An Unsubtle Metaphor for Brexit

Bad news about the Brexit celebrations, I'm afraid.

As planned, the Brexiters gathered to fire their nine-gun salute to the UK's new-found weakness independence.

However they chose to to show their solidarity by standing in a circle and...

Well, let's put it this way. Can the Prayer Team please gather immediately in the Orchard? We've got some serious praying to do.

I knew it was a bad idea to let Mark Francois and David Davis rehearse them.

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Want to support this blog? Want a good laugh? (or to shudder at death at any rate? Then here's two ways you can keep the Archdruid in doilies...
If you want someone to share the terrors of death while making you laugh, we have "A Hint of Death in the Morning Air" - 97 poems to make you wonder, laugh or shake your head sadly. At only £1 on Kindle. Or if you want to know what the people in the pews really think, and you prefer your words printed on paper, why not try "Writes of the Church"?  The letters to the Church magazine the vicar really didn't need.

Beaker Prayer for Brexit

Oh eternal logic of the universe,
as we do something that defies logic
and skip off these white cliffs believing,
for no good reason,
that this thin air is actually sunlit uplands in disguise-
when we hit the ground let it be a softish bit of ground
and let us be kind to the people
that were sold on this idea
by the people that have made money out of it.
Because, let's face it
they're gonna suffer at least as much as the rest of us.

Amen.

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Want to support this blog? Want a good laugh? (or to shudder at death at any rate? Then here's two ways you can keep the Archdruid in doilies...
If you want someone to share the terrors of death while making you laugh, we have "A Hint of Death in the Morning Air" - 97 poems to make you wonder, laugh or shake your head sadly. At only £1 on Kindle. Or if you want to know what the people in the pews really think, and you prefer your words printed on paper, why not try "Writes of the Church"?  The letters to the Church magazine the vicar really didn't need.

Just a Minute of Remembrance: RIP Nicholas Parsons

Introit: The Minute Waltz

Archdruid: And so as all the memories of our childhoods fade away, welcome to Just a Minute of Remembrance. In which our talented and exciting contestants will remember Nicholas Parsons without deviation, hesitation or repetition. And first with the eulogy we have Kenneth Williams.

Kenneth Williams: Of course the great thing about dear Nicholas Par-sons was that through hosting Just a Minute he was able to provide such a salubrious platform for myself. I could soar to the heights of eloquence, and then I would go home and plunge to the depths of depression that I had made such a prime fool of myself on national radio.

BUZZ

Archdruid: Paul Merton has challenged.

Paul Merton: Deviation. This is meant to be about Nicholas and all Kenneth is talking about is himself.

Archdruid: Paul, you have 50 seconds on Nicholas Parsons.

Paul Merton: Sadly, this would be a tactless day to enjoy a double-entendre such as you have just committed. Nicholas Parsons was to me a lovely, friendly, encouraging, lovely...

BUZZ

Sheila Hancock: Repetition of lovely?

Paul Merton: But he was lovely.

Archdruid: Sheila, you have 45 seconds.

Sheila: Oh, what's the subject again? I wasn't listening.

BUZZ

Derek Nimmo: Hesitation.

Sheila: Oh Derek you meanie.

Archdruid: Derek, you have 40 seconds on Nicholas Parsons.

Derek Nimmo: I remember during the filming of some television comedy in which I was playing a clergyman. "The Biblical Concept of Marriage" or some such far-fetched title, I seem to recall. And Nicholas had the role of the Scottish Presbyterian minister in the manse next door. Always seemed somewhat improbably to me, as the comedy was set in Purley, as all such....

BUZZ

Linda Smith: Repetition of comedy.

Kenneth Williams: Seems unlikely. I've barely spoken.

The congregation laughs, uncertain as to whether this was funny or merely a window into a particularly sad part of Williams's soul.

Archdruid: Linda, you have 30 seconds.

Linda Smith: I remember when I was a child and Nicholas would appear on Sale of the Century on Saturday evenings. "And now, from Norwich - the Quiz of the Week", it would be announced. And there would be Nicholas, refereeing a quiz in which a soldering iron manufacturer from Chelmsford would be competing with a tea towel sales representative from Luton as to who could win a toast rack and accompanying ironing board. And despite the banality of the format and prizes, Nicholas would still seem...

BUZZ

Kenneth Williams: Repetition of "Nicholas".

