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Sunday, 29 April 2018

The Real Takeover of the Church of England

Ignoring the spurious takeover of the Church of England by the evangelicals, the Bishop of Burnley tells us that the selection procedures for ministry in that denomination favour the middle classes.

Well, you could have knocked me down with a Toyota Rav4. An establishment whose leadership traditionally came from the landed classes, and which requires its members be able to know where to look in at least two and possibly three books in order simply to take part in its regular meetings. How could it be that it favours literate, assertive people in its selection criteria? After 500 years of the Church of England, in 400 of which the best qualification for being an incumbent was being related to the patron - how could this have happened? But I reckon it is in fact true. The Church of England has in fact been taken over by the posh. It happened in the 16th Century - if not earlier. And, like Cybermen, your best chance of joining the club is to be like them. If you're not like them, get assimilated. And so the Church of England continues its merry way, the last refuge of the 18th Century.

An - ahem - acquaintance of mine can indicate some personal experience here. On a Bishop's Advisory Panel, he discovered that one of the Advisers was the Archdeacon of Charing Cross. Although this particular candidate was working class in upbringing, he was fortunate enough to have got into Oxford, where he had learnt to treat people with silly titles with equanimity. And so he was merely able to reflect that he had accidentally wandered into a Trollope novel. If he'd been by trade a welder, he might have decided to have a few at the bar and then just legged it for Stafford station.

Now I'm no student of Anglican culture. But I'd like to make some suggestions. Have a look, see what you think. There may be something in some of them. And if not, maybe your realisation of my mistake will help you to come up with something better.

  1. As people in business are gradually realising, "leadership" is a very amorphous concept. "Leadership" often just means "self confidence". People who are brought up knowing where the next croissant is coming from, who have been taught that they can achieve their aspirations, will have more self-confidence than those who have struggled throughout. Having to succeed from a working-class background can make assertiveness look like aggression - because one has always had to struggle. Confidence is an illusion. Advisers and DDOs* should really be looking for competence.
  2. Don't have people with grand titles as BAP advisers. Or if they are, just let them say they're called "Jim". Unless they're women of course. But then, I'm not going to oppress them. Jim it is. Best of all, get some people with local accents and let them be BAP advisers. If you're from a working class town and you end up talking to an adviser who lives in a limestone cottage in a rural village - what's that going to tell you?
  3. Consider working-class attitudes to education, training and relocation. To a posh chap from Wiltshire, who spent three years at Durham University, another two years at "Staggers" might sound quite reasonable. To a working-class woman from Swindon, it might seem like an alien existence.
  4. Don't use stupid, public-school terminology like "Staggers".
  5. Likewise, consider time constraints and flexibility in training. A shop manager will have the team-building, leadership and - let's face it - entrepreneurial skills to be a good minister. In this world of dispersed courses, with maybe fortnightly getting-together for seminars and residential weekends - how do you give them the chance to get there?
  6. That and times ten for a single parent with a job.
  7. And if you're asking yourself "should a single parent with a job or a shop manager with shifts be even considering ministry?" then you're part of the problem.  
  8. And don't diss non-residential training. As the Church of England becomes more like the Flyte family, clinging to genteel existence while having no money and living off appearances and the past, economics are important. And yes I know that even using this reference has put a certain stamp on me. And no I don't care. It was deliberate. 
  9. Consider the "Common People" syndrome. Well-heeled types might feel called to inner-city or working-class estate ministry. But they are also essentially aliens there. This means they are likely never truly part of that community - they are always "ministering" to the "ministered".  Is that the model of church we want? And, like the Greek with a thirst for knowledge who studied sculpture at St Martin's College, if the worst comes to worst there's a good chance they can call their daddy, who'll stop it all. Somebody who came from that neighbourhood will see it differently. They'll know not to trust the locals. They might decide they'd rather do anything than go back there. But they will, like it not, belong. Or they might really want something rather different.
  10. During preaching training, telling someone they should "enunciate better" really means that they should sound more like you. And if you say like Prince Charles that's not necessarily a good thing. Apart from Prince Charles, obviously. But if he's training for the ministry then (a) you know there really is a problem with class and (b) he's decided his mum's going to live forever. Good luck to her, I say. Gord bless 'er.
  11. Sherry receptions at residential weekends? Really? Do you know what century it is?


* Diocesan Directors of Ordinands - clerical talent-spotters


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Want a good laugh? Want to laugh at the church? Want to be secretly suspicious that the author has been sitting in your church committee meetings taking notes? Then Writes of the Church: Gripes and grumbles of people in the pews is probably the book for you.

From Amazon, Sarum Bookshop, The Bible Readers Fellowship and other good Christian bookshops. An excellent book for your churchgoing friends, relatives or vicar. By the creator of the Beaker Folk.

The Church of England's Evangelical Takeover

The Revd Angela Tilby, for whom I have a great liking and respect, prays in the Church Times for salvation from the Evangelical Takeover. I will say that I think this is misjudged.

Firstly one would think that evangelicals are a monolithic movement for this "takeover" to be going on. Whereas in fact they're a bigger bunch of splitters than the Popular Front for the Liberation of Judea. Put two evangelicals in a room and you'll get three opinions. There's a reason why there were twenty or so Methodist denominations in this country - sincerely held beliefs in disagreement. And a reason why there's now so few - decline. Evangelicals don't do detailed agreement.

Secondly because it's expressed as a communications issue. The world is looking for meaning, and how can it get it from people who have found something truly meaningful, appears to be the question.

Thirdly is a kind of combination of Firstly and Secondly. If the evangelicals are now taking over, but people already lack the spiritual framework to find meaning in life - then whose fault was that? Which movement was in charge of the Church of England, all those years when society was losing its spiritual vision? Because apparently it wasn't the evangelicals.  They're   only just taking over now. Anyone want to volunteer to take that blame?

 Fourthly, it wasn't evangelicals that invented tea lights and pebbles in Church. It was, for the most part, certain liberals who wanted the spiritual experience of the catholics and evangelicals, but without all that baggage of having to believe too much. Why   would an evangelical waste their time with cutting out cardboard flames when there's spiritual battles to  fight and Good News to share? Why, for  that matter, would a catholic waste their time lighting a tea light for beauty spiritual connection when there's 6 foot candles and God in organic form on the altar?

So an evangelical takeover of the C of E would  mean a believing, eager, Gospel -sharing presence in every part of England. Far more open than their brothers (and sisters) of the same description in the US (or even  other English churches). Maybe something looking like a  hope for the country. It won't happen of course. Not at Canterbury -speed. There's still churches in the Church of England that are basically pretending the Reformation didn't happen, after all.

 Give it  ten years. Then we'll have someone complaining the liberals have taken over again.




Want to support this blog?
Want a good laugh? Want to laugh at the church? Want to be secretly suspicious that the author has been sitting in your church committee meetings taking notes? Then Writes of the Church: Gripes and grumbles of people in the pews is probably the book for you.

