Friday, 31 May 2019

Chem Tales

All a bit bizarre down the corridor with Ghiswold.

He's read too many things online about the dangers of science. He'd be a terrifying anti-vaxxer if, so far, God hadn't blessed him with children. He's been telling us that all things non-organic are toxic, and he's been eradicating all chemicals from his life. Chemicals, it turns out, are the worse. Worse than inorganic farming. Worse than putting dead viruses into yourself to stop yourself being killed by their live relations.

So he demanded we removed all the chemicals from his room. And, what with him paying in good, non-chemical, electronic currency, what could we do? The customer - I mean soul reviver - is always right. So I sent Charlii to sort his room out. But you know how literal she is.

Anyway. Ghiswold walked into his room today, fell straight through the floor. He didn't realise that wood is made of chemicals. To be exact, cellulose. But Charlii knows it is.  Ghiswold demanded we re-instate the floor. Demanded someone other than Charlii dealt with the request.

He went back into the room 2 hours later, had to rush out gasping. Hadn't realised that O2, N2 and CO2 are  chemicals. Or, as we also call them, "air". Young Keith had only done what he asked, and sucked as much air out as he could manage with a Henry Hoover. Just as well he'd not done it too well, and the window seal ain't as great as it might be. Otherwise Ghiswold might have boiled off into the vacuum of the "Arbor Low Room". Try explaining that to the judge.

He said he needed a drink. We explained that drinks are made up of chemicals. He said he didn't care, he'd had a shock.

An organic drink.

So let's talk about water, or H2O as it's otherwise known. It has no carbon atoms.  So while it's very important in chemistry and biochemistry, and in many ways the very underpinning of life - it's not in the very strictest sense of the word "organic".

But ethyl alcohol, CH3CH2OH. Now that's organic.

So, anyway. Stacey Bushes gave him a drink. An organic drink. A large organic drink.

Ghoswold's currently running round the Orchard, screaming there's a goblin sent by Big Pharma behind every tree.

It's been a bit of a day.


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Monday, 27 May 2019

The Incense Bubble Explodes

In theory, on a Late May Bank Holiday, it was a great idea. Fun, yet religious. Suitable for all ages, but a bit juvenile at base,

We've used the idea of bubbles as symbols of prayers before. And some liked it. And some said it was drivelling childishness and why couldn't we use incense like a grown-up church.

And it was Young Keith's idea to combine the two. By connecting a bubble-blower to an incense burner, we had an incense blower. And the use of warmer air meant the bubbles went for miles, dropping the scents of Zion over this Central Bedfordshire Eden. It was brilliant. The happy looks of the children, the hint of frankincense on the breeze - genius.

But it had a side-effect we weren't expecting. After we'd run the device for an hour, we heard rumours that there were sheep singing metrical psalms in a field off Horsepool Lane. And it turned out an entire flock had gone Anglo-Catholic. You've no idea what a shock it is, to see sheep pulling the bits of whispy wool off the barbed wire and trying to turn it into lace. I mean, we're a traditional lace-making area. But the hooves are such a drawback.

Meanwhile down the Ridgmont Road some cows had a particularly strong batch of bubbles burst in the spinney next to their field. A few converted immediately to Opus Dei, and most of the rest to the Oxford Moovement. But the ones who really got a powerful dose decided to stand as MEPs for the Brexit Party.  Talk about scenes. Apparently they've heard that we import two-thirds of the cheese we eat, and it's a disgrace.

And then we ran out of frankincense, so Keith stuck some joss sticks in instead. Now there's an outbreak of Hare Krishna in Aspley Guise and now we've got the council round trying to work out if we constitute a public menace. I mean, we usually do. But this is a new one on us.

So next time we use bubbles in worship, we're going back to washing up liquid and those little blowers you hold in your hand. But we're not giving up on Keith's machine. We've discovered with a bit of plumbing you can get it to drift the smell of new-baked bread and coffee over the Community. Sales in Brasserie Beaker are up 40%.



