled with my wrestling with time and duty - that is not the relationship we have. When the fingertips have the feeling of losing grip in the crumbling edges, I have to look for all the world like I am stood on granite. 

To be sure I am not complaining - simply observing.  There are weeks like this, and all matters squeezed into each one is a privilege. It is just nice to know that at times I am not the only one ... as if I ever was!




As an aside, I have been amused to note that my ditty last week about One Direction has now been viewed in excess of 70,000 times. Such is the unpredictable Interweb!

Busy Church

I don't normally speak of the specifics of the parish church and her life, because I don't have the right to talk about others without their say so, especially as I am one of their priests. I just don' think it is right to use the parish as my blog fodder.

But today I am going to break my own rule. I have just returned to my modest abode after a morning at St. Mary's. Look at the picture - a magnificent little edifice! Costly, though ...

But don't let me keep you in suspenders - there is a reason why I am smashing up my ailing keyboard for your entertainment.

I have left a church with a toddler group in full-swing, comprising at least thirty kids and their chauffeurs - all singing Tommy Thumb and chasing bubbles. I left a group of twenty older kids, with their teachers, enjoying cups of squash after I toured them around the church, the bell tower, and after messing around with incense and the sanctus-bell.  They drew their pictures and asked some very good questions, while I tried to fill in the blanks. In the office, the administrator was dancing the dance of insanely stressed while her accumulated technologies conspired against her. In there too was an engineer trying to sort the issues, the 'folding-ladies' folding the pew sheets, and the faithful admin volunteer working with the one functioning photocopier. In the other corner of the church a gathering of adults who attend a support group were sipping the tea and chatting, and in the other corner of the church the Refectory was trading nicely. The sun cast into the building through our stunning windows, and the church was buzzing. One of the teachers had told me how she had warned the kids on pain of death to respect the silence of the church - and how good it was that it was so busy and active (and friendly), and how much the kids felt at home and relaxed. 

Like so many churches, we have our little problems. We try to get along as well as we can, and so often it comes down to money. Our church is expensive because we insist on keeping it open for everyone to visit, all week. Heating and lighting are not cheap, but we must provide this place. Now this is not an initiative that we can label and put into a self-starter book. I can't market this across the world with subsidies from the pasta industry and by which I can achieve international celebrity. I doubt I could even talk about it very much save for on my own blog. Simply, we opened the church and people came in. They saw and they liked. On this bright Friday morning in March, a church was full of people, all busy, all there by choice, and all happy to be there. 

It's not rocket science, it only costs more.