From Amazon, Sarum Bookshop, The Bible Readers Fellowship and other good Christian bookshops. An excellent book for your churchgoing friends, relatives or vicar. By the creator of the Beaker Folk.

Saturday, 28 April 2018

Ritual for Ed Balls Day

Archdruid: Ed Balls to you.

All: And Ed Balls to you too.

Hymn: Ed Balls with a Grateful Heart

Archdruid: Ed Balls

Hnaef: Ed Balls

Charlii: Ed Balls

Young Keith: Ed Balls

Burton Dasset: It's not true about the bogies, you know.

All: YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO SAY ED BALLS.

Burton: Oh, OK. Ed Balls.

Stacy Bushes: Ed Balls.

Ed Balls: Ed Balls.

Hymn: Ed Ball's Confession of Why He Tweeted That Tweet: "Yvette, I've had a few. But then again...."

Archdruid: May the joy of Ed Balls day be with you every day.

All: And Balls to you too.



Want to support this blog?
Want a good laugh? Want to laugh at the church? Want to be secretly suspicious that the author has been sitting in your church committee meetings taking notes? Then Writes of the Church: Gripes and grumbles of people in the pews is probably the book for you.

From Amazon, Sarum Bookshop, The Bible Readers Fellowship and other good Christian bookshops. An excellent book for your churchgoing friends, relatives or vicar. By the creator of the Beaker Folk.

A Shocking GDPR Revelation

Young Keith has now finally managed to explain to me that "GDPR" is not a former soviet republic, but instead a regulation on how organisations manage personal data. This being the case it appears that we are an organisation and I am a "Data Controller". Doesn't sound as impressive as Archdruid, but whatever.

So I am hereby letting all Beaker Folk know about the data we hold on them.

You remember all those times we have creatively used a "sin shredder" to represent the way in which are sins are totally forgotten? You may remember the way it did for poor old "Rubbles", the Hamster of Atonement. Well, after the unfortunate incident with Rubbles, we agreed we needed a more creative way to deal with the sins that had been shredded up. One that would not cause an innocent rodent to die terribly.

And so we've been sticking them back together each time. And I now have a comprehensive list of the individual sins of everyone in the Beaker Folk. And that includes you, "Phantom Bogie Flicker". Or as I should now call you, Burton.

You will no doubt be thinking that, in the circumstances, you should go and complain to somebody about this terrible abuse of the information you thought you had been blotted from history. Well, should you do anything like that, be aware that the Avenging Angel (me) will be only too happy to gather from the Recording Angel (Hnaef) exactly why it is you'll wish you had done no such thing.

In the meantime, I am happy to declare that tomorrow is Freewill Offering Day. I'm sure you will be only too pleased to ensure this is the most generous day in the history of this event. Won't you, person who'll be wishing he'd never booked that one-night stay in a Premier Inn in Burnley?



Want to support this blog?
Want a good laugh? Want to laugh at the church? Want to be secretly suspicious that the author has been sitting in your church committee meetings taking notes? Then Writes of the Church: Gripes and grumbles of people in the pews is probably the book for you.

From Amazon, Sarum Bookshop, The Bible Readers Fellowship and other good Christian bookshops. An excellent book for your churchgoing friends, relatives or vicar. By the creator of the Beaker Folk.

Friday, 27 April 2018

Learning from Amber Rudd

I've had people asking some awkward questions regarding the "duck pond" incident. But the good news is, I've got some advice from Amber Rudd. So I'd like to make the following clear:

I said I never knew 20% of the people working in the Doily Shed were thrown in the duck pond. So I said that 20% of people working in the Doily Shed weren't thrown in the duck pond. It actually turns out that 20% of the people working in the Doily Shed were thrown in the duck pond. This is a coincidence. I didn't know. How could I know? Just because my room overlooks the duck pond. And there's a fence around the duck pond. With a gate to which I have the only key.

Then I said that nobody had ever told me about the policy of throwing people in the duck pond. Emails have now emerged in which Young Keith told me "I've successfully thrown them all in the duck pond, in accordance with the policy." So OK maybe I did know something about it. But it's not my fault. I was probably busy.

Some people have claimed I specifically ordered the policy of throwing people in the duck pond. Nothing could be farther from the truth. And just because someone has found a memo I wrote saying "It's really important that 20% of the people who work in the Doily Shed be thrown in the duck pond," that should not be taken as evidence that I have ever ordered people to be thrown in the duck pond. Or, at least, not that specific duck pond. I never said which duck pond.



Want to support this blog?
Want a good laugh? Want to laugh at the church? Want to be secretly suspicious that the author has been sitting in your church committee meetings taking notes? Then Writes of the Church: Gripes and grumbles of people in the pews is probably the book for you.

From Amazon, Sarum Bookshop, The Bible Readers Fellowship and other good Christian bookshops. An excellent book for your churchgoing friends, relatives or vicar. By the creator of the Beaker Folk.

Thursday, 26 April 2018

Why a Priest Stands Quietly With Their Eyes Glazed While Setting up For Communion

It's that moment, before the "Communion" part of an Anglican service, just as the table is being set out (unless of the bread-roll variety of evangelicalism) when the priest stands quietly, with her/his eyes apparently glazed, and looks very serious.

You may think they're having an extra special prayer that the whole thing goes well. And you may well be right. There's a good chance that they're praying they don't knock anything over, or their knee doesn't lock during a genuflection. These things prey on priests' minds. Or will from now on if they're read this.

But the other thing they're doing is of some seriousness as well. They're working out how many wafers to consecrate.

They need to try and get it right. Sufficient to feed everyone and, if of a more Catholic tendency, to reserve some wafers. But not so many that, at the end of the service, somebody has a substantial number to consume so as not to leave dozens in the ciborium* for next time.

So what they are thinking is as follows:
Number of adults I can see 
Minus that person who comes up for a blessing 
Plus the number of children that have been confirmed, or their parents used to go to a Baptist church so they always used to receive there so I let them here. Even though I haven't actually baptised them. I wonder if they were baptised at their old church? Or before? I'll move on.
Minus roughly half of any visitors, as they may be Catholics or non-recipients or unaware what a Communion service is.
They all know I'm not really good enough to be a priest.
Add 7% for people I can't see because they are behind pillars, staggeringly late, sleeping on their pews or hiding.
Nearly forgot myself. Plus one.
Somebody helpful has just given me a tiny piece of paper on which is written "59". Or is it "65?"  
Minus 20 for the ones they brought up.
Minus for the priest's wafer.
Plus the number to reserve for the forthcoming week.
Plus 5% margin of error. 
Carry the 6...
And the problem, of course, is that most clergy, if they have degrees, have them in arts and humanities. This sum is very hard. So they have to do it three times.

And that's why they stand there so long, quietly, with their eyes glazed, apparently rapt in prayer.
* The little chalice-shaped vessel with a lid, in which wafers are reserved for the sick and/or adoration according to choice.