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Sunday, 26 May 2019

Get those Children out of the Muddy, Muddy

Sympathy for the people who built a replica Noah's Ark attraction, which was hit by a rainstorm. The insurers refused to pay out for the damage.

I expect they said it was an act of God.

(h/t to Law and Religion)

The Man by the Pool

After this there was a festival of the Jews, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. Now in Jerusalem by the Sheep Gate there is a pool, called in Hebrew Beth-zatha, which has five porticoes. In these lay many invalids—blind, lame, and paralysed. One man was there who had been ill for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had been there a long time, he said to him, ‘Do you want to be made well?’ The sick man answered him, ‘Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up; and while I am making my way, someone else steps down ahead of me.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Stand up, take your mat and walk.’ At once the man was made well, and he took up his mat and began to walk.
Now that day was a sabbath. (John 5:1-9 New Revised Standard Version, Anglicised (NRSVA))
Lots of fascinating stuff in this passage, especially if you're a Bible geek. There is for instance the way that until the 19th Century the only reference to this pool was in this passage of John. So some claimed this had never happened, and that the passage was written by someone who didn't know the geography of Jerusalem. Except then a bunch of archaeologists only went and dug it up.

Or the fascinating way Verse 4 is missing in modern translations, but it's there in the King James. This tells us that "an angel went down at a certain season into the pool, and troubled the water: whosoever then first after the troubling of the water stepped in was made whole of whatsoever disease he had." Which isn't in the early manuscripts of John's Gospel. Presumably because John just assumed everybody knew how the pool was meant to work, but as the Gospel spread and time went on somebody realised they needed an explanation. Or maybe it's because that swimming pool was actually sacred to the Roman god of healing, Asclepius, and somebody decided that the story needed a bit of sanitising and put a Jewish angel in the picture. We don't know.

But we do know that healing pools are known the world over. We have plenty in England. Some said the waters of Bath would make you well. Bertie Wooster's uncles used to go off to Harrogate to take the waters whenever they'd drunk so much their livers were packing up. Walsingham has its well, which may or may not be the one that pilgrims drank from 1000 years ago, but is certainly going to have its sources in the same aquifer. And Wellingborough had the Red Well, which was the place that Charles I and Henrietta Maria went to drink the iron-rich waters when they were having trouble conceiving. They conceived nine kids after that, but Charles ended up having had his head cut off. The name "Red Well" is now given to the Wetherspoons in Wellingborough. Where much the same kind of thing can happen if you're not careful.

But I digress. The bloke's lying there and he's hoping to be healed. And every day it's the same. He's not. 38 years of "not". And Jesus says to him - do you want to be healed?

And did you notice - the bloke doesn't answer. Instead he tells Jesus the story. Every time the water's moved, everybody else jumps in and I can't so I'm last and I never get healed.

But does he want to be healed? We don't know. I mean, yes he's there every day. But then what else is he going to do? In a society where being able bodied is really the only way to make a living for the vast number of people, he hasn't really got anywhere else to go. Maybe his friends come out and lift him up on his mat and stick him somewhere busy to beg. Or maybe - because we don't know - maybe given this is the place to hang out if you've a disability - maybe the great and the good wander into this place and chuck a few coins around when they're in town.

Maybe his story has made him into a local character - the man who spent 38 years at the healing well and never got better. Maybe that's worth a denarius or two. Maybe he trots out the same story to everyone who speaks to him, thinking they'll give him something.  so maybe he doesn't really want to be healed. Maybe he's been disabled so long, he has settled into his niche of being the bloke lying by the pool, watching everybody else splashing about and occasionally being healed. And he's just always there. Faithfully waiting. Never getting any better.

Maybe he does want to healed, and he's telling Jesus his story because he doesn't want Jesus to think he's just idle and not trying hard enough.

