Angles from the Realms of Glory

Young Keith, who has an interest in these things, has pointed out to me that someone arrived on this website yesterday having searched for "an angle of peace and goodwill".

Now I assume, dear readers, that this was a typographical inexactitude. But it did leave me wondering - what actually was the angel of elevation when they appeared to the shepherds? In other words - what was the angle from the realms of glory?

We can take a certain amount from the Biblical text¹:
"An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified."


I have assumed that "the glory of the Lord"  was focussed from the angel before them. For it to shine around them, then the angel must therefore have been at a sufficient height that the glory could be directed both behind and before them. The diagram below may help.

Now the angel had to be close enough to them to be able to talk to them - and in such a way that he gave quite a lot of detailed information. So on a windy hillside in a bleak midwinter, with the frosty wind moaning, I will assume that the long diagonal shown in the diagram cannot have been more than about 20 feet. To shine the glory over the head of the tallest shepherd (we'll say 5 feet, because though they won't have been short of protein it makes the sums easier and it was the 1st Century BC) the angel would have to have been at a height therefore of at least 12 feet. Which gives us a minimum angle from the realm of glory of about 36^o. Clearly the angle cannot be as high as 90^o, for reasons of face-to-face communication and the modesty of the angel. I would say that for effective eye contact (and some angels have a lot of eyes) the shepherds would not want to be looking up at more than a 45^o angel.

So my conclusion is that the angle from the realm of glory is somewhere between 36 and 45 degrees. And possibly this would cover the complete range of the angel choir when they all appeared together. This may not sound very important just at the moment, dear readers, but it does mean that next time you're on a darkened hillside you'll know where to look.

[1] Luke 2:8-14 New International Version  Hodder & Stoughton 1986 (the formerly nice blue leather one with the now terribly battered cover). Drayton tells me I should reference the author as "God" but I think he's probably wrong there. If you see what I mean.
[2] Angel supplied by Gospel Gifs

Moot House check in

Hnaef
Moot House
Hnaef just checked in at Moot House.

New venue - Moot House

Moot House.
Hnaef created a new Venue: Moot House.

Appropriate use of technology

Dear all -

Following my recent travels, I have discovered the excitements of Foursquare! Mrs Hnaef has encouraged me to check in whenever I go to any location (they're called "venues"), and then anyone can find out where I am! She says that this is "excellent use of technology", and very similar to cairn-building, and so appropriately Beakerish!

When I first broached the subject with our lady Archdruid, Eileen seemed less than impressed, but a hurried discussion, at Mrs Hnaef's prompting, seems to have changed her mind. In fact, the Archdruid even suggested a setting on my mobile telephone which allows it to update my location automatically, with no intervention from me!

I look forward to sharing my exciting journeys with you all!

Yours, Hnaef.

Single-artist meme thing

Yet another music meme but then hey it's Yule. This is from that notorious Man Utd supporter, Phil Ritchie, and the rules are:

Using only song names from ONE ARTIST, answer these questions. Be as clever as you can. You can't use the band I used. Try not to repeat a song title. It's a lot harder than you think...

Needless to say, just a short week before the 10th anniversary of her untimely death, I choose Kirsty MacColl.

Pick your Artist Kirsty
Describe yourself  In these shoes?
How do you feel England 2, Colombia 0
If you could go anywhere, where would you go  Soho Square
Your favourite form of transportation Walking Down Madison
Your best friend is  A guy walks down the chip shop, swears he's Elvis
You and your best friends are Us Amazonians
If your life was a TV show, what would it be called Can't stop killing you
What is life to you Titanic Days 
Your current relationship   Don't run away from me now
Your fear "Darling, let's have another baby"
What is the best advice you have to give Don't come the cowboy with me, Sonny Jim
I would like to die... My way home
Time of day  The end of a perfect day
My motto  Tomorrow never comes




Those with ears to be tagged, let them be tagged...

An artificial community of people wanting an ideal life

Fascinated by this article on the murder  and suicide in Celebration, Fla - the "perfect small town" created by Disney. And a couple of deaths in violent circumstances in a fairly long period of time doesn't seem so bad.