Want to support this blog?
Want a good laugh? Want to laugh at the church? Want to be secretly suspicious that the author has been sitting in your church committee meetings taking notes? Then Writes of the Church: Gripes and grumbles of people in the pews is probably the book for you.

From Amazon, Sarum Bookshop, The Bible Readers Fellowship and other good Christian bookshops. An excellent book for your churchgoing friends, relatives or vicar. By the creator of the Beaker Folk.

Wednesday, 25 April 2018

Doing Without Galileo

News that Britain is going to build its equivalent of Galileo, the EU SatNav system, has galvanised the Beaker Folk into activity.

See, it's pretty obvious that existing SatNav technology is overdoing it. All that triangulation and geostationary stuff is just typical Gallic over-complexity.

I mean, what is SatNav basically about? People at position A wanting to go to place B.

Under the Brexit SatNav, which we'll be calling BeakerNet, anybody needing assistance on a journey will call a premium rate number and let us know their destination.

Let us suppose you're in Luton and want to go to Northampton. Some would call this only a minor improvement, but come with us on this. You will let our Beaker Homebase know this fact. And in the Beaker Balloon, tethered three miles above Husborne Crawley, Young Keith will find the giant sign saying 'Northampton' and stick it on the underside of the balloon - hopefully the right way round.

You can already see the benefits. There's no annoying SatNav voice. No satellite dead spots. OK, it'll be tricky when you pass Junction 13 and the blimp is directly overhead. But soon it will be in your rear view mirror and you'll be safely on your way. If you've not driven into one of those new warehouses due to a crick in the neck.

And the really great news is, we'll be using giant sign posts in the traditional "fingerpost" style. Which means the BeakerNet gives you the experience of driving in a SteamPunk version of 1920s Sussex. And if that's not what Brexit was all about I don't know what was.

BeakerNet. The Brits-only SatNav. You won. Get over it.

Tuesday, 24 April 2018

A Right Royal Corbyn Silence

The Express reports that Jeremy Corbyn failed to congratulate the Royal Family on the birth of little Throgmorton, or whatever they're going to call him.

Personally I'm shocked. He could at least have mentioned that Harry and Meghan or whoever the parents are, are now up to three children and therefore won't qualify for extra family allowance. Poor souls must be wondering how they'll make ends meet.

Getting in Touch With the Wild Wood

One of the great things about the Beaker Folk is that, although extremely handy for Junction 13 of the M1, we're also in a really nice rural location. Getting out in the wilds really puts us in touch with our primal nature. The mushroomy smell of mushrooms, the tree-y nature of trees - they all remind us of our natural place in the order of things.

So I have to say, today's foraging for wild garlic was great. We found so much on Aspley Heath that the rangers have slapped a court injunction on us.

In other news, does anyone know where the Allen keys for the window locks have gone? I think we're gonna need them.

Monday, 23 April 2018

Obituary: Revd Ali Brightside

Sad news about my old friend, Ali Brightside of the Wilbywell Benefice.

She was always so cheerful. Her motto was that life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, it's about learning to dance in the rain.

She was tragically struck by lightning on Saturday night.

Sunday, 22 April 2018

Shepherd and Sheep

When I was younger - not young, just younger - I was very fond of a range of crockery called "Shepherd and Sheep". I was particularly fond of the "Breakfast Mug". Mostly because it was huge. You could take a swim in that mug, imbibing coffee as you went round in circles until, when you had drunk it all,  you wondered how you would climb out.

OK. It may have grown in my memory. But it was a seriously sized coffee mug. Capable of giving great emotional support. Sadly, unlike Beryl crockery, which is immortal and will alone survive the heat death of the universe, my mug was broken. I miss it.

Beaker Sheep. Or are they goats?

The sheep on the mug weren't your actual Herdwicks, Leicesters and Swaledales however. Though these are all very popular in modern culture, on posters, mugs and Twitter. No, these were yer fluffy, "cloud on four sticks" sheep.

And you know - and I know - that sheep aren't really big fluffy cotton wool balls. Though they're fine things to see, a herd in a nice rolling middle England field. Sheep are real creatures, with an interesting range of diseases, able to get themselves into all kinds of scrapes and yet incapable of getting themselves off their backs if  they topple over. Which is rather a design flaw.

 But maybe we unconsciously make  that same kind of assumption when we think of Jesus  the  Good Shepherd.The stained glass of a caring chap holding the one lost sheep - which is in fact a lamb, for maximum effect.

Now I can't say I've ever lived the life of a shepherd. When I was young my family were friends with a shepherd and his family. And we played on their farm, and fell in the river there. But I never really knew much about what life was like as the shepherd. Maybe because the farm they lived on was haunted by the ghost of a highwaywoman, and when you've got that bit of information you don't pay much attention to the more mundane details.

But I've read Far from the Madding Crowd - which goes back to a time before shepherds started using quad bikes, and even before the modern border collie was developed. So I can tell you what the life of a shepherd was like, a bit. It was pretty brutal. You had to be up all night in the early months of the year, in case a ewe had trouble giving birth. If a ewe did lose her lamb, the shepherd would skin it and wrap the skin round a twin from another ewe, so the bereaved ewe would accept it. You had to deal with dark and danger and loneliness. And your life was utterly caught up in the sheep's. When Gabriel Oak loses his sheep, he's effectively made his life hopeless.
Not to be trusted

And that's where Jesus is the Good Shepherd. Not just wandering by still waters and green pastures - though it's good when we're there. But in amongst valley of the shadow of death - in the dark times. In the dark places. A good shepherd was with the sheep through the cold and fear of a long winter night. The Good Shepherd cares for the sheep so much, that to save the sheep he's prepared to die for them.

And so that's the relationship that Jesus has with us. A guide, a protector, a comfort - and one who is alongside us. In sunny pastures and dark valleys, sunny days and dark nights - till we're called home for the last time, to live in his house, and look upon his face forever.



Want to support this blog?
Want a good laugh? Want to laugh at the church? Want to be secretly suspicious that the author has been sitting in your church committee meetings taking notes? Then Writes of the Church: Gripes and grumbles of people in the pews is probably the book for you.

From Amazon, Sarum Bookshop, The Bible Readers Fellowship and other good Christian bookshops. An excellent book for your churchgoing friends, relatives or vicar. By the creator of the Beaker Folk.

Saturday, 21 April 2018

Go (Kanye) West

A tweet from Kanye West arrives in my Twitter inbox, retweeted by some Twitter acquaintance who thinks it's worth critiquing.

And it is, let's face it.

God-fearing. The idea of fearing God. I mean, why would one fear God?

Let's have a think what God can do.

God can, we are led to believe, bring the entire universe out of nothingness into existence.

God can just decide that it might be fun if the entire universe didn't exist any more. I'm not saying God would - it's not consistent with God's nature. But God could. That's the point.

God can give life - or take it away - according to God's plans. Which, even if they seem nasty in the short term, may well be in accordance with what is good. But God can do these things. It's what God can do. It's what being God is all about.

