Archdruid's Awards

It is my pleasure to announce the following special Archdruid's Awards at this holy time of Twixtmas, as follows:

Kayleigh and Kylie join the First Rank of Bardic Singers of the Hills
Hnaef is awarded the Druidical Order of the Holly and the Ivy (Second Class)
Burton Dasset becomes Grand Master of the Solar-Powered Calculator
Stacey Bushes is appointed to the League of Boudicca
Esau Hamadryad is appointed Chief Singer in the Celtic Tongue.

In unrelated news we have a Special Meeting of the Moot this afternoon. I've been struggling to get the votes for my proposal to move the tea light stand 3 feet to the left. But I feel like I may be lucky this time.

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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.

The World Turns Again

A correspondent sends me this photo of the solstice sun rising this morning over the Frome water-meadows between Dorchester and Stinsford. Or, if you are a true believer in the power of Wessex, between Casterbridge and Mellstock.

Sun rise over the Frome

Still comes up, every day. In a hundred years, it will rise again. And all the noise of the nations today will be just an echo - a raging of the nations. Trump's tantrums will be a nursery rhyme. The Brexit vote will be lumped together into that historical period "when everybody did stupid stuff". And though each individual life is so precious and so short, and each moment so fleeting, the sun will rise once again and the message will be the same - the laws of this universe are obeyed, momentum is conserved, the world is good and the logic that holds it together is reliable.

 One day, in the Great Reckoning, it's said the sun will be as ash and the moon - so bright when it peeps out from the clouds this evening - to blood. But still, today it rose again.

And we wait till that final day, till the One who puts all things in their places throws the mighty from their seats and raises up the lowly. And while we wait we will lift up our heads and see the sun rise and know that the One who put the earth in its place is true and dependable, and will do these things.

So the sun will rise, each day, till the Sun of Righteousness arises with healing in his wings. Then we will drink from the water of the river of life in the City that needs no sun.

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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.

Another Traditional "Fact" Debunked

It's not generally realised that in Dumas's original manuscript the number of musketeers is never given.

Also we don't know their true names - "Porthos and Athos" were assigned by tradition, while Aramis is a brand of aftershave.

The Archdruid's Solstice Sermon

So here we are. The shortest day of the Northern year. On this day in times past the Beaker Folk, sheltered in their coracles from the raging rain, would peer at the howling sky and figure that maybe they'd go Stonehenge next year instead.

The Angles and Danes would take the day off fighting each other, to kick a Saxon's head around in no man's land and sing the peaceful old hymn, "You're going home in a Valkyrie Ambulance".

And today, with the benefit of electric light and central heating, what do we see? An isolated, isolationist America President condemning the Middle East and his own country to chaos - condoning domestic gun ownership and slaughter while pointing the finger at Europe. Nazis harassing British politicians in the street. The British Government making the most ham-fisted imaginable attempt to put a bad decision decision into operation since Captain Smith thought he'd try his hand at iceberg slalom. And Liz Truss their own justice minister assuring the Commons that drones are scared of dogs.

While the seas are full of plastic, the rivers of pesticides, the bees are dying and the climate changes.

The year dies in screaming darkness as the world burns.

Happy Solstice everyone. 

Kirsty MacColl (18 December 2000)

No more to be said here.

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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.

The Church Words You Don't Want to Hear...

Ministers

"I know it's your day off so figured you'd be free if I phoned early enough."

"The Mothers Union are upset."

"Shame you forgot about the wedding. But the verger assured us it's still legal if a blacksmith does it..." 

"And for the ring-bearer.... I've genetically engineered this archaeopteryx."

"I'd like to thank the vicar for her thoughts, insufficient as they are. And in response, I'd just like to offer to you what God is saying."

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Self-Supporting Ministers

"It's the vicar. I know it's your Sunday off and yesterday was "Gin Frenzy at the Hanged Man". But the arthritis has struck. Can you take the 8am?"  

"Given it's you, not the vicar - the choir have had a few ideas."

"While I'm on holiday, can you take the wedding? The bride's 8 months, her family wants revenge and you probably want to install a metal detector in the porch."

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Wardens/Stewards

"The minister's lost her voice so we need a stand-in service leader."

"Drip. Drip. Drip." 

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Congregations

"Then I realised this theme fits neatly into discrete points, each starting with the successive letters of the alphabet."

