Ceremony of Not Blessing Things We'd Rather Not Think About

Archdruid: Brothers and sisters, we are gathered together today not to bless something we'd rather not think about.

All: And also with you.

Archdruid: The thing we'd rather not think about is something we don't necessarily think is instituted by God, or at least not in a manner we'd really want to think about. If at all. So we won't be blessing it. We'll say prayers for those who've come to us for affirmation, prayer and support. And then we'll move on to something more reasonable, which we'd rather be thinking about.

All: Too right. We want to get off to the Reception. That DJ's got a great collection of 80s Madonna records.

Archdruid: And so we now we welcome F and F (or, as it may be, M and M), who have come to be not joined in anything holy at all, although we will be praying for them to be blessed - not blessed, more kind of recognised - in their doing what we'd rather not think about. Actually, I don't like "recognised" much either.

All: It's some kind of a tribute to them that they're here at all, frankly.

Archdruid: M and M (or, as it may be F and F) - we'd rather not go into any details, but have you been to a Registry Office and signed a certain civil agreement I'm not going to mention?

F and F (or, as it may be M and M): Yes we have.

Archdruid: Members of the Beaker Folk. It's all a bit late to ask this, frankly, but does anyone know any reason why they shouldn't have done that?

Drayton Parslow (running in like a sharp-suited Dustin Hoffman): YES!  Do you know what it is they get up to?

Archdruid: We're trying not to mention it.

Drayton Parslow: Disgusting! You're all disgusting!

Archdruid: OK. M and M (or, as it may be, F and F) - we're not going to mention it, or necessarily approve. But God bless you. I mean - no, scrub that. May.... er... may you be in our prayers, whatever you get up to...

Drayton Parslow: NOT THAT!

Archdruid: And I now pronounce you two people whose private life I'm definitely not going to be thinking about. And I'm going to hope we've struck just the right balance between those who definitely aren't in favour of that kind of thing, and those who think we ought to be more in favour of that kind of thing. If you know what I mean.

All: We certainly do. Amen.

Unlimited Source of Renewable Energy Discovered

They're calling it the power source that could revolutionise renewable energy.

An almost-unlimited source of power. A portable generator in paper form.

Basically, all you have to do is put the average Daily Mail issue in front of the average liberal, and you can boil a kettle with the excess heat that is generated. It never fails, it works at the press of a URL, and it could stave off global warming (which the Fail doesn't believe in) for years to come.

Sermon on the Nativity of Nicky Campbell (1961)

Sometimes I feel I've got too tired and cynical. I was going to preach about how socialist church people believe in nationalisation, central control of the production and enforced wealth redistribution - just like Jesus did. Maybe draw a line from that to the way conservative church people believe in free enterprise, a minimum social safety net, lower taxes and a genuine free market - just like Jesus did.

But I won't. That would be tired, and cynical. And it's Nicky Campbell's birthday. And he wouldn't like us to be tired and cynical. So maybe if I just keep bashing on, some of his natural Caledonian charm will find its way into what I'm saying. He's like a Donald Farfrae for our times - upbeat, practical, remarkably youthful, and inclined to sing "Edelweiss" at a moment's notice.

So instead let's have some happy thoughts. On my way to the Moot House this morning - it's just coming up to 6.45 -  I was struck by how, despite the gray chill, there is a springly optimism in the air. The birds are singing - in a shivery kind of way - as they bustle around building nests in a desperate attempt to keep warm. The sun is going to be heaving above the horizon any time soon. As the great Police said (the new wave/reggae band, not the people enforcing law and order), "there seems to be an invisible sun/it gives heat to everyone." And, in a very real sense, I like to think that's true. The Police also made a song about a stalker, which people like to use at weddings. Later on, I'll be getting two people to discuss the song "Every Breath You Take". Ideally one from the National Secular Society and one from Christian Voice.

Sorry. Lost the thread again. It's early - in fact, it's 6.47 -  and we've got up specially this morning to celebrate the Nativity of Nicky Campbell. We thought we should rise early in the morning because, in doing this, we remember that this is what he does for us. Maybe that's why this sermon appears to consist of light-hearted and whimsical thoughts, mixed up with the sort of provocative statements that make mildly lonely people with a grudge phone in to Radio 5 at 9 am, to share their badly-thought-through prejudices and terrifying social panaceas with the rest of us.