God can strike people dead just for lying about their property affairs.

God is the Fear of Israel who is beyond our understanding. Who knows every aspect of us. Who throws stars into space, plans supernovae, and calculated the mathematics of the black holes at the centres of galaxies. God thought the idea of an event horizon pretty cool, and came up with the idea of the heat death of the universe long before a human expert in thermodynamics noticed it.

You know what?

Fear God. It's the beginning of wisdom.



Want to support this blog?
Want a good laugh? Want to laugh at the church? Want to be secretly suspicious that the author has been sitting in your church committee meetings taking notes? Then Writes of the Church: Gripes and grumbles of people in the pews is probably the book for you.

From Amazon, Sarum Bookshop, The Bible Readers Fellowship and other good Christian bookshops. An excellent book for your churchgoing friends, relatives or vicar. By the creator of the Beaker Folk.

Friday, 20 April 2018

Service for Arsene Wenger Leaving Arsenal

Moss: Did you see that ludicrous display last night?

Office Postperson: What was Wenger thinking of, resigning so late?

Ash: That's the trouble with Arsenal...

All: They always want to walk it into the net.

Burton Dasset: I'm sorry, what?

Archdruid: It's football talk, Burton. They're bein' weal geezers...

Burton: What like Kwik Fit?

Archdruid: No. Never mind. You'd never pull it off.

Hnaef: No more will a team in England have a name that's just like the manager's.

All: And if they do, it won't be so liable to satisfyingly rude jokes.

Hnaef: 1-0 to the Arsenal....

All: They'll be lucky these days.

Lament

The Professor of Holloway has resigned. How are the mighty fallen!
Tell it not in Walthamstow. Publish it not in Blackhorse Road. Lest the daughters of Tottenham rejoice. Lest the Bishop of Willesden triumph.

Ye heights of Hampstead let there be no dew. Let there be no rain. On the pleasant allotments of Islington let there be no soft fruit to make jam. For Wenger has fallen. With only 3 Premier Leagues and 7 FA Cups, he has failed. Yeah he might win the Europa League and qualify for the UCL next year. But he's clearly failed.

Will Brendan Rodgers do better? Will any other manager bring glory back to the Emirates while they still try to pay for the stadium? Or will the next manager be another schmuck brought in to balance the books while taking the blame for the board's need to keep the money rolling in without spending?

Fallen! Fallen is Arsenal the Great....

Continues till next season

Thursday, 19 April 2018

Liturgy of Removing St Morrissey's Day from the Beaker Common Prayer

Archdruid: He was looking for some eggs and then he found some eggs

All: And heaven knows he's miserable now.

Archdruid: Dearly beloved we are gathered here today to rip St Morrissey's Day from the Beaker Common Prayer. And be it known that, though I would love to amend the version on Lulu, I've lost the password so I can't.

All: Easy done, your pointy-hattedness.

Archdruid: We are now to rip the appropriate pages out of this book, not because he is a vegetarian, but because Morrisey is a right-wing apologist and total wingnut.

Ken Livingstone: You know who else was a vegetarian and a total right-wing wingnut? Hit....

Archdruid: Bag him, Hnaef.

Red Ken is put into the Big Sack to be put outside. 

Archdruid: And so we display the horcruxes of Morrisey. A punctured bicycle. A bunch of glads. A hearing aid. And...

Ken Livingstone: Hitler?

Archdruid: OK Hnaef. Did you forget to tie the bag up?

Red Ken is put into the Big Tote and chucked on the conveniently-just-installed conveyor, o be put away in the Automatic Storage and Retrieval Mechanism in the car park. 

Archdruid: And the last horcrux is... oh, hang on. It's Johnny Marr. That ain't happening. OK. Let's rip the pages out.

The pages are ripped out. 

 Archdruid: OK. Place them in the Pail of De-Morrisseying.

The pages are placed in the Paul of De-Morrisseying. 

All: Are you going to burn them?

Archdruid: Certainly not. I'm going to soak them in milk. That will really annoy him.

Hnaef: Anyone for a barbie?

Archdruid: Meat is murder.

Hnaef: Yeah, but a nice juicy steak, with a bit of mustard, the blackened edges crumbling in heir own...

Archdruid: Oh go on. Just the one. For Morrissey's sake.

All: It won't make him happy.

Archdruid: But then nothing ever does. Let us join in the eternal response. Hang the DJ.

All: Hang the DJ.

Archdruid: Hang the DJ.

All: Hang the DJ.

Archdruid: Hang the DJ.

All: Hang the DJ.

Archdruid: Hang the DJ.



Want to support this blog?
Want a good laugh? Want to laugh at the church? Want to be secretly suspicious that the author has been sitting in your church committee meetings taking notes? Then Writes of the Church: Gripes and grumbles of people in the pews is probably the book for you.

From Amazon, Sarum Bookshop, The Bible Readers Fellowship and other good Christian bookshops. An excellent book for your churchgoing friends, relatives or vicar. By the creator of the Beaker Folk.

In Which The Archdruid Shows Her Soft Side

Was wondering what to do about Lozzinge. She's been really sad since her cat ran away. Which I can understand. That cat was her only real friend. Which I can also understand. But you know, it's sad to see someone so upset.

And after all I'm the Archdruid. It's my job to take pastoral care of people. Even the ones who fill up their Facebook pages with endless pictures of the dearly escaped dumb chum in question. Even if she put the thing in mittens on cold days. Mittens, I ask you. No wonder it couldn't bury its droppings.

So I knew it was incumbent on me. And, let's face it, I've a soft heart somewhere down there.

So I told her to get a grip. That sadness is rebellion against God's goodness. I like to think it helped.

Wednesday, 18 April 2018

Service for the Installation of a New Photocopier

Archdruid: OK lads bring it in.

Barry Chuckle: To me.

Paul Chuckle: To you.

Barry Chuckle: To me.

Archdruid: We thank the God who has delivered unto us this shiny new photocopier. And yet, like unto the Good News which lay hidden for many a generation hid in God's foreknowledge, it is still under wraps. Therefore by the power vested in me I ask the Wrappers and Unwrappers to remove the packaging.

Wrappers and Unwrappers: Behold! For we have with us the sacred Wrapping and Unwrapping Tools, with which shall we reveal the glories of the new photocopier.

Archdruid: Do you bear in your hands scissors and pen-knives?

Wrappers and Unwrappers: Indeedy Doody!

Archdruid: Then take them from hence and deposit them in an dark place. For does it not say on the bubble wrap, "Do not use sharp objects with which to use this bubbly bubble wrap?"

Wrappers and Unwrappers: Then shall we take away these steely devices and return with the plastic shrink-wrap safety cutters.

Hymn: I Want to Be Like Jesus Christ

*** 3 hours later ***

Archdruid: Behold! For the photocopier is revealed in all its glory!

Millennials: That printer hasn't got a USB port!

People Who Remember the War: Where do you put the powder in that washing machine?

