Preparing for Pentecost

It looks like we're all set for Pentecost then.

The flame-throwers will be fired into the Moot House at a height of nine feet. This will enable us to provide that authentic "tongues of fire" effect without incinerating the inhabitants.

Meanwhile the doves will be released from their basket in the centre of the Moot House precisely 30 seconds after the tongues of fire are extinguished. We don't want any quick-roast doves. Not after last time. Of course, the doves will fly upwards, out of the windows in the Moot House roof. We realise that this may be a very bad metaphor for Pentecost, but have you ever tried getting a dove to fly downwards? We did a couple of years ago, but it was murder trying to fix all those breadcrumbs to Hnaef.

We will also be closing the sluice gate on the brook that runs under the Moot House. We expect that the gentle rippling will give a suitably spiritual feel to the event. And it may put out any doves that we accidentally incinerate should we get the timing wrong. We have the doors set to fail safe in the event that the Moot House fills with water, as happens on occasion.

Then at the end, when the Beaker People are terrified by the fire, confused by flapping doves and paddling around ankle deep in muddy water, we're going to pump the dry ice into the Moot House to represent the divine presence. If cognitive dissonance doesn't make the whole mob of them think they've had a religious experience, I don't know what will.

The Tunnel of Sin

Some creative worship ideas are maybe better left as ideas, and never translated into reality. The "Tunnel of Sin" being one of them.

The idea was kind of good - like a theological Tunnel of Love. Young Keith put the tunnel up over a dip in the land. As you went into the tunnel, heading downhill, you noticed that on the sides of the tunnel were painted (in luminous paint) the words of various sins - "Gluttony", "Avarice", "Vertigo" and so on. (I think "Vertigo" was a mistake).

And then when you hit the bottom of the tunnel, you could look ahead and up. And beholding the light at the end of the proverbial, you would walk upwards into sunlight and celebrate your restoration to the land of the living! A truly enlivening worship experience, in which you would literally re-create your regeneration.

After the tunnel had been up for an hour or so, we had to send in a search party. Three blokes were stood around the word "Lust", stroking the sinuous curves of the letter "U" and refusing to leave. Burton Dasset was stopped in the tunnel at the point where it said "Fussiness", arguing that Fussiness isn't a sin but a sign of belief in godly order. And Marston was stood shouting that there was nothing wrong with "Anger", as it could be righteous Anger - which is a good thing. He told us that if we didn't rectify things immediately, he'd rip the side out of the tunnel.

Let's not do this again.

The Image of God

Sometimes it can be hard, trying to lead people to enlightenment.

Take this morning. As part of our "creative worship" initiative, I'd asked the Beaker Folk to draw the image they saw, when they thought of God.

Well, it was a motley enough gallery that took shape, 'tis true. A couple of pictures of Santa. Some other old-looking blokes with beards. Burton drew a series of mathematical equations, and explained that God is the Immutable Logic behind the physics of Creation. Young Keith drew a picture which looked remarkably like my own late father, which was disturbing. But not so disturbing as the giant mincing machine with which Morgwn had equipped the Deity.

Well, I gathered them together for "Reflecting Time". I pointed out to them that, Burton excepted, all had drawn God as a Big Bloke in the Sky. Had they forgotten, I asked them, what day it was? Had they merely thought of God as the alpha-male conqueror of Chaos? The avenging judge? Must God always be doing, acting and smiting? Can God not be life-giving, nurturing, nourishing? Can God not allow to grow, instead of tearing up weeds and using artificial fertiliser? In short, on this most Mothering of Sundays, can we not think of God as our Mother?

Well, there was a thoughtful silence. I like to think this was because they were mulling over my words - and not just because they were wondering how to repair the table I had inadvertently smashed with my cricket bat during my talk.

As I was taking the pictures out just now to the Recycling shed, Drayton Parslow walked past. I showed him Morgwyn's picture, with the Book of Rules, the scales, the mincing machine and all, and asked if he'd ever seen anything like it. All Drayton asked was, didn't I know it was against the 2nd Commandment to draw an image of God? Especially one that accurate.

Fish & Chip Church

I think Young Keith may be onto a winner with this one.