Or he's gone into a state of depression. I once had four weeks of being unable to get around without crutches, lying on the couch day after day watching Jeremy Kyle. And I tell you what, just four weeks nearly broke my spirit. I can't imagine 38 years of it. Maybe he's been consumed by his circumstances and he can't imagine being healed any more.

Maybe he's like friends of mine who've been prayed for healing so many times they don't want anyone else forcibly praying for them. It's not necessarily that they wouldn't like to be mobile, or healed from a long-term illness. But they've accepted that this is how it is. Maybe it's like the thing Beethoven is said to have said: "I shall hear in heaven". But I'll tell you one thing. Never just try and heal people yourself whether they want it or not. You aren't Jesus. But you may well be very annoying.

But it doesn't matter whether he wants to be healed or not, apparently. Jesus has decided that a healing will happen and it's going to be him. "Stand up, take up your mat, and walk."

And he stands up, takes up his mat, and walks. He responds in faith. He could have just laid there. But God's love triggers his response.

Now this isn't the end for this guy. This is just the beginning. We know that later on Jesus tells him "stop sinning, or something worse may happen to you". Which in itself fascinating - Jesus heals him, knowing he is a sinner. Gives the man grace before he has repented: he only told Jesus what a bad life he was having, not that he needed forgiveness as well as healing. Maybe his heart had grown bitter. It might,  lying there all that time.  But God's grace is there before the man is even ready to accept it.

So Jesus takes a man who hasn't even asked for healing, and gives it to him. Takes a man who had been utterly dependent on others and stands him on his feet. Takes a man who has been passively dependent on others and reminds him that he is - that he's always been - responsible for whether he sins or not.

And the man wanders out of our story. God has come unasked. God has made him well. He has seen the glory and love of God. Not in some mighty explosions or flight of angels. But in a tiny, quiet miracle.

In times of our lives when we feel helpless, unable to do things for ourselves - God will come to us, if we let him. Like this man we can trot out our story of where we are, our  complaints and our weakness - we call it "prayer". And God can touch our lives, give us new meaning, new direction.

Now our final blessing comes from these words of Jesus, told to us by John.

Go, and stop sinning.

Or something worse may happen to you.


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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.

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Saturday, 25 May 2019

If the Conservative Party Leadership Candidates Belonged to your Church

Don't you find it disturbing when the papers or the BBC have those pictures of the candidates for the Tory leadership race and you assume another bunch have been put in the dock for the Hatton Garden case?

(Taken from iNews)

They say the Conservative Party is a broad church. And more so these days, as the party's members apparently think nothing of voting for other parties. But if the Conservative Party leadership candidates were people associated with your local church - which stereotypes would they be?

Matt Hancock

The "young" curate who gets put in charge of all children's activities, even though he's in his 40s. Wants to be the vicar one day. But nobody can quite see it.

Jeremy Hunt

Trained as the Church first aider, but had to be re-assigned after treating a broken arm with homeopathy. Opposed the introduction of a Parish Nurse on the grounds that illness was God's way of telling old people to leave a legacy. Has now joined the Diocesan Synod, but caused upset by comparing the bishop to Torquemada.

Boris Johnson

The cycling vicar who's always preaching muscular Christianity. Then gets a charge under the Clergy Discipline Measure after his secret mistress finds out he's been two-timing her.

Esther McVey

Runs the Foodbank. Has claimed that it's such a massive success, we need to ensure there are more poor people.

Rory Stewart

Harassed Director of Music. Sometimes gets mistakenly sent off to Sunday School.

Sir Graham Brady

In the great "pews versus chairs" debate, proposed pews on wheels so they and chairs could be used on alternative weeks. Loyal to the vicar unless any decisions have to be made.

Michael Gove

Creeps up to you when you're having a quiet pray and says, "I've been watching you. And I don't think God would approve." Sponsored the King James Bibles that are currently mouldering in the vestry cupboard. Has his name in every one.