Panacea, by the way, is the name of a Greek goddess. I think that's a great shame. I was hoping it might be the plural of "panaceum". Which would mean "panaceas" would be a very bad form of grammar. Or not? Maybe you disagree? Which would give me the opportunity to ask the important question, "why do people misuse plurals like "data" and "agenda"? Then we could have some people tell us that Greek doesn't matter and we should live in the modern age. Then somebody could tell us that "data" and "agenda" are Latin words, and the previous people were just wrong and should be locked up. Then somebody else could tell us that the Government has no right to interfere with our grammatical constructions, and somebody else could blame the asylum seekers / Tory party / social workers / pedants / Poles / Polish asylum seekers / LGBT rights lobby. That should while away an hour.

It's just coming up to 6.50, and I remember that I'm supposed to be preaching a sermon on Nicky Campbell's birthday. I like to think he could have been anything that he wanted to be - do you remember that song, Hnaef? What was that in? Bugsy Malone, wasn't it? Scott Baio and Jodie Foster. A fine film. I walked down to see it in our Scottish cinema - tartan seats, and a tanner from Ma Campbell to buy some pop-corn. At 9 o'clock, we'll be asking the important question - "Whatever happened to affectionate names for coins?" We'll have a numismatist who, let's face it, will be unlikely to have a proper job to go to, a Professor of Comparitive Neo-Linguistics from the University of Hertfordshire, and David Haye.

Not Gloating at a Death

I was not a great fan of Margaret Thatcher. I never voted for her. I thought some of the things she did were just too divisive. But I can see two sides to most arguments - a great weakness, I know. And I wonder - without Thatch, would today's Britain be much different? We would still have shed our old manufacturing industries - the world would still have globalised. Coal would still have been inefficient to extract - and the Left would today be arguing it causes global warming. She was no more unpleasant than others on the stage of the 80s - than Ken Livingstone, or Arthur Scargill. And she exuded competence - in a way that her main opponents across the Commons, Foot and Kinnock, never did.

But some hated her, and I can understand that. Personally I hope that, now she's gone, we may get some more news on the Hillsborough disaster - maybe stuff that's been kept quiet until she's no longer around.

Now, a lot of the Social Media, and at least one newspaper, have been gloating in her death. And I think that's wrong. A death - whoever's death - is a solemn moment, a transition from this tangible world to an uncertain future. To gloat at anyone's death is a terrible thing. To be relieved at a death is maybe another, where the one dying is currently responsible for a bad state of affairs, which may now become better if we're really lucky. But to me that's relief, not gladness. Nobody gains if an old woman dies.

And if Christians gloat in a death, we're really losing it. Death is a terribly serious business for Christians. It is, after all, the thing Jesus died dealing with. Death is the gateway to two possible final destinations. If the departed one is heading - as it were - down, then that might be God's righteous judgement, but we would be wrong to cheer that. If they are heading upwards, then if we make that journey ourselves later we're gonna look right idiots if the one we laughed  about is in the arrivals lounge, as part of our own reception party. Especially if she then forgives us for our gloating.

As my old mum would say, if you can't say something nice, don't say anything,

"Part of the Plan" - for Lady Day

This wasn't really part of my plan.

My plan was straightforward enough. A family wedding. Enough wine to go round. Plenty of going around, looking quietly happy.

Some kids. Ten, maybe? Maybe half to survive, though some might die young. I'm not saying it's without darkness, this plan, but it's the regular plan. Everybody else has it.

A quiet life - as long as some fool didn't go stirring the Romans up again.

Not an easy life.  But a decent man - Joseph's a decent man - he can help me throught the ups and downs as best he can. That was part of the plan - not for my way to be smooth, but to have someone help me through it.

But this wasn't really part of my plan.
This really wasn't part of my plan.
Was this really my part in the plan?

Lady Day Programme

Hi-viz today is blue.

8am - Reading of the Annunciation

10am - Hiring Fair

Noon - Golbert will give a presentation proving his inability to distinguish between "Virgin birth" and "Immaculate Conception"

2pm - Talk - "Diana, Artemis, Brigid, Hecate, Mary - claiming pagan precedents for Christian beliefs, regardless of the evidence"

4pm - Rosaries

6pm - The difference between Ascension and Assumption - Margot will share her internet-gathered musings.