His "Pizza Church" was a total failure, as everybody just phoned up for delivery. And getting a music group, three stewards and preacher into that delivery van was a real squeeze.

But the point about Fish & Chips is that the tradition is for people to come out and buy it - particularly on a cold evening like tonight. We've been writing the songs up on scrappy sheets of A4 paper in marker pen, and the "wisdom nuggets" we're using instead of proper readings are scribbled up on brightly-coloured, badly cut-out stars.

We encourage people to stand around, eating out of their hygienic, faux newspaper wrapping. This gives the worship that effortless informality we associate with the chippie. And also imparts a sense of nostalgia for a simpler past. Albeit it makes the sharing of the peace a bit greasy. And it's tricky to clap during the livelier songs - splintering batter going everywhere.

All in all though, we'll give it another go. Today's sermon "Why faith is like a pickled egg" went down a storm. Which, to be fair, is better than the pickled eggs.

Sofa Shop Church

We're considering another of Young Keith's ideas today - Sofa Shop Church.

There is some real research behind this one. Firstly, Keith has noted that many people don't go out to church on Sunday evenings - they prefer instead to sit on the sofa and - in the case of the particularly devout - watch Songs of Praise. He also points out that people in adverts for sofa shops are always very happy. And that sofas are much more comfy than proper church chairs, and infinitely more so than pews. Young Keith has gone so far as to point out that the use of rock-hard pews in Drayton's chapel is a direct and flagrant transgression of Isa 40: "Comfort, comfort ye my people."

I can see a lot of sound reasoning in this. If we combined Sofa Church with Cafe Church - and maybe put in Takeaway Pizza Church for good measure, we'd reach an environment that was attractive to the non-religious and very nice to be in. In fact people might forget about the outside world completely, apart from when someone had to get up and answer the door for the latest delivery of pizza.

But the trouble with a Sofa Shop Church is surely that there's always a sale on. How could we cope with constantly having to tell people it's a good idea to come along? It sounds like a lot of work. And I've seen the enthusiasm people in sofa shop sales have to have. I can't honestly see where we'd get that, round here.

Extreme Worship

Afraid we've had to call off this morning's planned "Extreme Worship" event.

Young Keith's uncle the police constable tells me that if we want to drive around the village with the worship group clamped onto the top of four Citroen C4s, singing "I hear the Sound of Rustling", we'll have to have all the roads closed. And come up with some way of stopping the music blowing away.

Real Traditional Celtic Worship

It being an  eerie and other-worldly time of year today, I got the inevitable request that we did some "proper Celtic worship". They decided that it was time to go for the real "Scent of the Hebridean Isles" experience.

I tried to dissuade them. Begged them. But they said no, it's the right time of the year so we're going to celebrate in the Traditional Celtic Style.

So I got them to stand in water for six hours, in the Celtic tradition. Obviously, this being the Husbourne brook and not the sea, they were only in it up to their ankles, but that didn't stop them complaining that they were cold. So I got Hnaef to play the bagpipes at them, and then they stopped moaning about the brook.

But they asked me - what about St Kevin and the blackbird's nest - can we go some way towards re-creating that? And I must admit, it gave me pause for thought - I mean, St Kevin? That's as likely as St Wayne or St Kayleigh, isn't it? But it turns out they were right. Proper Celtic saint and all. But I didn't see how we could get blackbirds to nest in their hands - particularly at this time of the year - so I compromised. We nipped back up to the Great House for supplies, and then threw some frozen chickens at them. Mind you, we stopped that fairly quick. Partly because it seemed a waste of chickens, and partly because most of the Beaker People were stuck in the mud at the bottom of the brook. Where's the sport in throwing birds at a standing target?

So to complete the Celtic Experience, we read a three-hour service in Latin to them, while Young Keith threw buckets of ice-cold water over them. Obviously we could have got cold with all this going on, but the good news is that in true Celtic and monastic style we'd a bottle of Buckie wine to keep the chill out.

All in all, it's true to say that the Beaker People have had better days. But I've had a great time. It goes against the grain, but I reckon we should have a Traditional Celtic Day again.