But it did leave me wondering. Where do the people of Celebration go when they want that idyllic holiday? Luton?

Festival of Festive Foliage

Archdruid's Note: the Yule gathering-in of evergreen leaves, a symbol of everlasting life and hope in the midst of a deciduous world, is of great antiquity. Some have claimed that it is Celtic or even pre-Celtic. While others might point out that the first record of this happening is about the 15th Century. Either way the Festival Of Festive Foliage is an important part of Community Life, as we prepare for the Solsticial Darkapocalypse by gathering reminders of life and growth. For without growth there is no life, and without life no growth. And without that Christmas-tree smell where would Greg Lake's "I believe in Father Christmas" have found a rhyme for "peal of a bell"?

The Festival of Festive Foliage is a word-free liturgyn. We carry out this liturgical act with a soundtrack of "Stop the Cavalry". You may like to re-create the awesome experience this engenders by playing the video below.

Act of Gathering

The Moot House is empty except for Eileen and Daphne Hnaef. In front of the Important People's Area, on the  floor of the Moot House is drawn a large round circle. Before the Ceremony started, there was a small "Making the Circle" ceremony, which was both incomprehensible and rather boring. 

Ardwulf enters, bearing a sprig of holly. He lays it in the circle and takes his accustomed place.

Drogo and Marston enter, dragging a small Yule Log. They position it in the circle and take their accustomed places.

Edith Weston enters, bearing an amaryllis in flower.  There is a disagreement over whether this strictly constitutes foliage. The Archdruid suggests it be removed, but Edith appears on the edge of tears. For the sake of a peaceable community, the Archdruid is persuaded to let it lie. Lip-readers could see that she is muttering "it's a bloody flower" under her breath.

Aelfrithe enters, bearing a poinsettia. Mrs Hnaef persuades the Archdruid that those red things aren't flowers, they're a special kind of leaf. The Archdruid agrees to let it lie.


Elrod enters, bearing a bough of pyracantha. In line with good Health and Safety practice he is wearing wicket-keeper's gloves and welder's goggles. Sadly the goggles make him completely blind, so he trips over the Yule Log and impales his ear on the holly. He removes the googles, leaves the pyracantha where he dropped it, and takes his place, dabbing his bleeding ear with a piece of tissue.

Mr Woodhouse enters, with his son Mansfield bearing an African Violet. The Archdruid requests that Daphne bring it to her "because it's so lovely and I'd like to look more closely at it". Receiving it, she pulls all the flowers off and then throws the pot at Mansfield. Mansfield ducks and it catches Elrod a glancing blow. Mr Woodhouse goes back off to the Great House, saying he knew it would be dangerous to go to a ceremony.

Eloise enters, bearing a pine bough. The Archdruid smiles and makes a sign of blessing. Eloise discovers that Elrod has stood in her accustomed place, and throws him out. Elrod isn't having a great time.

 Drayton, having been convinced there is nothing pagan at all about collecting great piles of evergreen boughs for Yule, enters, bearing one end of a piece of ivy. Ten yards behind him, Kylie holds up the other end.  They take their accustomed places.

Amelie enters, bearing a blade of grass. She sees the ivy and asks whether it's poison ivy, as she's allergic to it. Drayton tells her it's not, Amelie says how does he know? Eileen points out that poison ivy doesn't grow in the United Kingdom. Amelie says that foreign species are being introduced all the time - haven't we all heard about that manatee living in the Serpentine? Eileen tells her to sit down and shut up. Amelie takes her accustomed place.

Burton Dassett appears, dragging a 12 foot Christmas tree on a go-kart.  It gets stuck in the door. He pulls it a bit but nothing happens. Then a bit more, and it topples off the go-kart and lands on Burton. Staggering around with his head wrapped in tinsel and fairy lights (for reasons known only to himself he has pre-decorated it), Burton crashes into Elrod and they both fall to the ground. Elrod catches his hand on a broken bauble.