Archdruid: She's allowed to repeat Nicholas. He's the subject.

Kenneth Williams: Oh yes. Apologies. I though I was.

Archdruid: Linda, you have 20 seconds.

Linda Smith: And often the sol.... aaagh....

BUZZ

Peter Jones: Hesitation?

Archdruid: You have 15 seconds, Peter.

Peter Jones: Of course, I was lucky enough to work with Nicholas for many years. A great entertainer, loved my millions. And of course so was Nicholas.

BUZZ

Gyles Brandreth: Repetition of "of course"

Archdruid: Well done, Gyles. You get the last word...

Gyles Brandreth: As I did when I reclaimed the world title from Nicholas for "Longest after-dinner speech". And have I told you how both our - ahem - devices failed...

BUZZ

Victoria Wood: Repetition of that story.

WHISTLE

Archdruid: So St Peter has blown the whistle, and it turns out that we've all won. And yet, isn't it true to say, we've also all lost so much? I'd like to thank God for Nicholas Parsons making me laugh so many times. And yes, Kenny. You were lovely too.

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Want to support this blog? Want a good laugh? (or to shudder at death at any rate? Then here's two ways you can keep the Archdruid in doilies...
If you want someone to share the terrors of death while making you laugh, we have "A Hint of Death in the Morning Air" - 97 poems to make you wonder, laugh or shake your head sadly. At only £1 on Kindle. Or if you want to know what the people in the pews really think, and you prefer your words printed on paper, why not try "Writes of the Church"?  The letters to the Church magazine the vicar really didn't need.

Drawing a Discreet Veil

We've had words with Mangelino.

I mean, there's the bright side. He's upbeat, he's optimistic. His attitude to life is best summed up in the motto he repeats all the time - "dance like nobody's watching".

Well, enough's enough. We've told him he either draws the curtains in future or we're throwing him out the Community.

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Want to support this blog? Want a good laugh? (or to shudder at death at any rate? Then here's two ways you can keep the Archdruid in doilies...
If you want someone to share the terrors of death while making you laugh, we have "A Hint of Death in the Morning Air" - 97 poems to make you wonder, laugh or shake your head sadly. At only £1 on Kindle. Or if you want to know what the people in the pews really think, and you prefer your words printed on paper, why not try "Writes of the Church"?  The letters to the Church magazine the vicar really didn't need.

God's Calling: A Reflection

This morning, while preaching, I recalled the case of St Giles' Church, Tattenhoe.

When I first lived round here, Tattenhoe was a parish with no village. A tiny church in a clump of trees, with a nearby farm, halfway between Bletchley and Buckingham. The village itself was abandoned in the early modern period.

Somehow St Giles survived despite having essentially no congregation. During the summer months, there was an evening service every other Sunday, led by the clergy from St Mary's Bletchley - so the very select congregation of people who liked said BCP in old churches in a wood could be vaguely warm and have some light.  It whiled away the winters of centuries empty, dark and cold.

For hundreds of years, the building repeatedly went into a state of dereliction, and was patched up and kept going. The work of dedicated souls that the modern, efficient church of England would probably tell to pack it in and let it go, it's not worth it.

Today, Tattenhoe is an estate of Milton Keynes.  And St Giles, still wrapped in its trees but now in a modern large town, holds services, according to ACNY, every Sunday morning.

Those farmers, church wardens and priests who somehow kept the roof on St Giles through all those centuries probably did so for a variety of reasons. But I bet none of them ever knew one of their real callings. To enable people in the 21st Century to have a beautiful place to worship.

Well done, good and faithful servants.

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Want to support this blog? Want a good laugh? (or to shudder at death at any rate? Then here's two ways you can keep the Archdruid in doilies...
If you want someone to share the terrors of death while making you laugh, we have "A Hint of Death in the Morning Air" - 97 poems to make you wonder, laugh or shake your head sadly. At only £1 on Kindle. Or if you want to know what the people in the pews really think, and you prefer your words printed on paper, why not try "Writes of the Church"?  The letters to the Church magazine the vicar really didn't need.