Archdruid: People of Husborne Crawley, and you who live in the Great House, this is neither a printer nor is it a washing machine. For it is a photocopier! Behold, will it not both view the image of an sheet of paper, and also print off a very facsimile of that sheet - even unto many?

Millennials: So like a scanner printer, but without a USB port?

Archdruid: Yeah, but it does A3 as well...

People Who Remember the War: Which side is the drier?

Archdruid: OK. Load up the toner, Hnaef, and let's get this baby running!

Hymn: The toner's black, the paper's white (or any other colour you choose) 

*** 3 hours later ***

Archdruid: And now before we make the first copy, the most important ritual of all on a photocopier.

All: Sprinkling with blessed water?

Archdruid: Nah. Exorcism.

Drayton Parslow May Rush In

Drayton: A Photocopier? This is going to need a lot of exorcising. Therefore I cast out the demon that makes the paper get stuck in damp weather, and the one that crunkles the paper up on the drum, and the one that makes the ink smudge, and the one that makes you accidentally photocopy the blank glass because you forgot to put the paper in, and the one that makes you photocopy portrait on landscape, and the one where it breaks ten minutes before an important service when you have not prepared the service sheet in time, and the.....

*** 3 hours later ***

Archdruid: Let us pray. May the copier light ever shine, and the toner always be crisp. The reproduction perfect, and not as dodgy as an analogy with a photocopier on Trinity Sunday which you never think you're going to get away with, do you Hnaef?

Hnaef: I'll delete it immediately.

Charlii: Does it separate separate copies of a document so they're ready to staple?

Young Keith: Oh yeah. This is an installation and collation*.

Archdruid: OK let's get going.  I've a lovely page of the Methodist Hymn Book to put through it, my favourite hymn, "And Can it Be", and.... hang on, what's that in the catch tray?

All: It's.... a photocopy of someone's bottom.

Burton: I'm sorry! I snuck in last night after the Train Spotters' Monthly Real Ale Night, and saw it, and just couldn't....

Archdruid: OK Drayton. You'd better do some more exorcising.  A gallon of mind bleach ain't gonna get that out.

*** 3 hours later ***

Archdruid: Go into the world, to make perfect copies of disciples.

All: And not of Burton's bottom.


* Anglican joke



Want to support this blog?
Want a good laugh? Want to laugh at the church? Want to be secretly suspicious that the author has been sitting in your church committee meetings taking notes? Then Writes of the Church: Gripes and grumbles of people in the pews is probably the book for you.

From Amazon, Sarum Bookshop, The Bible Readers Fellowship and other good Christian bookshops. An excellent book for your churchgoing friends, relatives or vicar. By the creator of the Beaker Folk.

Tuesday, 17 April 2018

Can a Christian Be Friends with Atheists?

Brothers and Sisters, it has been a while since I last wrote to you. The soi-disant "Archdruid" across the Park has cut off my access to the Internet. Albeit I was not totally disappointed. I believe that Marjorie may have been watching Frankie Boyle performances on Netflix again. And she says it always makes her so disappointed in me.

But Eileen is away preparing her exorcism service for the coffee filter machine. And therefore I have been able to access the blogging machine for a short period of time.

And I have found this article in the Christian Today website. Asking the question, "Can a Christian be Friends With Atheists?"  (NB: As Judy points out, the link is down. So use this cache....

I hear what you are already thinking. What a ridiculous question. Irresponsible, some would say.

Clearly the answer is "no". How could one risk even talking to them in a context without strict delimiters between the sacred and profane? Who would take such a risk?

The correct question should surely be: how do we ensure that we are yoked under no circumstances with unbelievers, while simultaneously letting them realise what they are missing in friendship with ourselves and, of course, Christ?  The answer is to be friend-ly, while making it quite clear that only when they are like us will they be allowed to be friend-s.

I normally hand them one of these cards to ensure that would-be-friendly unbelievers know where the boundaries have been drawn. This helps to bring any undesired pleasantries to an end: I hope they go off to reflect on how far they have fallen.



It may be best if I show some examples of dealing with over-friendly atheists and other devilish surrogates through the medium of role-play scenarios. I recommend you try these out in your youth or Bible study groups, or ministerial training college, in case you unexpectedly fall among atheists or, worse, Anglicans.

SCENARIO 1: WALKING THE DOG

Passing Atheist: That's a lovely dog. What's his name?

Godly Christian: Belteshazzar. And what is your dog's name?

Passing Atheist: Stan.

Godly Christian: That is not a Biblical name. Do I presume you are an atheist?

Passing Atheist: Well, I've never really thought of it before. But I suppose I just think that when we die...

Godly Christian: No more! Read this leaflet, "The Cries of the Damned." And when you are ready to repent, come back to see me and then  we can see about taking our dogs for "walkies" together.

SCENARIO 2: The WORK MEETING

Godless Boss: That's me just about done in. Look, you've all worked really hard today. Let's go down the pub and I'll get you all a drink.

Godly Christian: I am afraid that I will not be able to accept your offer, leading as it inevitably will to sin and the gates of Hell.

Godless Boss: OK, you're busy then, Godly?

Godly Christian: Were I a lying heathen such as yourself - no offence - then I would reply in the affirmative. But as I am a Godly Christian and therefore a speaker of truth, I must instead inform you that I have no activities apart from some praying and sitting quietly planned. But I will not be inveigled into this place of alcoholic temptation with you and your spawn of the Dark One, otherwise known as Accounts Payable.

Godless Boss: Maybe another day then?

Godly Christian: There may not be another day. How do you not know this is your last? Flee from your foul bibbing and REPENT!

SCENARIO 3: AT THE SUPERMARKET

Till-Operating Jezebel: That'll be £23.45, please.

Godly Christian: Here you are. Please be aware that, in passing you these coins, I am merely rendering to Asda what belongs to Asda.

Till-Operating Jezebel: Would you like change?

Godly Christian: Know that we will all be changed! At the last trumpet! But unless you change your heart, then the laser in this till will not be the only red light you will be dealing with - for all eternity!

Till-Operating Jezebel: That will be 5p back then.

SCENARIO 4: AT A FOOTBALL MATCH

Godly Football Supporter: You're going to Hell in the Devil's Ambulance!

Manchester United Supporter: Here, are you in the wrong end, mate?

Godly Football Supporter: I hope that is not a reference to the Sin That Dare Not Speak Its Name. Begone, foul minion with your true "Special One" depicted on your club badge.

Manchester United Supporter: OK lads, we've got a right one here.

Godly Football Supporter: Know then that I am happy to suffer blows and be persecuted for righteousness' sake. But please stop throwing pies at me.




Want to support this blog?
Want a good laugh? Want to laugh at the church? Want to be secretly suspicious that the author has been sitting in your church committee meetings taking notes? Then Writes of the Church: Gripes and grumbles of people in the pews is probably the book for you.