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By way of rehabilitating St Kevin, notice the following comment on his Orthodoxwiki entry:

"Kevin valued his solitude very much; overmuch, some would say. When, at the beginning of his hermit's life, a woman followed him constantly, trying to get him to marry her, he eventually solved the problem by pushing her off a cliff."

Maybe I'm warming to him after all.

Best Practice in Worship Focus Use

The use of the worship focus can be very important. We know that historically crosses, crucifixes, icons and other objects have been used to direct the attention of congregations and educate them - and consider the triptychs of mediaeval religious art. And in Beaker tradition we find it important that people know the right way to look. Freed as I now am, dear Readers, from the task of eavesdropping on the Beaker People, I have been able to do some serious research into the way in which different traditions can enable people to focus during worship.

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In this first example, there is no argument about who is the focus of the congregation's attention. Apart from A and B, who are left over from my researches into worship furniture arrangements.

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In this second example, the preacher has been given a better sense of priorities.

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If the example below fits in with your beliefs - where else could you possibly focus?

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Here, all extraneous objects of interest have been removed, enabling the congregation to put its attention, under divine guidance, where it is most important.

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A typical Beaker arrangement - in a circle so we all get the sense of sharing. A and B really should get a room. While "ADE", whoever that is, is quite annoyed about the attention being paid to K (Kylie, or, as it may be, Kayleigh). Likewise, D is wondering what C finds so interesting in E.

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A perfect Beaker worship setting. All eyes are on the triad of tea lights - soothing the spirits and elevating their souls.

Uillean Pipes

It has been suggested that I might like Uillean pipes, if I'm going to ban the more familiar Scottish-type pipes. And there is a point I like about them.

It turns out that the Uillean pipes have a concept of the "practice pipes", which are a kind of sawn-off set with less functionality to make them easier to learn. And I approve. In future Beaker people are allowed to use Uillean pipes, as long as they use the pipes without the bag. Or the bag without the pipes.

Not intended for worship

You see, this is why we have abjured all things Celtic Christian.

Yes, it's all very easy to get suckered in. They lure you with the smell of heather and the Coolins a'pulling you away and the haunting tone of the violin and the rhythm of a bodhrán.

And so, in a moment of weakness, full of the spirit of the Ancient North and West, you say OK. Have your Celtic worship evening.

And what do you get?

Bagpipes. That's what. Bagpipes.

That's it. I'm not being fooled again. Celtic liturgy is banned again.

The retreat on Moscow

An interesting experiment, and thanks to Steve for kind-of suggesting it. I don't suppose many of our Pilgrims will have used the MoSCoW technique as part of project management. It's a simple enough game to play - you list all the possible things you could make or do, then set a time period within which you've got to achieve them - and then list them as Must, Should, Could or Won't (MoSCoW, you see). Then you set a shorter period, take the Musts and divide them into the Musts, Shoulds Coulds etc for that shorter period. A neat way of sorting out the wheat from the chaff of requirements.

But I'm not aware of anyone ever doing MoSCoW in a liturgical setting. So it had to be worth a try. We said to the Beaker People - over a period of eight weeks (or four "sprints") how would you grade the things we normally do in worship?

Among the Musts were "Holding a pebble", "Praying", "Feeling good about ourselves", "Playing some Coldplay" and many others. I was a little concerned that "Reading the Bible" was listed as a "Should", but I figured we'd get around to it in Sprint 3 or thereabouts. And "Allow women Bishops" being rated as a "Won't" was just teasing, I'm sure.

But then we narrowed it down to today's worship - you've got one hour, I said (for we are not a fundamentalist creed) - what must we fit into the hour? The answers were "Lighting a tea light", "Humming", "Gossiping", "Notices", "Looking out the window" and "Coffee". OK, they're all valid items in an act of worship, and to be honest it wasn't much different to many of our other Occasions. But we've just done the MoSCoW for this afternoon, and we're gonna have exactly the same.

This Agile worship leading's not all it's cracked up to be.

Festival of Star Trek

Some people are never happy.