Hearing God's Call

As Jesus was walking beside the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon called Peter and his brother Andrew. They were casting a net into the lake, for they were fishermen.  “Come, follow me,” Jesus said, “and I will send you out to fish for people.”  At once they left their nets and followed him. (Matt 4:18-20)

I love walking round lakes. The noises of the world are further away. It's easy to see, hear and feel God's wonders - the way the wind stirs up the water, the cries of a skein of geese, the amazing way a swan will seem almost too heavy for its wings as it rises from the surface of the water. The wash of the waves or the rain dripping from the trees round the shore.

Neither Galilee nor Husborne Crawley but still pretty nice don't you think?

It's out by a lake that Jesus calls those first few disciples. Simon and Andrew, James and John. To them, no doubt, the Sea of Galilee was a place of wonder. But to them it was also a workplace, and if the storms blew in sometimes a cause of concern or terror.

We live in a world of constant electronic fog, of TV and traffic and social media. Sometimes it's hard to hear God's call, that still small voice of Elijah. We don't give ourselves enough time to be, in between getting outraged and reacting and sympathising and wondering what's going to happen next in a world where every crisis is live streamed into our living rooms.

Sometimes for our good we have to get away. Doesn't have to be a lake. Can be a garden, a quiet room, a conservatory, a jog round the park, a sit in an empty church. But we need to re-set. To listen. To, as the modern jargon has it, "decompress". To hear what God has to say to us.

Though sometimes God's call will come from someone else, from a situation. God's like that. Moves in mysterious ways.

And we also need to consider what that call is. Simon and Andrew were told they would be fishing for people. Evangelists, preachers and church founders. And we can focus on churchy callings, and immediate ones. Great prophets, great church planters, being a priest or a missionary.

But consider. Anna and Simeon served quietly, obscurely in the Temple for decades - pottering about and praying and fasting and no doubt doing a bit of tidying up and dusting and carrying things around - before for 15 minutes they saw the Lord and fulfilled their callings as prophets.

And our callings can be to offices; to be those who sit beside the ones who weep; to ensure a church is open or a roof's kept waterproof; to spread a hint of God's joy as you go around your daily round as a mother, a father, a shop worker or a someone who depends on others.

I'm enjoying reading Fergus Butler-Gallie's "A Field Guide to the English Clergy" - a guide to some of the biggest misfits, rogues and eccentrics you ever heard of - and if it tells me anything at all about calling, it tells me that any kind of clerical calling is not necessarily as important or special as any other.

But God is calling each of us to a journey. To walk alongside Jesus, as the first to travel with him did. And it may be that he leads us in green pastures, or through the valley of the shadow of death - to a quiet office or a cross. But we're called to walk alongside. And whatever we're called to, we're not promised it will be easy. But we're promised the infinite love of the Spirit of God, upon us and within us, and the knowledge that Jesus is treading our journey with us.

So whatever we are doing today - whether we're Pope or Archdruid or cat-sitter or farmer - stop and listen, to hear Jesus's call. It's always "follow me". And he will lead us through whatever adventures he has planned for us, until the day it is time to follow him home.

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Want to support this blog? Want a good laugh? (or to shudder at death at any rate? Then here's two ways you can keep the Archdruid in doilies...
If you want someone to share the terrors of death while making you laugh, we have "A Hint of Death in the Morning Air" - 97 poems to make you wonder, laugh or shake your head sadly. At only £1 on Kindle. Or if you want to know what the people in the pews really think, and you prefer your words printed on paper, why not try "Writes of the Church"?  The letters to the Church magazine the vicar really didn't need.

Going Contactless

You can't please some people. We went to all the trouble of  implementing Gnarwall's very sensible idea. But he's just as grumpy as he was before.

He's a real banger-on about the Church getting into the 21st century. And he's been going on about if we want to be a proper modern religious fellowship, we ought to be going contactless.

So yeah, fair enough. It might confuse some of the older Beaker People. But if contactless is the way forward, that's fine by me. I can certainly see the advantages. Quicker, frictionless, less of all that awkward fumbling around and embarrassment.

So we've banned the Peace.

(late edit) - if you've enjoyed this joke you might like the cartoon we inadvertently stole it from. Or maybe even Dave Walker's book, Revenge of the Flower Arrangers, which contains the cartoon with this joke in it) 

The Beaker Folk Issue a Pamphlet About Civil Partnerships

The recent introduction of same-sex Civil Partnerships is such a problem, isn't it?