From Amazon, Sarum Bookshop, The Bible Readers Fellowship and other good Christian bookshops. An excellent book for your churchgoing friends, relatives or vicar. By the creator of the Beaker Folk.

Liturgy of an Almost Spring Like Day in England

Archdruid: Rejoice! For Spring is springing!

Hnaef: Barbie! Barbie! Barbie!

All: The lambs are skipping! The birds are singing!

Hnaef: Barbie! Barbie! Barbie!

Archdruid: The breeze is light, the fields are green.

Hnaef: Barbie! Barbie! Barbie!

All: The cruël frost's no longer seen.

Hnaef: Barbie! Barbie! Barbie!

Archdruid: The bunnies skip, the robins' eggs hatching.

Hnaef: Barbie! Barbie! Barbie!

All: And in the fields the Beaker Fertility Folk are matching...

Hnaef: Barbie! Barbie! Barbie!

Archdruid: Hnaef, are you trying to suggest we have a Beaker Barbecue tonight?

Hnaef: Well, now you mention it...

Archdruid: We now sing hymn 43...

Hymn 43

All things bright and beautiful
All creatures great and small
All things fat and protein-full
We like to eat them all.

Each chicken in the garden
The little lamb at play
The pigeons in the meadow
They'll never get away.

All things bright and beautiful....

The turkey that makes twizzlers
The cow makes steaks so rare
Don't look out for the piglets
Cos they're no longer there.

All things bright and beautiful...

Archdruid: So light up the fire.

All: And let the meat burn.

Hnaef: Go in meat.

All: We'll get the beer in.

Monday, 16 April 2018

APCM Survival Kit

All round the Church of England, the season for Annual Parochial Church Meetings is upon us. My good friend Revd Nathan has five in five days. And the big question is: how can anyone, cleric or laity, survive?

Obviously it's worse for multi-parish ministers. They, after all, have two, three, fourteen or more. But it can be bad enough if there is just the one or two. And even for the laity it's hard to put up with.

And the nature of the church, the minister and the tradition can have a lot of effect. Some ministers can canter through in ten minutes after the main service. Some ministers build the APCM into the structure of the liturgy, presumably with the choir chanting "Any Other Business" and a solo for the Treasurer's Report.  Some, nuclear winter sets in during the "Thanks for Everyone in the Parish"  part of the vicar's report.

So let's consider some simple survival guides.

  1. Don't volunteer beforehand for anything. If you put your name down on the sideperson's list before the meeting itself, people are gonna think you're the sort of  ambitious go-getter that has always wanted to  stand around on Sunday mornings wondering what your job is. Much better to be pressed into it and smile,  martyr-like,  as you plot whatever world domination  can be achieved from the South Aisle.
  2. If you think it's going to be a long meeting take coffee. If a very long meeting take beer. If there's any kind of building changes proposed take a tent.
  3. On which point. If the vicar insists that the term is "sidesmen" because it's always been that  and it's a non-gendered term, ask him (for it will be "him")  how he managed during  the Little  Ice Age.
  4. Don't let Aggie be Treasurer again. Not after the year of the "Gin Budget".
  5. Announcing the diocese has decided to convert the church building into a Georgian Theme Park is best slipped into "Any Other Business", rather than put on the agenda in advance.
  6. Pet goats do not have voting rights.
  7. Though it's tricky to work out who does. Basically you've got to be on the Electoral Role. And to do that you have to be living in the Parish or worshipping there. And an Anglican. Or another Christian. Though if you're worshipping at the church how come you're not an Anglican? I mean, what are you? A lobster?
  8. The dead rector from the 50s always comes up. Not literally. I mean, he doesn't claw his way out of his grave... Oh, he does in your parish? Well he's still clergy so he can't stand as Churches Together rep. Even if he's got more life in than most of the members.
  9. Even in the unlikely event of a tight election for PCC membership, if you're that desperate you can always stand for Deanery Synod and get on that way. And believe me, when I say desperate...
  10. You've a choice with how to manage reports. Either issue them all beforehand, and ask only for feedback. Or read them out in full and waste an entire afternoon of everyone's  life. Do not do both. Not if you don't want paper airplanes.
  11. Any Other Business should be tabled in advance. And in full. No deviating from the precise words. No sudden bright ideas. Though see above re Edwardian Theme Park.
  12. The Incumbent's report can sound a bit like an acceptance speech at the Oscars. Why not try doing it in the form of interpretive dance?
  13. If there's only two people at the meeting it's no good suggesting Jeb should stand down as Church Warden after his 54th glorious year.
  14. On the other hand if there's over a hundred at the meeting it's best to find out who's in the Clique, who's in the Cabal and who's in the Faction in the advance.
  15. You know in the Psalms when David talks about having to deal with the Lockers? He'd just run the Jerusalem Annual Church Meeting.
  16. You can always get your way at an APCM, though it always takes a year. Just wait for the reading of last year's minutes and say "That's not how I remember it..." Nobody else will be able to remember so they can't argue. For best effect, take out some notes.
  17. The meeting should start with prayers. And end in recrimination.




Want to support this blog?
Want a good laugh? Want to laugh at the church? Want to be secretly suspicious that the author has been sitting in your church committee meetings taking notes? Then Writes of the Church: Gripes and grumbles of people in the pews is probably the book for you.

From Amazon, Sarum Bookshop, The Bible Readers Fellowship and other good Christian bookshops. An excellent book for your churchgoing friends, relatives or vicar. By the creator of the Beaker Folk.

Sunday, 15 April 2018

Not Just a Conjuring Trick

"And as he said this, he showed them his hands and his feet. 
While they were still incredulous for joy and were amazed, he asked them, “Have you anything here to eat?” 
They gave him a piece of baked fish; he took it and ate it in front of them." (Luke 24:40-43)
The arguments always rage over the nature of the Resurrection. It's more than 30 years since David Jenkins said that the Resurrection wasn't just a conjuring trick with old bones. And everybody suspected what he really meant was that it wasn't even a conjuring trick with old bones. And everybody still remembers it. But the trouble is, some people insist on believing that Jesus's body was resurrected. And some - the more spiritual - think it's more spiritual.

But the Gospel writers weren't that spiritual, apparently. Three of the Gospel writers go to a lot of trouble to tell us that Jesus, after the Resurrection, was physically all there. John tells us about Jesus on the beach, cooking a fish barbecue. Matthew has the women that found Jesus outside the empty tomb grabbing onto his feet. And here Luke has him eating fish.

To a good Jew, this is really important. Jesus isn't just a ghost, a spirit, a lovely spiritual extract of Resurrection. He's the same physical Jesus that has walked the roads and hills of Galilee and Judea. Who was physically dead on the cross - dead of shock and blood loss and exhaustion. And here he is raised - with holes in his hands and side - living, and speaking, and eating.

And if it's really important to Matthew and Luke and John, then it's important to us as well. We are not made up of a spiritual and a bodily side, with one just the vehicle for the other. We are whole beings - spirit and body.