You wanted a Star Trek-themed service. So we had one.
Fake ears all round.
An entire liturgy written in Klingon.
Nothing "illogical" in the Statement of Belief".
The song "You raise me up" re-written as "You beam me up".
A very thorough sermon explaining why the Ascension was nothing like teleportation - thanks to Burton, in particular for the Power-Point diagrams.

But I went to all the trouble of getting everyone those Star Trek replica costumes. Obviously the Druidic Synod members got the yellowy t-shirts. But I still don't understand what it was about the red ones that you all objected to.

A celebration of Venns

Being the good Anglican that he apparently is, Hnaef looked up from his early-morning theological compromise today at breakfast to tell me that he was celebrating the Venn family today. Three generations of Venns were evangelical divines. And worthy guys they were.

But evangelical divines don't make for exciting cutting-edge liturgy. Which is why, in honour of another Venn, Beaker Folk will find three very large intersecting circles on the courtyard. I hope, as part of Pouring Out of Beakers, that we will spend our time classifying people into differing sets and sub-sets. The intersections between the circles reminding us that life is as much both/and as either/or.

I've invited Drayton Parslow over as an act of ecumenical witness. He will mostly be standing outside all three circles, as an act of stubbornness. In a class of his own, is Drayton.

Dances and Didgeridoos

I am intrigued to read the blogpost at The Artsy Honker in which Kathryn Rose remarks that the problem of most traditional hymns is the over-slow way in which they are played. They should be livelier, she says.

Here at the Beaker Folk, I would disagree. From our perspective the main problem with traditional hymns is that they often have a great deal of theology in them. And as Nestorius and Arius discovered, the trouble with theology is that there is so often a winner and a loser. Consider Charles Wesley's "Hark how all the Welkin Rings":

"Veiled in flesh, the Godhead see,
hail the incarnate Deity!
pleased as man with men to appear,
Jesus, our Emmanuel here!"

The accusations and rows can be heard hours later, as the side that claims Charles Wesley was just being poetic throws flower-pots at the side that claims he was a thoroughgoing Docetist. Not to mention the suggestions that "man with men" could perhaps be re-written in these egalitarian times. Whereas if Charlie W. had written "I want to be out of my depth in your love", both sides could have wandered off feeling slightly queasy but otherwise completely safe from fighting.

I have a couple of suggestions to get round this.

One is to use metrical psalms exclusively. The theological arguers can't argue, because the words come - more or less - straight from the Bible. Even the Wee Frees couldn't get too upset. OK, you get the odd line that is utterly incomprehensible - but then sometimes you get something as sweet as the 18th from Sternhold and Hopkins:

3  The fiery darts and thunderbolts
       disperse them here and there;
    And with his frequent lightnings he
       doth put them in great fear.

The other great advantage of these is that you can pretty well sing them all to the same three or four tunes -the 18th in this instance being beautifully suited to the tune we normally sing "The Lord's my Shepherd" to. And that cuts down on music group practice time.

There is another way to draw attention away from the theology of the hymns, and the two are not mutually exclusive. Introduce didgeridoos. The blog title "The Artsy Honker" is, I guess, a reference to Kathryn Rose's ability with that doyen of the West Gallery repertoire, the serpent. And the serpent itself, like its successor the ophicleide, is likely to draw some attention. But just imagine - the opening few lines of "Trust and Obey". People of right attitudes and theological sensitivity are about to rush the organ and drag the organist out of the church to stop him. But then - what's that? Surely somebody has written a didgeridoo part into the hymn. All discussion of theology and musical validity is forgotten, as everyone gazes open-mouthed at the didgeridoo player.

Got to be worth a try, at least. I reckon.

Blessing of Cats Service

OK. So in retrospect not so smart.

But at the time we thought this might be the start of a better model of Pet service. Adopting an encounter with just one type of people - cat lovers - was more in line, we thought, with modern Church Growth Theory.

And I'm still, in retrospect, sure the principle was sound. It was just the execution that was flawed.

So we may do the Blessing of Cats again. But if we do, next time we won't sprinkle them with blessed water.

Who would have thought the cats would reacted like that to getting wet? Poor Ardwulf. Some of those scratches could take weeks to heal.

