Keep Space Tidy

Another in a series of reports on junk in space.

Apparently it's cluttered up there. What with all the bits of old booster rocket, the remains of satellites hit by meteors, left-over rubbish from the making of The Clangers and unsold copies of John Prescott's autobiography. And I've a nasty suspicion, now I think of it, about astronauts' sanitary arrangements. In short, it's increasingly dangerous to anything or anyone else coming up to join them, what with spanners and fuel pods and positron drives whizzing around at high speed. A bit like driving through Dunstable on a Friday night, is where I'm trying to go here.

And it makes me think. What is it about this species that we can't leave anything as we found it? Our roadsides littered with McDonalds cartons (other fast-food litter is also available): plastic floating round in circles in the North Pacific; guillemots covered in oil: hedgehogs trapped in beer can plastic collars - we just trash the place. And given all the mess we've made on earth, we're doing it to the sky now.

I know that Original Sin, like Papal infallibility and biblical inerrancy, isn't actually in the Bible. Although of course the first two Laws of Thermodynamics are. But even so, you sometimes wonder if there's just a grain of truth in old St Augustine (of Hippo, not the other one) and his pessimistic view of the world. But then I remember that on some measures the good ol' USA is one of the most Christian of countries, and it can't be that only the unredeemed are involved in blasting stuff into space and then leaving it up there.

So I despair. In good scientific manner, a solution is of course proposed - in the same way that we had to invent lung cancer treatments because we invented smoking, and some scientists want to chuck iron filings in the ocean to counter global warming. And we invented cars so we had to build the M25 and invent the Congestion Charge. So a giant space-net is suggested, to catch all the orbital debris. Sounds like another excuse to build some cool stuff and make whizzy-bang noises. But knowing the way this species behaves, we'd probably end up accidentally catching Space Dolphins as well.

No-one is Innocent

I've been for a walk down the cliffs at West Bay today. Amazing place, Bridport/West Bay. Setting of one of Hardy's most ironic short stories - and if it's one of Hardy's most ironic, you're certainly in irony country.

When you consider that West Bay was the setting for the Nick Berry "vehicle" Harbour Lights, it reminds you that we are all, deep down, guilty. And Robert expands on this in his consideration of societal sin - the idea that, although these days we are obsessed with individual sin and salvation, the Biblical view is one of corporate responsibility. If a window is smashed in Dalston, on this view, we all smashed it. 

Or, your might say - we put the society together where these things can happen - we share in the acquisitiveness and the get-rich-quick ethos, we individualise to the point where every man and woman is an island. But we share our human nature, we share the spaces in which we live, we share a network of humanity. Maybe the whole of society should be in the dock. Ask not for whom the broken glass tinkles. It tinkles for thee.

Drayton is at One

I have reached a reconciliation with the Lord.

Oddly enough, it was the so-called Archdruid across the Paddock that brought me to this. Which goes to show that, if God can speak through a donkey, then there is no end to the channels through which He can speak.

Not with regard to Eileen's ludicrous suggestion that half of my congregation are actually de facto Arians. How could anyone go to church regularly for perhaps decades, and still come away without a firm understanding of the two natures of our Lord?  Though, now I come to think about it, she may have a point.

And nor was it when she suggested to me that I worshipped a God of mercy, who would forive me my accidental transgression.  Although when I think about it, she is right. That is the message that I first read in the Gospel, that gave me hope so many years ago, that day when, in a frenzy of guilt and doubt, I laid before the Lord my over-indulgence in Victory V tablets. I realised I had weakly surrendered to Man's easy relef and pleasure when I should have faced that common cold in the power of faith alone.

But what really did it was when Eileen pointed out to me what day it is tomorrow in the so-called "Calendar" that the more idolatrous churches follow. And I realised that, if I continue to pour ashes upon myself, people are likely to confuse me with an Anglo Catholic.

So, my soul washed clean and my conscience clear, I'm off into the Manse now. I have pancakes to cook. Marjorie always insists that only a man can cook pancakes properly.

A late-nighter

It is unlike me to be awake so late at night.

I can hear the sound of the drunkards in the Crown and Cushion. They sound so happy in their sin. By what definition do we declare them "miserable" sinners?

I console myself that the day will come when they have to account for every pint of Everard's they have consumed. Then the smiles will be on the other sides of their faces - when they fall into the vengeful hands of a loving God.

The Wages of Festering Sin

Jimmy is such a rebellious young man.

