Thanks to all who filled in feedback forms for our "Responding Graciously to Criticism" course.
If that's how you felt we won't be running any more.
"Last month in Canterbury it became clear that such objections were, it seemed, not only being enabled but were becoming a part of the liturgy" - Women and the Church (WATCH) Press Release
|Dean of the Cathedral:||Does anyone have any formal objection to this woman being consecrated as a bishop in the Church of England? Especially remembering she's not exactly the first and we've been through this rigmarole several times now.|
|Dean of the Cathedral:||Oh deep joy. Go on then. Let's hear it.|
|Objector:||Not in the Bible.|
|Archbishop:||Not in the Bible? Listen, matey. My funny hat's not in the Bible. Having Archdeacons ain't in the Bible. Calling people "Father" is explicitly banned in the Bible. Cathedrals aren't in the Bible. Singing "I the Lord of Sea and Sky" at every ordination, consecration, licensing and every service in every Training Scheme since 2004 ain't in the Bible. This is the Church of England. If we only did the stuff in the Bible we'd sing a couple of psalms, give our money to the poor, and go home to do good works. Of course it's not in the Bible.|
|Objector:||Just saying. If I'd known you would get so touchy I wouldn't have brought it up.|
|Dean of the Cathedral:||Does anyone have any sensible objection to this woman being consecrated in the Church of England?|
|Congregation||No. Can we just crack on? This isn't rocket science. We've done it all before now.|
Honestly. Try to set out a positive religious viewpoint in a sermon, and all the nit-pickers and nay-sayers are out nit-picking and nay-saying. If not nay-picking and nit-saying.
Some have said my sermon last night, "I have a Dream", was plagiarism. That I have stolen one of the greatest passages of religious sentiment in the English language and passed it of as my own. That if you lay my sermon alongside the original it is practically word for word.
Well, I will not be abashed or abowed. If people would rather criticise a few minor similarities than grasp the uplifting vision, that is up to them. I will stand by my words, whether they are mine or - purely accidentally and without any plagiarist intent - also someone else's. My defence is that my thoughts were noble and accidentally intertextual.
But these are my thoughts, this is my spirit, this is my story, this is my song. Here I stand, I can do no other. As I said, in the most criticised part of my sermon:
"If you see the wonder of a fairy tale
You can take the future even if you fail
I believe in angels
Something good in everything I see."
Just discovered our Thin Place is now a Pokestop. Really odd. Hyper kids and (mostly) adults go tearing down to the Holy Well, lift their phones and see.... a vision of St Bogwulf.
It's quite a shock all round. Pokeballs are completely useless on Angle saints.
Apologies for the late cancellation of tonight's "Creation v Evolution" debate in the Fretting Room.
The speaker for Creation, Revd APW Twoflower, author of the best-seller "Darwin, Dawkins and the Devil", has unexpectedly evolved into a Charmander. He didn't see that coming.
Still, we expect Revd Twoflower to continue his evangelistic mission. As he said to Charlii on the phone, "Gotta Catch Them All."
Mieke Bal in her essay, "Postmodern Theology as Cultural Analysis", writes the following: "A postmodern theology, then, need not decide whether God exists or not, and which one God has privileges over which other Gods in a multiple society."
I checked Wiki and the good news is that Mieke Bal is still with us and apparently still flourishing. I had a panic that she might have been run over while deconstructing the semiotics of a zebra crossing.
The parish of Giggling St Nicholas with Rolling-in-the-Isles is looking for a new Celebrity Vicar.
Set in a picturesque location featuring a number of offshore bird sanctuaries and two rustic villages, where pink sandstone cottages tumble down to sandy bays, and occasionally tumble enigmatically straight off the cliffs, we are acutely aware that we aren't getting the kind of tourist trade we ought. So we've driven the old, boring priest to a nervous breakdown, and now we're looking for a more telly-friendly model to attract the emmets.
The Celebrity Priest will ideally be young and single. They could be torn by a terrible loneliness, and photogenic when filmed in a boat heading to the little Chapel of St Aggie's Isle (Electoral Role zero). That'd work quite well.
Alternatively they could be one of those jolly ones that we could get on Pointless, who get famous by cracking jokes constantly in the pulpit then going on the stand up circuit. Though, again, a sense of deep sadness would help for the 12-part documentary which features wonderful shots of honeysuckle-covered walls and the sun setting over St Bogwulf Island, as the rooks cry amidst the immemorial oaks (the immemorial elms having all died in the 70s).
Duties will include school assembly visits, where the children will come up with unexpected wisdom and outrageous doubles-entendres. There is a weekly service at the nursing home overlooking the golden sands of St Bloke's Bay. The residents of Giggling Residential Home are spritely, loveable and inclined to tell the sorts of heart warming yet racy stories that should go down well in the 8pm slot.
We have a surgery where the doctor is brilliant, erratic, grumpy but wracked by some terrible heartbreak in the past. So ideally he and the vicar could have an on-off, bittersweet relationship where each occasionally declares they'll have to leave the parish but can't quite do it, and the parishioners have to tell them how much we love them both. Ideally at some point one of them will propose, so we get a cliffhanger to set up another series.
We have services at both our churches, but to be honest not many people go. Though that will give the vicar the chance to agonize over the decline of Western Christianity, while filmed against the beautiful stained-glass of the martyrdom of St Sebastian. Or else crack jokes about everyone having to sit closer together to keep warm.
Belief in God is optional. A good profile is not.
NB - bloggers need not apply. They're not really famous, and they're all pasty and white.
Archdruid: And so, in the circling circle of years, the cycle has circled and so we, like th'encircling circles of a circuitous circle...
All: Can you cut the poetry and pseudo-Celtic drivel? We want to start the barbecue.
Archdruid: And so, as Shiny-Face Dave was the future once, now he is the past. He retires to be an elder statesperson.
All: To speak from above politics, like Major.
Archdruid: Or to sulk cowering in a bunker, like Brown.
All: To loathe his successor and all her works, like Heath.
Archdruid: Or to loathed and reviled by all, like Blair.
All: History will be his judge.
Archdruid: And so, the moving finger writes, and having writ moves on.
All: PMs come and PMs go. But PM's never Gove.
Archdruid: And so...
All: Will you, in the name of Kirsty MacColl, stop saying "And so...?"
Archdruid: Let Dave be gone and Theresa rule.
All: For Winter is Coming.
Archdruid: Not that we're saying she's Jadis the Witch-Queen.
All: Though she'd get the part if she auditioned.
The ritual Wicker PM is taken out and burned.
Archdruid: Let us dance on the ashes of failure.
All: Bring in the Queen of the May!
The ritual New Wicker PM is installed and garlanded with mayflower.
Archdruid: OK. I'll give civilisation 5 years. Let's get the barbie started.
Hymn: Light up the Fire