The Portugese have a great range of foods, I always think. Being a vegan in Portugal would be no fun. They just seem to eat fish and meat, and eggs. And their egg cookery is great. Their most famous dish was on the Great British Bake Off the other week - Pastéis de Nata, an egg custard tart. They had a lot of yolks to use, you see. The Portuguese are still more religious than the English, but once upon a time they were far more so than now. They had lots of nuns, and therefore they had lots of whimples. And whimples needed lots of starch - which they produced from egg white. With the result that they had lots of yolks left over - because to produce lots of egg white they needed lots of chickens. And so they specialised in cooking with yolks. The Portuguese production of eggs perfectly combined the spiritual with the body - the yolks looked after the body, and the whites looked after the spirit!

The English, of course, don't have great egg-custard tarts. We have the hymn-writing of George Herbert. One of  his more famous hymns has the remarkable line:
Who sweeps a room as for Thy laws,
         Makes that and th' action fine. 
And yes, it does tempt you to make jokes about "sweep the floor for Jesus". Well, it does me, at any rate. But the point Herbert is making is that you can't separate the spiritual and the physical. The beauty and terror of the world in which we live is shot through with the beauty and terror of God. The pains we suffer in our bodies matter to God - because our names are written in the points of nails in God's hands.

Christian religion has never been great when it's raised the spiritual above the physical. If it floats around, regarding God and ignoring the world, then it's not much use to anyone. But when we focus on the crucified, physically alive God - then we can remember our own neighbours, not just to wish them well, but physically to attend to their needs. To open up a church as a night shelter, to gather food for those that need it - these are spiritual acts just as much as physical ones. St James tells us how these things go together:
"What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save them? Suppose a brother or a sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to them, “Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,” but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it? In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead."
The combining of spirit and body builds us up as human beings as a body. So take marriage as a metaphor - in a wedding, two will be united as one. Spiritually they learn to dependent upon and support each other, and physically they are one. Humans aren't divided up - we're whole. This is an image of how we are - as human individuals, and as society. As spirit and body, we're one. As wives and husband, one. As the Church - we're one. When we see suffering across the world and people in need, we know those that suffer are one with us - made of the same flesh, bearing near-identical DNA, loving and caring and fearing and suffering like us.

Jesus, raised from the dead - not just spiritually but physically - is a promise to us all. It tells us our whole selves will be one with God. It tells us that God cares about our physical state as well as our spiritual one. It promises us a greater life in the future than one we can even imagine. The Bible describes a future world as one that is full of life, and sounds, and smell. Where there is a river running through the New Jerusalem. Where the Tree of Life has leaves that are for the healing of the nations. Where there's a feast to eat and wine to drink and we are wholly, thoroughly, fully, forever alive with God.

And it starts with just that one man. Raised to full life. Raised body and spirit. Totally human, and yet totally God. And totally alive forever.



Want to support this blog?
Want a good laugh? Want to laugh at the church? Want to be secretly suspicious that the author has been sitting in your church committee meetings taking notes? Then Writes of the Church: Gripes and grumbles of people in the pews is probably the book for you.

From Amazon, Sarum Bookshop, The Bible Readers Fellowship and other good Christian bookshops. An excellent book for your churchgoing friends, relatives or vicar. By the creator of the Beaker Folk.

Thursday, 12 April 2018

Worship in the Swedish Lutheran Style

I have to say, I quite enjoyed our Swedish Lutheran Worship today.

In keeping with the tradition, only 2% of the Beaker Folk attended.

Which was me.

But I got to charge everybody else for the privilege. No arguments, no stress, no tricky pastoral situations afterwards. Just a nice plain worship environment, me and God. And even God was optional.

I reckon I could learn to live with this.



Want a good laugh? Want to laugh at the church? Want to be secretly suspicious that the author has been sitting in your church committee meetings taking notes? Then Writes of the Church: Gripes and grumbles of people in the pews is probably the book for you.

From Amazon, Sarum Bookshop, The Bible Readers Fellowship and other good Christian bookshops. An excellent book for your churchgoing friends, relatives or vicar. By the creator of the Beaker Folk.

Humanistism

I'm concerned at this post in the Guardian about the lead chaplain - a humanist - at Stoke Mandeville Hospital.

Not at her appointment, or her being in charge. Atheists have spiritual needs as well. And it's very important, when you're struggling with serious illness, to have someone to discuss with you how your life - including this illness - is effectively without lasting purpose but on the bright side, if your illness is terminal, at least you won't exist soon.

No, that's fine. I guess that's how atheists get through life, and good for them.

It was more the definition of "humanist" . The Guardian says humanists "do not believe in an afterlife".

The most famous person to be called a humanist is probably the "Prince of Humanists", Erasmus. Author of many fine books of which I once read one sentence but also, like the man who proposed the Big Bang Theory, a Catholic Priest.

The word humanism was coined by a Lutheran theologian and meant a concept of human progress, and civil responsibility. In that sense I am not a humanist - I believe the world's going to hell in a handcart.  But many liberal and Protestant Christians could be defined thus.

Let's try to  let words mean what they mean. Stoke Mandeville has an atheist chaplin. There's nothing wrong with that. Heaven knows she's  going to be better than at least one of the former helpers  in that hospital. And he called himself a Christian. But at least, if I ever have a serious back condition, I won't be confused into calling the wrong chaplain if I need to know how "In Praise of Folly" ended up.

Personally I reckon the butler did it.



Want a good laugh? Want to laugh at the church? Want to be secretly suspicious that the author has been sitting in your church committee meetings taking notes? Then Writes of the Church: Gripes and grumbles of people in the pews is probably the book for you.

From Amazon, Sarum Bookshop, The Bible Readers Fellowship and other good Christian bookshops. An excellent book for your churchgoing friends, relatives or vicar. By the creator of the Beaker Folk.

Tuesday, 10 April 2018

Liturgy of Liverpool Fans on a Big European Evening

Archdruid: We have had a week to gloat.

All: And gloat we did.

Archdruid: Beat Man City 3-0. Best team in England ever? Don't think so.

All: Not as good as the Gunners' "Invincibles".

Archdruid: Not as successful as Liverpool in the 70s and 80s.

All: Not as effective as Fergie's treble-winning....

Archdruid: SHUT UP!

All: Sorry. But you know....

Archdruid: I'm picking up the cricket bat now.

All: Not even as good as Jose Mourinho's Chelsea.

Archdruid: Ah, Jose. Where are you now? Some 2nd rate club that's not even in the Champion's League any more this season...

All: Seen better days? Living off past glories?

Archdruid: Oh, I don't know. Still a bit of life in me yet.

All: Not you. Mourinho.

Archdruid: OK. Moving on. Let's get to the Prayer of Hope.

All: Oh God, who gave David the victory over Goliath, and the Maccabees victory over the Greeks, who gave the Israelites victory over Egypt even after he'd pumped all that money into his side, give us victory over two legs over the City. Even if that's 4-4 on away goals. And should we lose, don't let it be 5-0. Amen.