Sajid Javid

Lay Preacher whose Dad used to drive the local bus. As he mentions in every sermon.

Andrea Leadsom

Mothers' Union member who's never understood why people who aren't mothers are allowed to join.

Penny Mordaunt

A firm believer in the New Testament Church. Advocates withdrawing from the diocese in protest at the Parish Share. Hasn't realised that the Share is less than the cost of the vicar.

Priti Patel

"Churches Together" rep who got the sack after organising an ecumenical service with the Methodists without telling the vicar.

Dominic Raab

Scout leader involved in that incident at camp where the Mountain Rescue had to be called out. In Lincolnshire.

Liz Truss

Sunday school teacher whose theology is repeatedly torn apart by the smarter eight-year-olds.


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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.

21st Century Man

Just listened to the Electric Light Orchestra's album, "Time", for the first time since, frankly, it was released. Sadly I will always think of "Time" as the album that proved "Discovery" wasn't an aberration, but rather a logical step on the way down from the perfection of "A New World Record" to - let's just say it - "Xanadu".

"Time" is a Sci-Fi concept album. Due to circumstances I don't really understand, a bloke has been fast-forwarded in time from 1981 to 2095. Various vaguely-described adventures, and a fair amount of temporal whinging later, he fails to get back (I think) for other, equally poorly-described, reasons, and decides to hold on tight to his dreams.

We're about a third of the way to 2095 now. So how's Jeff Lynn's prophecy going?

Well, we still don't have a Satellite 2. We don't suffer from the risks of a meteor storm when we go for a walk. And we're still technically incapable of leaving our lives behind in a plastic bag.

But the sex robots are already just about available. (Don't worry - safe link to the BBC).

If you want to predict the future of technology, ask what lonely men will want next.

Friday, 24 May 2019

Theresa May

In case you've spent the last 12 hours in a capsule below the North Atlantic, you'll be aware that Theresa May has resigned as Prime Minister.

I probably ought to reflect upon her commitment to public service, her dedication to the role and her deep and abiding love of the country.

But I won't. She ignored the 48% of the voters three years ago who voted "Remain", in her attempt to persuade herself she was doing the mythical Will of the People. A spirit more elusive than the Will of the Wisp, as Boris Johnson and Nigel Farage have twisted that Will to more and more self-destructive extremes. Like two dribbling schoolboys competing to give themselves the worst Chinese burns. Those who think Brexit is maybe a bit of a bad idea may as well not have been inhabitants of this country.

She made no attempt to work with most other parties, even when her own stupid actions in calling an election came home to roost. Although she chose to team up with the most inflexible head-bangers in the history of history - the only party that campaigned for "Leave" in the Remain-supporting province of Northern Ireland. She appointed - in Boris Johnson - the most ineffective and actually utterly dangerous man as Foreign Secretary she could have done.

When her deal - which may be the best anybody could have got - got rejected, she could have tried something different. But she adopted Graham Brady's stupid "other arrangements" amendment - even though it could never have achieved anything - and then kept bringing the stupid thing back - to Brussels then to Westminster - while nothing changed. She constantly complained about other people's inflexibility while changing nothing herself.

When her authority was ebbing away, she appealed to the people over the heads of the party whose loyalty she needed. And yet she only appealed to the rump of the 52% - those keepers of the sacred Will of the People. The rest of us could, frankly, get stuffed.

And when Amber Rudd carried the can for the Windrush scandal, let's not forget, it was the result of the hostile environment which guess who had introduced. Yep. The same former Home Secretary who decided that what the Will of the People was actually demanding was that the people of Britain should no longer be able to travel freely in Europe. Although she sold it as stopping all those nasty foreigners coming over here, obviously.