"I am the god of hell fire. And I bring you fire...." 

"The minister's lost her voice. But the good news is we have an emergency service leader."

All Round to Andrew Milligan's House for Brexmas

I would like to thank the estimable Andrew Brown for the lead that led to this amazing letter from Mr Andrew Milligan of Southampton. In it he suggests that Brussels sprouts be renamed, in the light of Brexit, to "British sprouts". And finishes with the suggestion that "readers ...will join me in taking back control and tucking into a plate of British sprouts on 25 December."

Cut to Mr Milligan's house, 25 December.... 

Round the table are assorted red-faced men, some people who don't understand how trade or logistics operate or what financial services are, and a token Church of England cleric who thinks that, since God loves the poor, it's a great idea to make everybody poorer.

Andrew Milligan: "Please, Token Vicar, would you like to say "grace".

Token Vicar: "We thank you God for the manifold blessings you have proffered us, and particularly for these plates of Brussels Sprouts..."

Andrew Milligan: "Pssst: British Sprouts."

Token Vicar: "...British sprouts with which we celebrate this holy day. And we rejoice that through your mighty Brexit, the mighty shall be cast down. And so shall the lowly. And though your promised land shall flow with neither milk (for the subsidies will wither) nor honey (for we shall repeal the EU regulations against neonicotinoid bee-killing pesticides) we shall nonetheless feast on freedom and sprouts. Amen."

AM: "It's nice that you all came round. Albeit when I invited you to join me, I meant metaphorically."

Boris Johnson: "To be honest though. When you said a plate of British sprouts, I thought that was metaphorical and you just meant a few with the usual Christmas fare, mutatis mutandum etc - you know, onion gravy...."

AM: "Onions originated in Central Asia. We're not withdrawing from one continent just to put ourselves in hock to another."

BJ: "...potatoes"

AM: "I will only buy subsidy-free, tariff-free, WTO potatoes. And since those don't exist..."

BJ: "...turkey...."

AM: "Allow one turkey into my kitchen and before I know it there will be 2 million here. No offence, Boris."

BJ: "Champagne...."

Tim Martin: "You can drink Spitfire Best Bitter and thank Brexit that it's still 50p off on Mondays. Though prices will be rising due to .... erm.... how can I put this?"

BJ: "So just sprouts."

AM: "British sprouts."

Nigel Farage: "And so this is Brexmas."

The ghost of John Lennon: "And what have you done?"

BJ: "Goodness knows. Still not Prime Minister."

NF: "Bit smelly in here?"

AM: Well, I have been eating nothing but British sprouts since June 2016....."

Kate Hoey: Andrew, no offence. But was your letter to the Spectator meant to be a parody of what a Brexiter might say?"

AM: "Good question, Kate. Another plate of sprouts?"

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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 Box of Christmas Characters

We'll change the wording before next year's "Nativity from Scratch" advert goes up.

 "Come dressed as your favourite character from the Nativity", we said.

So a few Maries, couple of Josephs, three angels, some shepherds (one of whom specialised in unicorn herding, but whatever). Disturbingly, a Herod. The Little Drummer Boy, Snow White, "Nemo", David Bowie and Pob.

Next year we'll go from "Come as a real person from the very real story of the Nativity, as mashed together from two gospels but allowing an innkeeper regardless of him not being in the gospel stories as he's definitely in the story. Like the ox and ass but definitely not that Tyranitar that ate the set."

 Not "characters" . Definitely not "characters". And nobody is coming as Boris Johnson. We definitely don't believe in him.

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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.

Political Deadlock

Strange behaviour from the Beaker Political Debate Group. They were meant to be working out a new "3rd Way" on Brexit. But to get their political activism inspired, they've spent the last 3 hours watching subtitled speeches by the first president of the Czech Republic.

They tell me they're just getting themselves in the right frame of mind.

But I reckon they're just Havel gazing.

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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.

Post Modern Nativity

Thanks for the Little Pebbles' "Post-modern Nativity". Lovely.

An unusual and creative affair, to be sure. I especially liked the Angel's message to Mary: "Well he may be the Son of God, but what do I know? You'll have to find your own truth."

