Why is this Not News?

I dunno.  We had 57 people at yesterday's Nylon Night Shirt Nocturne service.

Not a thing on the Mainstream Media.  Anybody would think they're trying to keep nylon-based alt:liturgy services out of the news.

Service for the Last Game at White Hart Lane

Archdruid: The last game at White Hart Lane.

All: Man Utd's last game at White Hart Lane.

Archdruid: Rooney's last game at White Hart Lane.

All: Harry Kane's last goal at White Hart Lane.

Archdruid: The last football game last game at White Hart Lane.

All: Pochettino's last game at White Hart Lane.

Archdruid: Sky Sports' last game at White Hart Lane.

All: Gary Neville's last commentary from White Hart Lane.

Archdruid: Spurs' last home game at White Hart Lane.

All: The last game in North London at White Hart Lane.

Archdruid: The Bishop of Willesden's last game at White Hart Lane.

All: His last Twitter complaint from the last game at White Hart Lane.

Archdruid: The last kick off at White Hart Lane.

All: Lloris's last save at White Hart Lane.

Archdruid: The last throw in at White Hart Lane.

All: The last goal at White Hart Lane.

Archdruid: The last free kick at White Hart Lane.

All: The last corner kick at White Hart Lane..

Archdruid: The last final game of the season at White Hart Lane.

All: The last final whistle at White Hart Lane.

Archdruid: The final sulk from Mourinho at White Hart Lane.

Burton Dasset: What is White Hart Lane?

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(Inspired by the relentless reminders of Sky Sports)

1970s Week of Prayer

Reflecting the determination of both the Labour and Conservative Parties to return us to different aspects of the 1970s, we are celebrating a 70s Week of Prayer.

In our "exciting" 70s worship, we will sing exclusively from contemporary Christian music of the 1970s. The sermons will feature all the most contemporary theological themes - that God is dead, that the Bible was made up, that heaven, hell and judgement don't exist and that we should have a deep interest in the "true" historical Jesus never really existed.

Remarkably, the mixture of Sounds of Living Waters, Timothy Dudley-Smith and Sydney Carter that we will be using for our worship this week is exactly the same as that found when churches in 2017 decide they need to sing something "modern".

The "Punk Eucharist" on Sunday will be an attempt to attract the "Youth" which will utterly fail, as Hnaef, resplendent in a red hat and safety pins, tells everybody how hip he is. NB no spitting.

After each service, we will discover that the selection of Austin and Hillman cars in which people have driven to Church will not start, and hold an Act of Jump-Starts in the car park.

On Monday, our Liturgy of Power Cuts will include the lighting of candles and tipping of rubbish in the street.

Monday will also be the last day of our 70s Worship Theme Week.  That's right. It's a three day week.

Service for the First Day of Hayfever

Archdruid: Peace be... Atchoo!

All: And also Atchoo..

Hymn: Here Comes the Sun

Archdruid: Hay, hay whadya say?

All: Pollen blew your mind away.

Archdruid: Atchoo!

All: And Atchoo too.

Reading:

All flesh is like grass
But not all flesh likes grass.
Let righteousness flow like streams of tears
Flowing down the face of the Archdruid.
Let our love burn as hot
As the irritation in her eyes.
Let us be as pollen to the world
In principle a good thing, but irritating to everyone we encounter.

The Offering of Useless Folk Remedies

Archdruid: Local honey! Lovely. I'll put it on my toast. It's useless for hay fever obviously.

Richard Dawkins: Did someone mention honey?

All: Leave it, Richard. That's all in the past.

Archdruid: Atchoo!

All: And Atchoo too!

Hymn: All things blight and miserable, all pollen mean and small.

Blessing

Archdruid: Atchoo!

All: Bless you!

Apple Blossom and Rhubarb Service

What a wonderful Apple Blossom and Rhubarb service that was!  A celebration of all that is best about the Spring.

Albeit in the case of the rhubarb, I'm not convinced the service will have helped.  Bolted something chronic this year. 

Now we all know that rhubarb bolts when the plant's under stress. And Marston has suggested maybe it's suffering from the dry winter.  But I reckon - given its red colour - that it's actually thinking about the General Election. A plant that is happiest in the former industrial areas of Yorkshire? It clearly can't believe what Jeremy Corbyn is doing.

Somebody suggested dumping a load of manure on it. But I'm not convinced that Theresa May's approach to Brexit is going to help that much,

Consecration of the Druid of the Doily Shed

I see a heretical Anglican sect  - believing in Lay Presidency - has apparently ordained itself a bishop in Newcastle, despite the fact the person concerned has been a curate at an Anglican Church for about 30 years. I guess in the end he got fed up with running the youth group.

Had the same myself a few years ago. The Quivering Brethren decided they wanted a rep somewhere closer to the middle of the country, and appointed Yardley Gobion as the "Druid of the Doily Shed". Their belief being that old Yardley would thereby enable them to make inroads into the Beaker Folk, drawing the gentle people of Husborne Crawley into a religion that involved no pointy hats, no women Archdruids and a lot of quivering.

So he spent a while sat there among the doilies, issuing scary threats about the afterlife,  and occasionally quivering. But ultimately their choice of the Doily Shed as an operating base for the new Druid was flawed. What with it having a lock and everything. And me having the key.

