The Jewels of Ministry

A Note to God

Every once in a while, in good times and in bad, the Good Lord presents moments that shine brighter than any light. I am delighted that today provided one such moment for me.

Just as I started preparing lunch for the family, I received a call from a lady who had taken the number from the church notice-board by the road (that she managed to read it was a miracle in and of itself). She and her husband were celebrating their fortieth wedding anniversary, and as they had been married in Ss Philip & James, could they pop by and visit the church as they were in the area?

Yes, of course, said I. When? This afternoon is fine. See ya then! 

They were with me in the church for the first time since they were married, took some pictures, commented on the changes (of which there were few apparently), and reminisced about their wedding day and the guests. Then Vicar Boy had an idea, one that I presented to them tentatively. They agreed

... and so we had a spontaneous Service for the Renewal of Marriage Vows (as I had the right book to hand). Irrespective of whose idea it was, it was a truly magical moment that made a couple older than my own birth parents newly weds all over again, and acted that way too. If this is parish ministry, then it is the best of things. 

The Thing That Excites Clergy

I grant you that it is the only day in the week that we work, and I grant you that in normal circumstances the work that we do fills only some of the day. It is properly hard being a cleric - such arduous lives. 

Some of you who are reading this and are ordained, or indeed any of you might know what I am referring to. It is that sense of excitement as Sunday approaches. Whether we are leading worship, partaking in it or just observing (itself a useful pastime) - Sundays approach withe a sense of happy anticipation for many of us. 

Perhaps it is just me!

It is often that time when our whole (or a larger part of) community gathers together. Yes, it is a time for gossip and that can often permeate the first verse of the first hymn, but it is a time when we gather as the faithful children of Christ to worship and adore. Some of us, if we are of that tradition, may find renewed sustenance in the Holy Matter of the Eucharist, or simply the release of happy chemicals in the blood when we sing for all we are worth. Compelling times, mostly always happy, with friends and those of a like mind - so why wouldn't we look forward to it. 

Enjoy your Saturday wherever you are reading this - tomorrow is our day once more. 

A Shona Mass, a Gift from Zimbabwe

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Today I have had the particular joy of sharing a Mass with my very dear friends from the Zimbabwean community. Not in Britain by choice, they have moved here and made new lives, families often split even now. I asked them to repeat this hymn in their own language which is my favourite. In the best of time and the worst of times (and 'worst' as I could hardly ever imagine), their faith is summed up in the joy and passion of this hymn. As I said to them, as a result of knowing them I am glad and proud to apply the label of Anglo-Catholic Charismatic to myself. Zimbabwean charismatic worship is still very 'catholic' in flavour, and no-one there could deny the presence of the Holy Spirit. 

Another wonderful, painful, joyful, devastating moment of goodbye - though I hope for only a short while. I sense that I will see these wonderful Christians some more. 

Please do watch the video (forgiving my blunt direction to start them off) - this is the beat of my heart. 

Envisioning One Vision

Apart from being among my favourite Queen songs, 'one vision' is fast becoming my stalking horse. Actually, the words of the song are helpful for many church communities, but that is besides the point!

I am, as you may have noted already, in a liminal space. I am slowly leaving one ministry while at the same time mentally engaging with the next. Yes, that engagement is more to do with the temporal issues of housing and schools, but in the background a whole array of mental processes are springing to life.

Actually, that is not true. If my 'Whitton' stream of thought were a garden, it would be an overgrown jungle of a mess. I have not enough time left on this planet in the best case scenario to ever see through every idea and passion that is growing like bindweed in my little bonce. If I took the time to write them down they may even extend beyond the realms of the humanly possible over centuries. Call it ecclesial daydreaming, but whatever else, it is a nice thing to do. 

However, there is a danger. The vision for Whitton will only be partly mine, and entirely rooted in the 'then and there'. My daydreams are currently out of context and very probably rooted in the happy idyll of curacy. Whilst this daydreaming is good, it is mostly in vain - mostly. In the end, the vision for my next ministry is mine, and only in that it affects me. Any vision I may have for the parish will need to be based upon much listening and talking. That excites me no end. 

