Trash in your Attic

We call it the "Worship Room". Strictly speaking, no worship ever happens in there. As it's the place up in the loft where we store stuff we've previously used in worship, or might use in the future. And since the day I founded the Community, it has collected the debris that has washed out of the various Moot Houses like so much flotsam and/or jetsam according to linguistic correctness. And we're always a bit nervous going up there, just in case Mrs Rochester has let my brother out for a roam.

And I'll be honest. I've not tidied it up for more than three years. And last time it was just to clear out the pebbles and half-used tea lights. And I'd noticed that there had been a certain build-up of these again. So it was definitely time to do it.

In fact, I was a bit worried, so I let Marston open the door for me. A wise move, as he was buried an avalanche of hazelnuts left over from last year's Mother Julian festival (which we had to hold in the autumn when there are hazelnuts rather than her feast day - you really can't go gathering nuts in May, whatever the song may say). Then as he lay there, stunned but not particularly unhurt, there was a wondering rumbling noise. And he was buried under a mass of pebbles and half-lit tea lights.

We spent half an hour digging him out - unharmed, but smelling of vanilla and lavender. I left a few willing helpers to sort the tea lights out into piles of "reuse" and "dispose", and to ship the pebbles out to mulch the new Mediterranean garden we're building. While I ventured into the Worship Room to see what else we had to deal with.

A real history of changing worship trends was reflected in the hymn and chorus books. 120 copies of "Hymns Neolithic and Bronze Age", stacked up just in case we ever have another revival. There's another 60 copies in the Moot House, of course, which we use ever week. A 1st-edition collection of "Sounds of Living Pebbles", and the sequel "Groans of Living Walters". And the combined "Complete Sounds of Living Pebbles". And then "Complete Sounds of Living Pebbles Extended".  And "Ultimate Sounds of Living Pebbles". And "Ultimate Sounds of Living Pebbles II".

And the "Missing Praise" series, 1 to 9. And "Now that's what I call worship" numbers 1 to 65. And "Sydney Carter's Unforgettable Praise Party". Or at least that's what the covers said. Somebody had pulled all the pages out of the books, to line the cage of the Beaker Earless Bunny. No wonder she always looks so grumpy, having "Lord of the Dance" to read all the time.

And a small plastic loud hailer. Why? And a selection of Wise Women from the Inclusive Nativity Scene. And a selection of dried-up mistletoe from the Celtic Christmas festivities. And another twenty-four pumpkins, although they were all getting a bit squidgy. And five years' dried-out oranges from Christingle.

And a selection of service books. The "Rite of Rolling Stones" from the early days. And "The Beaker Common Prayer (2nd Series - now forbidden) and "The North Bedfordshire Worship Book" (which is just the Northumbria one with the word "Celtic" crossed out in green crayon). And "Thymes and Reasons", a guide to nice aromas for tea lights.

And a random selection of inflatable animals from the "Bouncy Worship". And special glasses for "Worship 3D". And all those papier-mache face masks from that "Come as your favourite Theologian" service (they were all Jurgen Moltmann, as it turned out). And all those assorted brass instruments and animal masks from that Wicker Man festival we swore we'd never have again.

Anyway, we needed the space. So it's all gone. Mostly burned, but you'd be surprised what the Woburn antique market can take off you hands.  Funny really, they all seemed so cutting edge at the time. So now, so spiritual, so happening. And when we get right down to it, we're just back at the Beakers and pebbles and tea lights, all over again.