Heart Skipped a Beat

The excellent Law and Religion UK blogs on legal implications for the fitting and use respectively of defibrillators.

This was caused by the rather odd tweet from the CofE account about where to look for wifi, post offices and defibrillators. (Please note spelling, CofE Comms).


Now, A Church Near You is a useful website. But not one I'd use if I were in a hurry for treatment for cardiac arrest. I'll be honest, if there was a decent chance of me going into cardiac arrest, I'd be looking at other methods of prolonging life than going to the correctly equipped church.  But like the church it serves, it's quirky, a bit eccentric, and will nearly give you something that is not quite what you were looking for. Unless you're Bono. In which case, no chance.

Like all SocMed it's also only as good as what is put into it. But its usability issues on tablet mean they need to fix a few glitches before you'd work too hard at that.

And of course, you get the usual C of E issue that facilities are rich in towns and scattered in the countryside. So if you're in Central London, there's a church with a defibrillator in Battersea. Not brilliant if you're actually wanting to worship at All Saints Margaret St. But you know, you can get there. But if you're in the wilds of Somerset, there's no defibrillator (or even defibrilator) in sight - you may search in vain in Seavington St Mary. St Michael and all the Angels are all the help you're gonna get at Haselbury Plucknett. And heaven help us all when the Common Market leaves Stanton Drew.

Shouldn't that be "defibrillator"?


Usability and liability issues feature highly in the Law and Religion  piece. I was really worried about the implications of someone using a defibrillator, who doesn't know a cardiac arrest from a heart attack or hay fever. But it turns out that the automatic versions are capable of distinguishing between the right and wrong kinds of heart problems. Which means you won't have the problem of Doris the Warden accidentally making Ernest's condition worse with a hastily-cobbled-together Van der Graaf generator. But does give us the image of the choirboys playing Russian Roulette with it.

Also please note that, if using an automatic defibrillator, you should remove all bodily piercings and underwired bras. The former of which did for poor Ernest. Honestly, his wife told him he should have taken that stud and chain out before going to church. He never smiled again.

But the best of Law and Religion is that it also covers the plannng implications. I look forward to the next snooty missive from a Diocesan Registrar on the subject:

"Although we are all no doubt grateful that Granny Dryden saved the life of Revd Timms, the fitting of the defibrillation device onto the North Wall, underneath the 18th Century "Mellstock Memorial", was carried out without permission. The church is requested to desist from saving any more vicars until a faculty is granted."




Want a good laugh? Want to laugh at the church? Want to be secretly suspicious that the author has been sitting in your church committee meetings taking notes? Then Writes of the Church: Gripes and grumbles of people in the pews is probably the book for you.

From Amazon, Sarum Bookshop, The Bible Readers Fellowship and other good Christian bookshops. An excellent book for your churchgoing friends, relatives or vicar. By the creator of the Beaker Folk.

Monday, 9 April 2018

The Feast of the Annunciation - 2 Weeks Late

Mary: I've got something to tell you.....

Joseph: But this all happened on 25th March! Why have you left it so long to tell me?

Mary: The Pope said I had to wait a fortnight.

Luke: And so celebrating the most important moment in human history - when God became a human being - was delayed because the powers-that-be thought ordinary people couldn't cope with a bit of liturgical confusion.

Gabriel: Here, that's not in the original.

Luke: Never thought the Church would make it this complicated, did I?

Sunday, 8 April 2018

Benefice Profile: Trim Valley

Reverend Nathan has written a Profile for Trim Valley Benefice. He thinks he may be able to "help" when he's gone.

I have my doubts.

Spiritual But Not Religious

And so another of our "Spiritual But Not Religious" weekends has ended with the delegates demanding their money back.

We really thought this was a winner. Everybody's getting into this "Spiritual But not Religious" idea. Even the BBC.  I mean, what an attractive idea. No hierarchy. No rules, Nobody to tell you what God wants from you. In fact, no worries about whether God, gods or even Great Cthulu exist. Just get out, feel good, and sense your own meaning in a time of mindfulness, meditation or a gin and tonic the size of an aquarium.

Least, I suppose the giant G&T counts as being "Spiritual Bit Not Religious". Although, to be fair, if it's a regular one at 5 pm you could argue that's being pretty religious.

Anyway. Back to our weekend course. They're saying it was a shambles. That we hadn't prepared Apparently they expected a "programme" for the weekend. Some kind of "structure". Some "seminars" or "acts of worship".

Instead of which we gave them a bag of pebbles and pointed outside to the glories of nature. Told them to buzz off and be spiritual. We wouldn't want to impose.

You know what, I don't think they'd thought this through. We gave them the chance to be Spiritual. But they wanted to be Religious all along.



Want a good laugh? Want to laugh at the church? Want to be secretly suspicious that the author has been sitting in your church committee meetings taking notes? Then Writes of the Church: Gripes and grumbles of people in the pews is probably the book for you.

From Amazon, Sarum Bookshop, The Bible Readers Fellowship and other good Christian bookshops. An excellent book for your churchgoing friends, relatives or vicar. By the creator of the Beaker Folk.

Saturday, 7 April 2018

Go to Church, Have a Cardiac Arrest

Big news. The prize for Most Surreal Use of Social Media in a Religious Purpose has not gone to Mark Driscoll.

Instead, well done to the C of E media team for this awesome plug.
I mean, what thought process are they considering?  In marketing terms, these are called "missions" - which is quite appropriate I suppose. The "missions" this tweet might cover include:

"Where is a cold building where I can stream Netflix while people fail to chant a psalm in tune or time?"

"I've run out of warfarin. Which building that only opens one hour a week can I go and stand outside, to be on the safe side?"

"I want to buy a stamp, and sing the Te Deum. But I only have the petrol for one journey."

"I really want to go to Cafe church." Oh no. Hang on, that works, doesn't it.

I'm impressed really with the optimism here. There are about 12,000 parishes in the Church of England. And  "hundreds" have one or more of these facilities, apparently. Let's suppose "hundreds" is 500 - which is roughly average for "hundreds". And let's suppose no church has more than one of these facilities. In which case your chance of finding that any given church has the facility you want is roughly 1%. Given the area of England is 50,000 square miles, which is roughly one church every four square miles - on average you will find what you need somewhere in a 20x20 mile box around you*.

Which is a long way to go for a stamp. And if you suddenly need a defibrillator, you're not going to make it. Best to find somewhere to go and pray. I'm sure there are some buildings knocking around for doing that.

* Your mileage may vary if you're Welsh or Scottish. Or Methodist. Or Catholic.




Want a good laugh? Want to laugh at the church? Want to be secretly suspicious that the author has been sitting in your church committee meetings taking notes? Then Writes of the Church: Gripes and grumbles of people in the pews is probably the book for you.

From Amazon, Sarum Bookshop, The Bible Readers Fellowship and other good Christian bookshops. An excellent book for your churchgoing friends, relatives or vicar. By the creator of the Beaker Folk.