Liturgy of Friday

Archdruid: Peace be with you.

All: And also with you. Is it OK with you if we slip off a bit early?

Archdruid: Well, seeings it's Friday... what time were you thinking of?

All: And blessings to you too. Bye!

(Exit)

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Beaker Petting Farm - Health and Safety

I've always wanted a petting farm. It's that perfect combination of cheap entertainment, children's activities and a source of lamb stew that's always appealed to me.

So I'm glad we've got it open. Petting animals is always so relaxing. You feel more human - more one with the world. It's a real spiritual thing. And, of course, even goat curry is delicious if the inmates are heading towards an over-population scenario.

But we have to be constantly on our guard to the issues of health and safety. Animals can bite. They can trample. They can also spread E-coli, and the last thing we want is to be involved in anything involving that scandalous bacterium. I mean, look at Spain. And it wasn't even their cucumbers.

So please be aware of the following rules for the Petting Farm:

1. All visitors are to wear latex gloves at all times during their visit. And face masks and plastic overalls, for which a reasonable hire charge will be made.
2. A distance of four feet between any visitor and all animals must be maintained at all times.
3. Do not feed the animals. They get all the food they need already. However for a £3 contribution at the Beaker Bazaar you can get a token. It doesn't get you any animal feed - they get all they need already - but you can carry it around with you.
4. Do not, under any circumstances, wander in front of our "Dairy Stampede Show". Daisy gets very nervous in the presence of small children and my go right off her feed. And then the milk dries up.
5. The "Fantastic Mr Hamster Show" very definitely contains a hamster. And so, whatever the legal action may say, it is not 100 per cent misleading. 66 per cent at the most (she's really "Mrs" Hamster, but we didn't think that sounded so good)
6. The Chapel of Chickens contains 45 live chickens, pecking at each other and scratching up dust, wandering around looking for something to eat and generally being a bit disorganised. We based it on our Cafe Church services. Please don't give the chickens coffee as they get all they need already.
7. After visiting the Petting Farm, we will spray you with detergent. Don't worry yourself about whether that the yellow colour will ever wash out of your clothes. It won't.

We hope you have a great time at the Beaker Petting Farm, and look forward to welcoming you back. Probably after you've totally forgotten your last visit.

Traditional Latin Service

I'm really grateful to Young Keith for sorting out this morning's Latin Service.

None of us know Latin. Except Hnaef. And we've not seen Hnaef since he went off to "be" Proxima Centauri yesterday.  Though he reckoned, on the scale we were using, he wouldn't have to go any further than about Moulsoe. And of course to the original Beaker People, the Latin language would be even more foreign than it is to us - no Beaker People in the British Isles would ever have come across any Romans.

But Latin is such a beautiful sounding language. We sang it once at Taize and it really moved me. I am sure it will adorn our Occasion with its sonorous accents and that deep sense of incomprehensibility that it brings. A real dignity.

But I know Young Keith was up against it preparing this morning's service. His light was on late into the night, and I think he may even have had a young friend round to help him - no doubt she was some kind of a Latin expert. Anyway, he's not up yet so I've taken the liberty of pulling the service off the network and printing it out.