I mean, when we just had Civil Partnerships for people of the same gender, we had to work out a liturgy of Blessing Something We'd Rather Not Think About. And yes, it was a bit icky. But we got through it.

But now. Now it's Civil Partnerships for people of the opposite, complementary or, if you prefer, asymmetric genders. And that's even trickier. Don't get me wrong. It's not that we of the Beaker Folk - of all people - don't approve of the way  that a non-same-sex Civil Partnership apparently rejects patriarchal attitudes. Great idea. Indeed, at our own Beaker Handfastings we have the modified "Giving Away" phase of the service, where the groom's mother pleads to give him away while the bride's family say the bride would be better off without him.

And same-sex Civil Partnership was great for letting people with similar - ahem - apparatus get some of the benefits of being married, while pretending none of them were actually... you know... you're right, let's not think about it too much.

Because you wouldn't actually want to think about people in these partnerships having sex would you? After all, that's what marriage is for. Thinking about sex, obviously, not actually having it. I mean. Take  Drayton Parslow's marriage. Marjorie has once again gone off to live in a convent of Fundamental Baptist Nuns. And Drayton's gone back to brisk 15 mile walks to take his mind off things. That's how things are supposed to be in an old-fashioned English marriage. So who needs any kind of Civil Partnership? Except maybe bachelor siblings who think it might be nice to avoid a bit of inheritance tax when one of them dies. And of course they're not allowed to have Civil Partnerships.

So I'm putting out an official Beaker Folk Pamphlet on the subject of sex and relationships. Called "Stop doing that, it's beastly." And I hope that will put a end to the matter.

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Want to support this blog? Want a good laugh? (or to shudder at death at any rate? Then here's two ways you can keep the Archdruid in doilies...
If you want someone to share the terrors of death while making you laugh, we have "A Hint of Death in the Morning Air" - 97 poems to make you wonder, laugh or shake your head sadly. At only £1 on Kindle. Or if you want to know what the people in the pews really think, and you prefer your words printed on paper, why not try "Writes of the Church"?  The letters to the Church magazine the vicar really didn't need.

The Preacher in the Mask

Well done to Charlii, whose suggestion - that we steal a TV show concept and apply it to a preaching contest, in the hope of making ourselves vaguely relevant - worked out really well. And congratulations to all our contestants, who were such good sports. Although obviously I'm not such a needy has-been as to want to do anything so humiliating myself. So all the people that guessed me - even though I was quite clearly sitting there, not wearing a mask - you were wrong.

Brilliant costume, just one minor problem with "The Oak"

So the final reveals were as follows:

The China Doll - preaching on "Gods, humans and the world - seeing the divine in all creation"" -  Hnaef

The Oak Tree - preaching on "Elven Runes and the Book of Ezekiel" - Young Keith

The Wolf - preaching on "You're all doomed, you miserable sinners" - Drayton Parslow

The Tiger - preaching on "Why Elijah got it wrong about fertility cults" - Stacey Bushes

The Rocking Horse - with "The Parable of the Gold Coins" - Burton Dasset

But the ultimate winner:

The Unicorn - "Jesus is a Snowflake, Vote Republican" - Franklin Graham

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Want to support this blog? Want a good laugh? (or to shudder at death at any rate? Then here's two ways you can keep the Archdruid in doilies...
If you want someone to share the terrors of death while making you laugh, we have "A Hint of Death in the Morning Air" - 97 poems to make you wonder, laugh or shake your head sadly. At only £1 on Kindle. Or if you want to know what the people in the pews really think, and you prefer your words printed on paper, why not try "Writes of the Church"?  The letters to the Church magazine the vicar really didn't need.

Celebrating Brexit Day

I note that some are calling for church bells throughout the land to ring out to celebrate Brexit Day this month.

Here at the Beaker Folk, we wanted to mark the event. But we don't have any bells. Instead we've got some local supporters of Brexit to come along and give an appropriate Brexit nine-gun salute.

In other words, they're all going to shoot themselves in the foot. Then they can tell us all what a good idea it is, and that hopping around screaming is so much better than walking.

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Want to support this blog? Want a good laugh? (or to shudder at death at any rate? Then here's two ways you can keep the Archdruid in doilies...
If you want someone to share the terrors of death while making you laugh, we have "A Hint of Death in the Morning Air" - 97 poems to make you wonder, laugh or shake your head sadly. At only £1 on Kindle. Or if you want to know what the people in the pews really think, and you prefer your words printed on paper, why not try "Writes of the Church"?  The letters to the Church magazine the vicar really didn't need.