Curates who are (or have been) blessed with the prospect of the next job will know what I mean in all of this. For us our dreams are slowing coming true and the aspirations of many years of religiously based fantasising have but moments to draw close to life and light. The tendency is perhaps for us to seek to run before we can walk, of charging in like bulls in china shops - a tendency that we absolutely must temper. All I know with complete certainty is that the transition will be a bitter-sweet thing from a much loved ministry into the unknown, and that in working towards that Whitton One Vision I must take time, work hard and enjoy the journey. It is also worth noting that the soon-to-move-cleric can probably see the most potential in a church - reason enough that we move around from time to time.

I can't wait. 

Loose Liturgy

This is for you Anglo-Catholics and you Charismatics out there!

This is Easter Day, the culmination of the arduous journey of Lent, the steep climb of Holy Week, the pause for relief of Mothering Sunday, the agony of the Passion and the desolation of the Cross. Today is the day when we see Him rise. 

I sit here as a tired little curate, one who earned his pennies this last few weeks. The last twenty-four hours, in our church, have witnessed some extra-ordinary scenes, liturgically speaking. What we witnessed was lively liturgy, liturgy in the moment, worship of the second and of the people there - but I have discovered that it doesn't happen by accident.

Last night we had the great celebration of the Easter-eve Vigil, and with it twelve confirmations and eight baptisms. That meant that we had to re-arrange the church to accommodate what was to take place and those who would  come to witness it (a case for churches without pews, just there). Having such a large gathering comprising many who were strangers to our edifice meant that we were often at the mercy of circumstance, within a framework. I am fast learning that 'catholic' acts of worship are at their best if they compromise to the moment. A liturgy that is wrought-iron might look fabulous and is without doubt beautiful, but it offers no room to breathe. A loose liturgy knows where it is going, what needs to happen, and also what can be sacrificed if the need arose. For the gathering, we hope a healthy mix of the formal and the informal; for the priests, a considerable effort not unlike sailing a yacht close to the wind. Our liturgy was acrobatic, spontaneous catholic liturgy, and it worked. 

Today's celebration of Easter welcomed three little ones for baptism. It meant yet more welcome guests who were unsure of what they were doing. It meant, happily, a coach-load of visiting kids who felt comfortable in our Medieval Barn. Some parents worried that their children were too boisterous, but they weren't.

Knowing what is meant to happen when and where is important. It means that liturgy has structure, direction, flow and meaning. I am not one for excessive spontaneity for fear of getting to the end without having journeyed to all the places required, so I have learned the art of holding tight to the rope, while it hangs loose. To a casual observer, the Eucharist may have seemed chaotic, and perhaps in odd moments it was. I firmly believe that good liturgy tabs into order at given points, with times of fluidity interspersed between them. It is, I think, more tiring for we the leaders of the service, but that is the joy of our work. To be thanked by a visitor to our church with comments about how the formal and informal was helpful, made my day.

Happy Easter to you all. Christ is risen, Alleluia, Alleluia!

What is The Price of a Smile?

You don't need to say it, I just know. Go on, you missed me, didn't you! It's alright, I don't mind you saying so!

Enough of that. I am back in the saddle after a week away with the family and the wife's family in a wooded place without cars where food is costly and the coffee strong. I have cycled up hills, climbed unimaginable heights, spent so much time swimming that under this black shirt I still look like a flabby walnut, have eaten more food than Mr Creosote, slept more than I have in years and won an immoral amount of money at poker (imaginary poker, imaginary money, computer game on the gadget). All in all, a good week has been had, and as I sit here in the middle of my first proper day back, it is a clear blue day and the sun is bright and warm. Kids, I am on top of the world.

I have a choice. I could have written one of about eleven currently embryonic blog posts that clutter my blog-cortex. I choose not to, because I simply want to record how I feel being me in this moment. I think my choice was also made when I saw how many grumpy blog posts were in my Reader, and knowing that I am apt to collude and add to their number, have opted not to! As an aside, what a miserable whining lot us bloggers are at times?! Anyway ...

I want simply to say that I feel great today. I have over a hundred emails wanting something from me, but I don't mind. I have a couple of acute pastoral conundrums to wrestle with, and that is alright too. The garden has sprung into life and needs taming. The cars are be-speckled with the gloop of country roads and need cleaning. All this is just fine. Lent is fast approaching and I have to fully resolve how I will observe it - but that just doesn't seem to matter. I am feeling good, the world is bright, the colours are more radiant, I am capable of anything, nothing can stop me this day. In this day I have received so much already, and the price of a smile? Simply the cost of being glad for what I have.