8pm - Dinner

Midnight - Flits.

Things you don't want to hear when the Pastor's away after Easter

"Jenni's had this sermon on "the Family Life of the Early Assyrians" waiting since 1984, and this is her chance...

"Reverend Brown had the only key. And he's gone to Spring Harvest. So we'll be singing lots of action songs, to stave off hypothermia."

"Normally at this stage we'd be taking the offering, but this week - it's time to bring on the goat..."

"It's time to share the peace. This week, Rev Janet's not around to stop us, and I'm desperate for some human contact, so I've got this new idea..."

"'ello, my name's Jim. I'm from t' village down t'road. And this week I'll be sharing my revolutionary views on the Doctrine of the Trinity. I read a book by Don Cupitt once, so you're in safe hands."

"Confession is always so general. I thought it would be better to be more specific. Now, then - adultery. Either somebody owns up to it, or we're all staying here till they do."

"Today's worship is being transferred to a Bus Replacement Service."

"I've always thought Hymns for Today's Church was a bit traddy. So this week, it's The Sydney Carter Experience"

The Virgin Birth "A biological impossibility"

Steve Jones is clearly needing to upset some fundamentalists to get some publicity.

According to his new book,

"Modern science, he says, shows that we cannot all be descended from a single couple, that the plagues which were supposedly supernatural punishments were probably contagious diseases, and that the virgin birth is a biological impossibility."

Reading from left to right, I guess my responses would be:

"we cannot all be descended from a single couple" - well, that's defined "Adam" and "Eve" in very specific ways - as the single original human sources of  Y-chromosomes and (I presume - it's not spelled out in the article) Mitochondrial DNA. Which is odd. Because I would define "Adam" and "Eve" as "the mythological actors in a mythological story about how the natural human tendency is to foul things up". Still, to each their own.

"that the plagues which were supposedly supernatural punishments were probably contagious diseases" - well, duh. You mean, like plagues?

"the virgin birth is a biological impossibility" - the thing is, I reckon St Luke knew that as well. You see, if the virgin birth were a biological possibility - if pregnant virgins were wandering the Middle East 2,000 years ago, perhaps forming "pregnant virgin" clubs, and organising virginally-conceived baby showers - I reckon this might have been mentioned in the Biblical record. There would have been no need for Joseph to work out how to put away Mary quietly, as virgin births were not a biological impossibility and no shame would be involved in him discovering his betrothed was with child. If virgins were going round left, right and centre getting pregnant, this would not have been news.

You can say what you like about the virgin birth. You can believe it happened; you can believe that in fact the Incarnation itself is not dependent upon it; you can believe it was all made up; you can believe it is the way that the Evangelists (well, two of them) stress the importance of Jesus' birth. But what we do all agree - atheists, liberals, fundamentalists, and all in between - is that the virgin birth is a biological impossibility. That's why it's a miracle.

These must be tough times for Steve Jones. There are sexier atheists on the block. And he's a snail specialist, not a cosmologist or particle physicist. And most of the other loud atheists are comedians, who at least have a certain charisma and are funny. But there is one line in the article that I thoroughly approve of.

"Jones said he was resigned to the idea that his latest book might stir controversy, but added: "I don't mind if people burn my books as long as they buy them first.""

Good lad! That's what it's all about.


[Late edit - if you're locked out of the paywall, I apologise. I'm guessing you get a couple of views before they try to charge you.]

Liturgy of Sending-out of Preachers on a Cold Morning

Archdruid: Dearly-beloved, inasmuch as we have offered to supply preachers to our friends: the La Tene Folk of Luton; the Corded Ware Folk of Caddington and the Windmill Hill Folk of Westoning: so we are gathered in this cold car park, to commend unto them these our replacement preachers.

For we know that the leaders of our sister Communities are having the week off after Easter, and their congregations are like lost sheep without a shepherd, needing liturgy and instruction.

And so I ask our Guest Speakers to come forward.

Burton, Hnaef and Charlii step forward.

Archdruid: Guest speakers - will you go unto the scattered flocks of Bedfordshire, bringing words of sustenance and assurance?