Hnaef, who having spent the last week in an airport terminal has joined in the seasonal spirit in more ways than one, enters. Or to be precise he hurtles into the Moot House on a tractor, pulling a decent-sized pine tree. He runs over Elrod's foot, then shoots back out through the North-East Sunrise Door, scattering Beaker Folk in all directions. In the couple of moments that it takes her to dive behind the Liturgical Focus Table, Eileen notes that Hnaef, unlike Elrod, is wearing safety trainers. He has done well.

Anthem

The choir of little children break into the "choir" bit from The Darkness's "Christmas Time".

Act of Departure

Scared and dishevelled Beaker People climb back off the floor, and file off for a quick one before Filling Up of Beakers. At least the ceremony wasn't as bad or dangerous as last year. 

Doubts about Blinky

The rabbits really are quite worried about little Blinky.

They say he's too small, his fur is too black and shiny and they reckon he's wearing fake ears.

In fact, they strongly suspect he's a mole.

He setteth me upon high places

I've had a number of worried Beaker People approach me concerning Drayton's approach to his own and other people's safety while repairing the roof of St Bogwulf's Chapel.

First thing to say is, yes I am pressing for him to get a move on. It's hard enough for him up there as it is, but when the snow arrives again there's a real danger that he might slip off and hurt some-one.

The good news is that Drayton's faith is keeping him going in all this. His conviction that his feet are as those of the hind means he has no fear of falling from the roof, although it makes the purchase of safety shoes tricky. While his belief that the Good News is as a lamp unto his feet means he can happily work all night. I'm not too worried about his lack of sleep as we all know that REM sleep is necessary for processing things you've learnt during the day, and Drayton never seems to learn anything.

But in accordance with good Health and Safety practice I've insisted that he wears hi-viz and a hard hat. Partly because if he falls off at least people will have a sporting chance of seeing him coming and getting out the way.  And partly because, dressed up like that he reminds me of the sort of applicant a "Village People X-Factor" would have rejected.

White Christmas?

The weatherpeople are saying that cold winds, rain, sleet and snow are on the way - maybe even stretching through Yule and to the secular New Year.

The Beaker People are ever so excited. Some are already looking out the window, hoping to see some flurries of snow. Even though I keep telling them that they'll see nothing. But then, some of them are looking out for Santa already, so hope maybe springs eternal.

The cancellation of Advent has required a certain amount of re-juggling of the schedule. I'm going to have to initiate a bit of a holding pattern while we come up with some new creative liturgy, so it's going to be pebbles 'n' tea-lights for the next few days, until I have some bright ideas. That's the trouble with cutting edge alternative worship - you can't just pull a book out, work out what day it is and follow the recipe.

Doing up the House (of God)

In many respects she is a flint-hearted, brass-necked, iron-foreheaded heretic. But still Eileen has been very kind to me.

Allowing me the use of her old family chapel was typical of her generosity. And she has only set me a few minor conditions - such as re-pointing the masonry with authentic lime mortar, once the weather is warmer. And fixing the roof - although, to be honest, that can be quite dangerous in this season, especially as she has stipulated that work can only be carried out from the outside, during the hours of darkness.  Yet I can rejoice that I know that "my steps are enlarged, so that my feet do not slip" (Ps 18:36). In due time I hope my steps will reduce in size again, hopefully once the temperature has gone up in the chapel and my feet stop swelling.

I am aware that the Beaker People have returned to the Moot House this evening for Filling up of Beakers. I was never under the impression that my chapel's popularity would abide for long - for surely the people of the earth are fickle and unfaithful, swayed as they are by offers of free doughnuts and mead.  But  the tightrope-walking Baptists are still with me - although I am still disturbed by some of their translations, as in their unlikely belief that St Paul was converted "on the rope to Damascus". And also by their refusal to use a safety net, on the grounds that "underneath are the everlasting arms".  And Kylie and Kayleigh have kindly offered once again to lead the worship group, once we can find "a suitably hunky worship leader".