Archdruid	Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetuer adipiscing elit.
All	Maecenas porttitor congue massa.
Archdruid	Fusce posuere, magna sed pulvinar ultricies, purus lectus malesuada libero, sit amet commodo magna eros quis urna.
All	Nunc viverra imperdiet enim.
Archdruid	Fusce est.
All	Vivamus a tellus.
Archdruid	Pellentesque habitant morbi tristique senectus et netus et malesuada fames ac turpis egestas.
All	Proin pharetra nonummy pede.
Archdruid	Mauris et orci.
All	Aenean nec lorem.
Archdruid	In porttitor.
All	Donec laoreet nonummy augue.
Archdruid	Suspendisse dui purus, scelerisque at, vulputate vitae, pretium mattis, nunc.
All	Mauris eget neque at sem venenatis eleifend.
Archdruid	Ut nonummy.
All	Fusce aliquet pede non pede.
Archdruid	Suspendisse dapibus lorem pellentesque magna.
All	Integer nulla.
Archdruid	Donec blandit feugiat ligula.
All	Donec hendrerit, felis et imperdiet euismod, purus ipsum pretium metus, in lacinia nulla nisl eget sapien.
Archdruid	Donec ut est in lectus consequat consequat.
All	Etiam eget dui.
Archdruid	Aliquam erat volutpat.
All	Sed at lorem in nunc porta tristique.
Archdruid	Proin nec augue.
All	Quisque aliquam tempor magna.
Archdruid	Pellentesque habitant morbi tristique senectus et netus et malesuada fames ac turpis egestas.
All	Nunc ac magna.
Archdruid	Maecenas odio dolor, vulputate vel, auctor ac, accumsan id, felis.
All	Pellentesque cursus sagittis felis.
Archdruid	Pellentesque porttitor, velit lacinia egestas auctor, diam eros tempus arcu, nec vulputate augue magna vel risus.
All	Cras non magna vel ante adipiscing rhoncus.
Archdruid	Vivamus a mi.
All	Morbi neque.
Archdruid	Aliquam erat volutpat.
All	Integer ultrices lobortis eros.
Archdruid	Pellentesque habitant morbi tristique senectus et netus et malesuada fames ac turpis egestas.
All	Proin semper, ante vitae sollicitudin posuere, metus quam iaculis nibh, vitae scelerisque nunc massa eget pede.
Archdruid	Sed velit urna, interdum vel, ultricies vel, faucibus at, quam.
All	Donec elit est, consectetuer eget, consequat quis, tempus quis, wisi.
Archdruid	In in nunc.
All	Fusce in sapien eu purus dapibus commodo.
Archdruid	Cum sociis natoque penatibus et magnis dis parturient montes, nascetur ridiculus mus.
All	Cras faucibus condimentum odio.

Solar System Henge

On paper, this was such a great idea.

Marking out a series of concentric elipses with big pebbles, to represent the orbits of the planets in the Solar System. We figured that we'd light a fire in the middle of Big Meadow, then people could walk round the 'orbits' to represent the different planets. We reckon this is just the sort of thing that the original Beaker Folk would have done, if they'd had any idea about the heliocentric model of the solar system.

And initially it went so well. Sure, "Mercury" would have got a bit singed, but Venus, Earth and Mars were at nice, comfortable distances. Even Jupiter, although its orbit went round behind the Doily Shed. So we had to give up measuring with the rope and set the distances by eye. That was even worse with Saturn, whose orbit meant that Gwladys had to keep jumping in an out of the brook.

Still, the good news for the three playing the roles of Uranus, Neptune and Pluto was that they were able to stroll in a very leisurely manner around the village. Especially Young Keith, who found that the White Hart was on his orbit. Though when we found him later he seemed to be suffering from a bad case of conjunction.

I can't honestly say there was much spiritual benefit in all this. Although many of the outer planets enjoyed the benefits of a walk in the fresh air. Not so Burton, of course, who was Mercury. He was last seen hyperventilating in the ditch by the driveway.

Running barefoot to celebrate the Crescent Moon

 A quiet evening after the cloud and rain of this morning.

Out in the Orchard for our evening Filling up of Beakers, we saw the beautiful crescent moon peeking in and out through the trees. It's an awesome and eerie sight, is a crescent moon.

We'd thought it would be suitably romantic, in view of the youth of the season, to take part in the service in bare feet. And so we ran barefoot across the lawn to the Assembly. And lovely it was, to feel the earth beneath your feet. The sort of thing our ancient ancestors, close to nature and the secrets of the Earth, would have done. Until they discovered shoes.  However, the evening drew in as the service progressed.  And stumbling back through the trees in the twylight, Gwennifer trod on that hedgehog.

Well, I've not heard such language since Drayton's wife Marjorie caught him succumbing to temptation with that pack of wine gums. We've sent Gwennifer off to get some jabs to be on the safe side. And we've checked the hedgehog out. Physically it seems fine. Psychologically we're not so sure, but then how do you know if a hedgehog's suffering from psychological trauma? It's wandering around on the grass looking confused, but I suspect that's just normal for a hedgehog.