47th Anniversary of the First of the Last of the Summer Wine

Hymn:

A half-century's nearly gone
since these old chaps first walked upon
the Yorkshire dales, and supped their ales,
and dreamt of summer wine.

Archdruid: Where now are the old lads of olden times?

All: Those who walked the hills with ironic meanderings, and chased women in a manner that would no longer be regarded as amusing?

Norman Clegg: #NotAllOldMen

Archdruid: The Three Wise Men of the West Riding

All: And Electrical Entwistle, who was a Wise Man from the East.*

Archdruid: We remember that they remembered old times.

All: And now they are in their turn but memories.

Archdruid: And the women who chided their childish husbands are but dust.

All: And Howard's and Marina's bicycles but rust.

Archdruid: So now, in a gloomy winter's day

All: When Alan JW Bell would have scattered fake snow around the place for sure.

Archdruid: We remember all those that have passed down the Holm Valley.

All: Or rest in Upper Thong, Dukenfield or scattered abroad. 

Archdruid: By pushing Hnaef downhill in a bath tub.

Hnaef: Oh no! Not again.....

The Liturgical Bath Tub containing Hnaef (dressed in comedy safety gear) is pushed downhill, crashing into the brook

Archdruid: Well then. 'Appen I'll get a bit of sausage for me tea.

Hymn:

The last wine of Summer's gone
the golden age of BBC 1
Old blokes and women all passed on
to sip eternal wine.


*Hull

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Want to support this blog? Want a good laugh? (or to shudder at death at any rate? Then here's two ways you can keep the Archdruid in doilies...
If you want someone to share the terrors of death while making you laugh, we have "A Hint of Death in the Morning Air" - 97 poems to make you wonder, laugh or shake your head sadly. At only £1 on Kindle. Or if you want to know what the people in the pews really think, and you prefer your words printed on paper, why not try "Writes of the Church"?  The letters to the Church magazine the vicar really didn't need.

Things to Say to Get People on Your Side

New year, new you. And as church leaders are easing back into their jobs after 3 days off since the Sunday After, the first church committee meetings of the year loom on the horizon.

And you may be thinking this is the year that people accept you're the one that's right about everything. But you may also be aware that nobody agrees with you. And whether you're the pastor, or the wannabe power behind the throne, that's not good news when you're definitely right about starting or stopping whatever it is. So here's the Beaker list of things to put in front of your opinions to make it clear to meanest intelligence or heretic that you're definitely right.

And, to help out during meetings - there's a handy bingo card as well.

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 "A lot of people are saying..."

 "When I wrote to the archdeacon about this, she didn't disagree with me... "

 "I feel God is saying - and I'm sure we wouldn't want to ignore God..."

 "I ran a poll among the congregation. Though they'd like their names kept anonymous. And will lie if you ask them because they don't like to go against the vicar."

 "Revd Howlett - so lovely and wise, and there were 300 in the choir alone in his day - thought..."

 "We could do that but a lot of people would leave."

 "The mood in the village..."

"At my last parish we always..."

 "I met someone last week who said they'd definitely come if we..."

 "This service/carpet/tea shop has been part of the fabric of the church since 1892... "

"If we're going to vote on this I think we should ask the whole congregation."

 "It worked for Holy Trinity Brompton."

 "We've never done it before. And when we did it didn't work."

 "All the people on Twitter said... "

 "My aunt Thelma would be most upset at this. No, she's buried out by the south wall..."

 "In this book about a massively successful church what they did was..."

 "...you wouldn't know them; they go to a different church."

 "I'm the bloody vicar, so obey, minions." (not always recommended)

"At Spring Harvest..."

Write an anonymous letter. That always works.

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Want to support this blog? Want a good laugh? (or to shudder at death at any rate? Then here's two ways you can keep the Archdruid in doilies...
If you want someone to share the terrors of death while making you laugh, we have "A Hint of Death in the Morning Air" - 97 poems to make you wonder, laugh or shake your head sadly. At only £1 on Kindle. Or if you want to know what the people in the pews really think, and you prefer your words printed on paper, why not try "Writes of the Church"?  The letters to the Church magazine the vicar really didn't need.