If you were wondering, the current record for eating nothing but doilies until resigning a Druidship is 2 days. And he spent the next few days in isolation in the loo. Nobody has tried it since.

A Popular Alliance

Brothers and Sisters. It has become clear that, for too long, by being divided against each other, we have allowed the oppressive right-wing hegemony to rule.

There is only one way for us to defeat the Romans. And that is for us to unite in a Popular Alliance.

So we call upon the People's Front of Judea, the Judean People's Front, Judean Popular People's Front, the Essenes, the Campaign for Free Galilee and the Zealots to join in the common struggle.

Although we may have trouble with the Popular Front.

Splitter.

That Was the Church that Wasn't

Somewhat belatedly I have read Peter Hitchens' article on the good old C of E as he remembers it.

There used to be an old saying among folklorists. They said that people always used to say it was the previous generation that believed in fairies. Maybe in the same way people always think it was their childhood - or the last generation - when the Church of England was last truly the Church of England.

England's Dreaming

To some degree this is always a myth. Let's look at the history of the C of E since the Reformation. First up it got converted back to Catholicism - then back again .Then a certain amount of Prayer Book-based stability under Elizabeth and James I - then the Puritans threw all the organs out on the grounds that any kind of enjoyment was unbiblical. Many village churches then had "quires" or "bands" right up to the Oxford Movement. So in Thomas Hardy's own village of Stinsford the tradition of singing with an organ goes back no further than about 1840. About the same time that Hawker of Morwenstow invented the Harvest Festival.

By that time, the Industrial Revolution was underway. Many left the churches, headed into the big cities and took to lives of poverty, vice and not getting up on Sunday mornings. The figure for regular worshippers, at the height of the Victorian Church's power, was about 40% of the population - but a tiny fraction of that in the poor districts of London. It declined into the early 20th Century. And while the upper classes continued to provide their younger, less intelligent sons to be ministers, the upper classes themselves barely bothered to go to church otherwise.

So Peter Hitchens' long-lasting tradition - the good old C of E at prayer - really only began in the middle of the 19th Century. And really only lasted till the early decades of the 20th Century. The timeless beauty of the BCP and the KJV may go back 400 or so years - but the traditions built around them are bumpy, uneven and - for the most part - of terribly short duration. The good old C of E, like folk dance, children dancing round a maypole, arts n crafts and Imperialism, is a Victorian invention. We may not see its like again. But then we probably never really did.

Liturgy of Ed Winchester

Archdruid: Hi! I'm Ed Winchester!

Hnaef: No - I'm Ed Winchester!

Spartacus: No - I'm Ed Winchester!

Young Keith: I'm Ed Winchester! And so's my wife!

All: We're Ed Winchester!

Ed Winchester: So who am I?

The Archdruid's General Election Piety

If there's two things an election generates in the world of Social Media, it's snark and piety.

Snark we can accept as a given, I believe. So let's turn to piety - or possibly piousness. Never know the difference. People love their pious clichés. Mostly the people to the Left. The C of E may be the Tory Party at prayer, but if you're looking for a set of uplifting abstract concepts to give everybody unlimited benefits in an unspecified future, Socialism is a lot closer to a religion.

But the important thing about piety is - it gets retweets. Your little trite "This election, vote for the kind of party your puppy would" is gonna get more airplay than "I'm not convinced a commitment to leaving the Single Market will have long-term upside benefits on East Midlands job creation."

So my turn. What do I want to see?

I want a Britain that we can all unite behind. One where jobs fall from trees and there is a community centre on every street corner. A place where, given enough cynicism and hatred, even people who didn't go Cambridge can make a living as comedians.

A land where tax is low and benefits are high. Where schools produce open-minded astronauts to fill the endless demand for space jobs. Where only the politicians' jobs are replaced by robots.

I want a land where our borders are open to everybody - except terrorists and people coming to take our jobs. Where smoking is not just forbidden in public buildings, but smokers are openly persecuted. Where nobody ever commits crime - not because of fear of being caught, or overcrowded riot-ridden prisons, but because they just don't want to.

I want a land where, despite pulling out of Europe and refusing to pay our dues and acting like the English Channel is 4,000 miles wide, we are more prosperous than today, with the money to achieve social justice and world-leading businesses. Where we can change everything, yet go on as we are.

Sorry. Sorry. Dunno what happened there. Got carried away. That last paragraph is just wishful thinking.

May Morning

As I get older I wonder whether these old traditions are really worth it.

I mean, yeah. Dancing around in the dews of midnight to celebrate the mid-point between astronomical milestones. You can see the attraction. But once you get past 50 you start to wonder whether just turning in after "Line of Duty" might not be a better idea.

So I left it to Hnaef. He's a bit younger. And he's got a new Red Hat which he thinks gives him magical powers. So he supervised the ignition of the Wicker Person while I watched with a gin and tonic from the study windows.

Not such a bad casualty count this year - four minor burns and one person hit by an exploding potato.

Meanwhile in the Trim Valley, the letters to the Church Magazine are out again. And people frolicking in those parts want to watch out for the ubiquitous camera of Dr Ireland...