And the joy that, after Ian Paul, the baby is laid in a manger in the window in a Pets Are Us Nativity display and not in the obvious stable. There being no room, as Matthew tells us, in the kataluma, or mezzanine floor. Presumably because of the in-store vet and grooming parlour occupying that space. I'm not clear how the donkey would have got up the stairs to be groomed before the invention of the lift, but I presume the beasts of burden of the Ancient Middle East were probably more agile than the British variety, which is more at home on beaches.

The shepherds were woken mightily on that hillside as the angels sang their hymn of praise: "Is God, assuming a sentience pertains to what maybe we should the ground of being - or, one might say, the ground of what we believe, truly to be given glory, or  is that in many senses just a metaphor?"

 Which didn't scan as well as the last verse of "While Shepherds Watched" , I'll be honest. Especially sung to "On Ilkley Moor Bah't 'At".  And  the shepherds' flat caps were disconcerting. As were  the whippets o'er which they watched. But still.  It was lovely.

Then the Three Derridan Philosophers rode into town. When asked why they were on plesiosaurs, they replied that they didn't think they were out of context, before going off to  wonder what was meant by the concept of "kingship". 

And King Herod. Really. Turning up to put a  selfie of himself and  the family to put on Instagram? Before personally arranging the building of a wall round Bethlehem and putting all Galilean children in different stables to their parents? I'm not sure if there was some kind of satirical intent in that part of the  script.

Still, lovely. And I'm looking  forward to the lecture tonight: "Why did Stephen Fry make up all that Stuff about Jesus being like Mithras?"

 Lovely.

A More Christian Bling

Full marks to Young Keith for imagination. I mean, yes. I  had said I was fed up with inflatable Santas, singing ringing trees, illuminated reindeer and other such add-ons to Yule.

I said next year we'll go the full Jül with some serious Germanic influence. But this year could we see something a bit more in the Christian tradition?

And there it was, at the grand unveiling at 7 last night. In all its giant, inflatable, illuminated, festive glory. The massacre of the Waldensians.

Young Keith has put in a big shift overnight. We should have Santa enthroned on the Moot House roof by tea time. I never want to hear the kids scream like that again.

Soon and Very Soon

Jesus said to his disciples: ‘There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars, and on the earth distress among nations confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves. People will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken. Then they will see “the Son of Man coming in a cloud” with power and great glory.
Now when these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.’’ (Luke 21.25-36)

Enjoyed the comments of Henning Wehn on, I think, the Now Show last week. He was talking about Brexit and remarked that, at the distance of 500 years into the future, the convulsions of the British people and politicians over Brexit would appear as just a blip in history.

And he has a point. Go back 500 years ago. 1518. Somewhat oddly, the year 1518 started in France on 4 April, and lasted until 23 April in what we would call 1519. In July, the "Dancing Plague" broke out in Strasbourg, and 400 people died after dancing for days. The English King, Henry VIII, was a devout Catholic monarch who would, three years later, write the "Defence of the Seven Sacraments" - the work that would lead the Pope to give him the title "Defender of the Faith". They didn't know what was coming!

The way we govern the country, the political map of Europe, the position of the Church - all have changed since 1518. We have drugs that Henry VIII would have thought were witchcraft. The gout he suffered from we could probably control with drugs and diet. Though we could maybe do less about his personality. But human nature doesn't seem to have changed. We still fear change, fear death and are less nice about each other than we should be.

Jesus told the disciples that all these signs would happen, and yet not when the end comes. That generation passed away - and they had seen wars, they had seen distressed, they'd seen the powers of heaven shaken - but they never saw the end. And in the 2,000 years since, we've seen the fall and rise of Empires that people thought would never end - churches and nations and powers rise and fall. The war to end all wars - and all the wars that came after that one.

And still we wait. In a world where we need to reduce our CO2 output to prevent terrible climate change, and yet the politicians, businesses and people don't have the will or the cohesion to do anything meaningful - we wait. As the United Kingdom wonders what its relationship with Europe will be in 4 months - we wait. As so many nations fall into populism, racism and mutual suspicion - we wait. These won't be the \End Times - unless this time they are - but Jesus breaks into this world, in love and unasked-for care, in cries for justice and concern for the poor. In treating each individual we meet as if they were Jesus himself.

So we can wait for the King to come in glory - but also remember that we meet him, in our fellowships, in every corner of our towns, in every part of the world. The King will come one day, and put all things right. And every day is the day when we can greet him, and put small things right.

Lift up your heads. Your redemption is drawing near.

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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.