So she leaves a country that is poorer than it should have been. More divided than it should be. Facing over a cliff edge to which she has led us. Where the Union that forms a part of her own party's name has been imperilled by her own actions. And her beloved Tory Party will now spent a couple of months of utter self-indulgence, as the cliff edge gets closer, as its members try to decide who has the most virile young blood with which it can rejuvenate itself. That the chosen one is likely to be Boris Johnson tells you all you need to know about them.

Now, I've been a floating voter all my life. I've voted for the Labour party when I thought it was the better choice, and the Tory party when I thought Labour was getting too control-freaky and business should be left to crack on and make money. We're left in the position where business has been battered by the party that is supposed to enable it to thrive. In the simplest way of putting it, they are no longer a conservative party. They are the party of destroyers and simpletons. Just to see Graham Brady at work is to see the proof that inability is no obstacle to anybody given enough entitlement and self-confidence.They are wrecking our country's relationships with its nearest and best friends. And with it destroying the chances of an international UK. We know what Boris Johnson thinks about business, and it's roughly his view on a lot of things in life.

And if Theresa May reflects at all on the last three years, I hope she will realise that the reason she failed was because where a politician needs compromise, vision, an ability to take people along with her and yet also to be in touch with the real world - she fell short in all of them. And in a world where you can only achieve achievable things, she tried to deliver a unicorn that was also a Ford Fiesta. A unicorn that was really a donkey sprayed white by Boris Johnson, and a clocked Ford Fiesta she bought from Nigel Farage because he told her it had one careful owner.

And the worst of it is, I suspect she was the best candidate for Prime Minister that the Tory party had, or probably still has. I pray that Theresa May has a restful retirement. But I pray we will somehow avoid or at least mitigate some of the damage she has done.  And though I might vote Labour again one day where St Jeremy has retired full time to his allotment, I will never, ever forgive the Conservative Party. It deserves oblivion. Let something better rise in its place. And I don't mean the Brexit party.



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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.

Sunday, 19 May 2019

No Sex, no Drugs, no King of Rock n Roll

I'd like to pass on Zybil's apologies for what turned out to be a fairly poor attempt at a meditation session, 1988-style, earlier.

I mean, it's been an overcast day and it's just plain gray and wet now. So it was right we tried to lighten the state. And we wanted to get people into a better mood. Everyone was as limp as the weather.

But the aim was, through the repetition of a phrase, to loosen oneself from one's earthly cares and enter into the rhythm of the universe. And I'll be honest, if you're going to do that, the one phrase that probably isn't going to work is "Hot Dog, jumping frog, Albuquerque".

Apart from Hnaef, that is. I wandered past five minutes ago and he appears to have reached the spiritually enlightened phase that is known in this particular method as "Senior Sprout".

Monday, 13 May 2019

The Rainbow Sandwich

Cherry picking in the extreme (maybe even cherry tomato-picking) from the "Christian Institute" as they comment on Marks & Spencer's inclusive sandwich, the Lettuce, Guacamole, Bacon and Tomato. There's a lovely picture of it here at the Independent.

The Institute tells us that "critics, including some LGBT supporters" say the sandwich has missed the mark.

Now there may be some valid, reasoned criticism. Including from LGBT supporters. The Independent link above actually tries. But the complaints actually cited are from Piers Morgan, who normally prefers gammon with a chip, and "one Twitter user".

Just the one, apparently. Out of Twitter's millions. The Daily Mail* further tells us that the sandwich has been criticised by Piers Morgan on Twitter. Which suggests that the Christian Institute's Venn Diagram of people who complain about the sandwich - "Piers Morgan" and " one Twitter user" is actually even less complicated (and less numerous) than the Christian Institute would lead you to believe.

I guess what I ask myself is this. If you're making an inclusive sandwich, do you think one containing guacamole is going to make much traction outside the M25?

And if you're really being really inclusive, would you put bacon in it?

* The link's here but you probably don't want to use it.


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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.

Saturday, 11 May 2019

The Hot Not so Fuzzies

Hot on the heels of the news that children were left distraught after a horror film was played instead of "Detective Pikachu".