Guest Preachers: If we can, we will.

Archdruid: Will you bind up the wounded and lift up the downcast?

Guest Preachers: If we get the chance, yes.

Archdruid: Will you preach your own random and exciting take on a much-loved passage of Scripture, ensuring the congregation decide you are never, ever, coming back?

Guest Preachers: We'll give it a go.

Archdruid: Will you, getting carried away with a false sense of self-importance, inventa completely spurious persona for yourself?

Guest Preachers: Probably.

Archdruid: Will you be travelling by car, or your own personal hobby horse?

Guest Preachers: Definitely the latter.

Archdruid: Then, in the grip of self delusion and the power of sudden independence, go forth to spread the confusing news and project a false self-image.

Guest Preachers: Let's go kick some butt.

The Fairytale of Theological Training

It was the Summer Term, in Vicar Factory
A leaver said to me, "won't see another one"
And then we sang a song,
"The Lord of Sea and Sky"
made it through Evensong
then had a little cry.

Kenosis does my head in, as philosophy
I'd rather specialise in Queer Theology
And now my faith is sure
In Jurgen Moltmann
Though Bruegemann's my man
for post-modernity.

[Mandolin Break]

Got a tome big as Rome, I've got books by de Rad
But enculturation just makes me feel bad
And through thinking eschatologically
I thought that the Rapture was waiting for me.

The chapel choir was singing "Will you come and follow me?"
And we shared our doubts over a cup of tea.

"You're a Liberal, Socinian,
Sold-out to modernism
Sitting there, you're so wrong, reading books by Jack Spong."
"You Tractarian rat, you just like gin and tat
And from me you won't hear once we get out of here."

The chapel choir was singing "Will you come and follow me?"
And we shared our doubts over a cup of tea.

Why do we waste our time on this theology
When we're ordained it won't help on the church committee.
Are we so sure we need to seek eternal truth?
We should be learning how to fix boilers and patch the roof.

The chapel choir was singing "Will you come and follow me?"
And we shared our doubts over a cup of tea.

---

Disclaimer: 

No ordinands were harmed in the making of this pastiche. Theological training is actually more worthwhile and fun than depicted here. But a song about being worthy and having a vision for the future wouldn't be very funny.

Mixed Motives in Worship Attendance

Interesting results from our "worship attendance" questionnaire.

54% of people said that they were either in agreement or strong agreement with the statement "I like it when the whining noise from the front stops." I'm hoping they mean the heating unit, and not the sermon, but I'm not sure.

23% said they thought using tea lights in worship was "cutting edge and creative". 19% said "dull and pointless". 15% said "dangerous". And the rest said "why can't we have proper candles?"

Asked the question "what is the main reason you are a member of the Beaker Folk?" a scary number answered "the biscuits". 9% are lovers of Woods Ware crockery, and only come because they "like drinking instant coffee out of a proper Beryl cup". 12% mentioned "friends", nobody came expecting "a firm line on penal substitution."

14% had only come in by mistake, thinking we were Newport Pagnell Services. As it happened, we took the questionnaire after Burton's "Spirit of 80s Gary Numan" session. Which meant that, given the sense of alienation, pointlessness and bleak nihilism Burton conjured up, they actually left still thinking they were at Newport Pagnell.

25% said the songs were "too unfamiliar". 25% said they were "too old". 25% said they were "too fast" and 25% said they were "too slow". This was a multi-tick option, of course. So 14% said they were both "too old" and "too unfamiliar". 19% just didn't like songs.

76% said they thought there were too many women involved in leadership. However, when this headline figure is broken out, turns out they just meant me. I'm thinking we phrased this question badly.

45% wanted the Tea Light Stand moved. 55% wanted it left where it was.

Asked what the best part of the service was, 70% said "the Worship". Thus betraying woeful theological deficiencies which would be supported by the mere 5% who said  "the Preaching". The 25% who said "The end" were not considered statistically significant.

Asked to explain which type of theology they felt most affirmed by, 7% said "conservative evangelicalism". 19% embraced traditional Catholic theology, as long as they didn't have to do what the church or the Pope said. 44% liked trees, while 30% said they were in favour of extended analogies involving what it would be like if God were a squirrel.