I saw him today and his eczema seems worse than ever. He tells me that young Arabella has left him, convinced that he has been unfaithful to her and this has caused his ailment.

I told Jimmy that indeed these were just the kinds of side-effects we can expect when we leave the paths of righteousness and follow after lust and depravity. I was going to tell him that, for his own good, I was going to have to bar him from Sunday morning worship for another fortnight, or until he repented publicly - but he'd walked off before I could say that.

The funny thing is that Arabella, who clearly has greater spiritual insight than Jimmy, has stopped attending St Swithin's and is now attending Salem Chapel with us. The vicar's not very happy.  But as I said to Mrs Gently (I hesitate to call her "Reverend") when I saw her in the town this afternoon, God doesn't want her doing that job anyway. She should leave spiritual guidance to her husband. She said quite a few things to me in reply, but none that I could reproduce on a family Blogsite.  No wonder she's losing her congregation when she swears like that.

Coffee Morning

I just popped in from another of our successful evangelistic programmes, the Coffee Morning. I've always been very worried about the use of coffee. It's not in the Bible and therefore I have no idea whether God approves or disapproves of its use. I know the latitudarian view would be that if it's not forbidden it's allowed, but I'm not sure that's such a wise maxim. I prefer to take the middle view that if it's not forbidden it's suspect.

In any case, I was hoping to talk to some of the other local Unsaved that I hear attend for the excellent economy-level fair-trade instant coffee. But Jimmy was there with his girlfriend.

I've heard rumours that young Arabella is some kind of Anglican. Therefore I approached the two of them discreetly, to find out whether Arabella is the sort of namby-pamby pinko-liberal equal-opportunities Anglican that might be just the sort of person to lead Jimmy into the kind of sexual sin that I am convinced lies behind his eczema. However on closer inspection Arabella herself appears to be clear of infectious skin diseases of any kind. So I mentioned to her that on balance, it would appear Jimmy's hidden depravity was either confined to Jimmy himself or that he was going elsewhere to satisfy his appetites.

When I left a few minutes ago, Jimmy was sitting, his coffee untouched, with a kind of strained look on his face. While Arabella was glaring across the table at him with pursed lips - and not pursed in such a way as to be preparing to kiss.

A nice girl, Arabella. I'm sure she'll sort him out.

Pastoral Duties

Every Friday, the ladies of Frisby Independent Baptists hold a "Mums and Toddlers" Group.

When I heard this I approved. A form of evangelism, meeting people at the place where they have need. What could be better? So when Mrs Forbes invited me along for tea and buns with the mothers and toddlers, I was delighted.

But I was less sanguine about it after I visited the group. On close questioning of a number of the mothers, I discovered that not all were actually married to the fathers of their children. A few were divorced, some had never married, and several were actually living in a state of unmarried, blissful unwedlock.

Obviously when I realised the situation I withdrew rapidly. I knew I must pray and consider before doing anything rash. Clearly driving a dozen or so young ladies and their assorted children out into the street for their promiscuous behaviour would be wrong, however deserving of such treatment they might be. So I explained that I was in need of a period of prayer and left.

I've taken a few cold showers since this morning, so I'm feeling clean again now. And I'm still wondering how I'm going to deal with situation. Just as soon as I've sacked Mrs Forbes for running such a group of ill-repute, I'll put my mind to the problem properly.

Festering Sin Continues

Saw young Jimmy again today, down in Frisby-on-Soar Building Society.

Eczema looks worse.

I blame the sin.

I told him so, and I gave him a list of particular sins - particularly sexual ones - that might be causing this issue.

Odd. He didn't thank me. Just apologised to all the other people in the queue.

Counselling

My first visitor for Pastoral Counselling.

Jimmy, one of the members of the Young Adults Group, is suffering from awful eczema. He wondered whether I'd pray for his healing. Apparently the previous minister, Mr Syston Whyte-Plumb, had prayed for him but without success.

But I sensed that the healing Jimmy needed was much deeper than merely physical healing. I suggested that he is suffering from unconfessed sin - that his physical manifestations are in fact caused by some filthy, unmentionable, unspeakable sin. One that must be brought to the surface and named before it is healed.

I told Jimmy that, to be on the safe side, I was banning him from attending Divine Worship until the sin is repented of and forgiven. I suggested he go away and pray - on bended knees, and with the trembling fear of Eternal fire - that this sin be revealed to him, so we can resolve it through prayer.

Clearly, he was greatly moved. Pierced to the heart, some would say. But he still wouldn't tell me what sin he is concealing. But he did say he'd go off and pray about it.