I have to apologise that people attending today's advertised service, "A Festival of Tea Lights, Warm Fuzzies and Nice Thoughts", were accidentally subjected to the  BCP Commination Service, followed by a member of the Dutch Quivering Brethren screaming at them in Frisian for 40 minutes that they were all going to Hell.

Truly there was a great wailing and gnashing of teeth. And a certain amount of changing of trousers.

Wednesday, 8 May 2019

Theresa May's Grasp on Football

Others have no doubt said this more eloquently than I will, but I don't care.

There's a few problems with her analogy.

Liverpool's goals were scored by a Belgian and a Netherlander. The rock at the middle of the defence is another man from the Netherlands. Energy, commitment and leadership came from two Englishmen.

This pan-European mixture gives space and inspiration- and the opportunity to succeed - to two brilliant young British full backs.

The team is managed by a German who loves the English way of playing football.

And after 90 minutes of blood, sweat, skill and gut-wrenching excitement what is the prize?

We're still in Europe. Which is appropriate. Because you could say this is the model of what Europe is all about. Combining the talents of many nations so, together, we're all stronger. And we excel on the international stage.

So yes, please Mrs May. Be inspired by Liverpool.

Sunday, 5 May 2019

Sydney Carter Free Zone

In the light of this evening's "Pointless Celebrities", in which the "Crappy Folk Song Masquerading as a Hymn Which is Actually a Syncretic Abomination" (aka Lord of the Dance) was mentioned, a reminder.

The Beaker Folk of Husborne Crawley has been a Sydney Carter Free Zone since 2011.  Anyone even humming "When I needed a neighbour" is still subject to a consignment to the Doily Mines of a time of at least, but not limited to, forever.

It's got so, when couples come requesting a handfasting ceremony (available to people of all sexual orientation and nuns) or thanksgiving for a child / pet / new set of Tefal, I always hold it in the Orchard, conveniently situated for those water cannons I bought from Sadiq Khan. There's nothing like a high-pressure hosing down to bring them back, spluttering, to agree to something else less troubling and more theologically orthodox, such as "If I were a Butterfly".

There is, I have to say, one MP3 of "Lord of the Dance" on the Beaker central server. In the event of a serious outbreak of public disturbance or other catastrophe caused by nuclear war, meteor strike or Brexit, we will put it on full volume on the full Radio Beaker network. At least it will take our minds off our other woes.



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, 3 May 2019

Pushing on to a Clearer Future

So it's fair to say that I'm disappointed by the response to our Week of May Festivities, "7 Days of Tea Lights and Pebbles". Three days in, and so far only one person has attended. Despite me being clear that I've always been clear that, if you're going to worship around Maytime, you need to do it in a Beaker way. That's always been clear.

Meanwhile Drayton Parslow has held a rival event at his Funambulist Baptist chapel - "A Thousand People for Joyless Godliness". Three days in, and so far only one person has attended.

Across the meadow, the Fertility Beaker Folk have been holding their "Get Down and Dirty for the Earth" festival. Three days they've been at it - I use this expression guardedly - and I can still hear "Big Yellow Taxi" belting across the meads. Meanwhile old Revd Chaine-Lynke's "Liberal Theology Revival" has been a surprising success in the Reading Room. 25 people every day, all arguing over "The Myth of God Incarnate". I don't know why they're arguing. It's been clear for 40 years that it's drivel. That is surely clear.

Anyhow, I met Drayton Parslow while walking "Bone-crusher", the Community Hound. And, after I'd retrieved Drayton's leg from Boney's jaws, we had a chat about our respective festivals.

And we've come to the conclusion that what the total unpopularity of our tea lights, pebbles and fundie misery has made clear, is that we must push on with tea lights, pebbles and fundie misery.

So we've extended the festivals for another week. Eventually if we keep on doing them, everyone is sure to come round to it. On that much, I've always been clear.




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.