AutumgirlsoupPlease note that we won't be having any Liturgical Dancing.
Soho Square
My Way Home
Fairytale of New York
In these shoes? I don't think so.
Monday, 9 October 2017
The Eve of St Kirsty
Hymns:
In these shoes? I don't think so.
In these shoes? I don't think so.
The LBC Phone-in for All Seasons
Welcome to LBC! The channel that used to employ Katie Hopkins until she turned out to be too ghastly even for us.
Now our lawyers tell us we can't be rude about black people, Muslims or gays. Even Nigel Farage has to stick to slurs and being slimy. But we really want to encourage hate against somebody. Obviously it can't be on grounds of religion, sexual orientation or race. But the good news is there's one group that's not protected in any way, and because they're not sitting in their cars in traffic all day they don't even listen to us!
So why not tune in to our phone-in this evening: "Cyclists. What a Shower of Gits."
Now our lawyers tell us we can't be rude about black people, Muslims or gays. Even Nigel Farage has to stick to slurs and being slimy. But we really want to encourage hate against somebody. Obviously it can't be on grounds of religion, sexual orientation or race. But the good news is there's one group that's not protected in any way, and because they're not sitting in their cars in traffic all day they don't even listen to us!
So why not tune in to our phone-in this evening: "Cyclists. What a Shower of Gits."
Saturday, 7 October 2017
From a Height (Matt 21)
Jesus said to the chief priests and the elders of the people: ‘Listen to another parable. There was a landowner who planted a vineyard, put a fence around it, dug a wine press in it, and built a watch-tower. Then he leased it to tenants and went to another country. When the harvest time had come, he sent his slaves to the tenants to collect his produce. But the tenants seized his slaves and beat one, killed another, and stoned another. Again he sent other slaves, more than the first; and they treated them in the same way. Finally he sent his son to them, saying, “They will respect my son.” But when the tenants saw the son, they said to themselves, “This is the heir; come, let us kill him and get his inheritance.” So they seized him, threw him out of the vineyard, and killed him. Now when the owner of the vineyard comes, what will he do to those tenants?’ They said to him, ‘He will put those wretches to a miserable death, and lease the vineyard to other tenants who will give him the produce at the harvest time.’
Jesus said to them, ‘Have you never read in the scriptures: “The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone; this was the Lord’s doing, and it is amazing in our eyes”? Therefore I tell you, the kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a people that produces the fruits of the kingdom. The one who falls on this stone will be broken to pieces; and it will crush anyone on whom it falls.’
When the chief priests and the Pharisees heard his parables, they realized that he was speaking about them. They wanted to arrest him, but they feared the crowds, because they regarded him as a prophet.
I know a church where this is the reading this weekend. And it's baptism week. This is a heck of a baptism text. This is not a happy reading. This is not really a good news reading. Given the typical baptism congregation, this is not even an appropriate reading for a baptism. Because the type of people normally turning up one-off for a baptism aren't fitting into any of the categories that are being dealt with here- not the chief priests, not the Pharisees - not even the "crowds" that they are so scared of.
And this appears to be a bygone fight. This is the sort of passage that would have meant a lot to the early Church, as it scrapped with a Jewish establishment as to who was right and who was wrong.
But maybe not.
What were the Pharisees and chief priests doing? They were maintaining their own power over against others. They were using their positions to get others to respect them - whether or not they deserved it.
And we still see that in the Church - people who think their being in the right place, doing the right job, saying the right words, wearing the right things are what is important.
But the "crowds" following Jesus - they weren't interested in position or power or their rights. They'd not had rights in the first place. They knew there was something wrong in their lives - they were ill, or their families were ill, or they just needed loving or they were struggling with the concept of this thing called "sin" which meant they felt so far from God yet all the normal rituals and readings - or the pagan gods, if they were Gentiles - weren't able to bring them closer.
And this man appeared to have something else. He taught with an authority that seemed to come from God. He backed up his claims with wonders. He didn't care whether he was dealing with men, women, children - he'd even deal with Gentiles. He preached an acceptance they'd never experienced, a direct knowledge of God they'd not heard of - and they just wanted to know more about it. So they followed him.
And the Pharisees and chief priests saw him as a threat. They could see what everyone knowing God - unmediated, without the need for ritual priests - would mean. Hadn't they spent two thousand years doing their best to shut the prophets up? When the prophets kept demanding justice, hadn't they kept pointing people to order, to ritual, to good behaviour?
And here he was - another prophet - and in that parable claiming to be so much more than one messenger from God. He was claiming to be God's son. No wonder they were angry.
The "stone that the builders rejected," the psalmist cried, "has become the cornerstone." The builders - the people who laboured in Israel - Jesus identifies with the establishment. The stone - with himself. He's telling them - you will lose your positions, you will lose your rights. The Temple - the place from the which the priests gained their rights - would be lost. The Pharisees would regroup, would remake the Jewish people and faith in exile - would be the builders of the faithful Jews of today. But they'd never rule the roost again like they did, there, in Judah.
The stone, Jesus says, will crush them if it falls on them from a height. That height was a cross. In trying to protect their power, they would lose it. In 40 years, the powers of priests was broken - the Pharisees scattered, as what they had worked to preserve was destroyed by the Roman Empire.
The things they harvested, the things they kept for themselves - respect, offerings, earthly power - they should have given to God. The thing they should have hung onto - the true rock - they rejected. Jesus says to the Pharisees, to the Priests, to the crowds - and to us - what is important? Our temporary powers, our rights, our rules, our personal authority? All these things that will pass? Or the life of God, given from the Son, poured out by the Spirit, which will last forever?
No contest, is it?
Friday, 6 October 2017
The Ghosts of St James, Husborne Crawley
A church in Herefordshire is trying out glamping champing - a new idea where you can stay in abandoned churches overnight, in utter comfort with a wood burning stove and a loo.
Now St James's Husborne Crawley (the parish church of St Mary Mag's for reasons I can't even face) is not quite redundant. Albeit its "A Church Near You" page focuses heavily on architecture and doesn't waste its time on minor details like whether they have any services.
But it ain't exactly overburdened with ecclesiastical life. Which might make the dedicated champer from, as it may be, London or Luton, think it's a good place to stay.
But I'd be careful. There's a lot of ghosts in Husborne Crawley Church. And I'm pretty sure, should you stay the night, you'll encounter a couple.
Flattened Jake
Poor Flattened Jake. A parishioner during the Victorian period who told them they'd make changes to the structure "over my dead body". And was accidentally hit with a box pew.
Wally the Wallaby
When the Revd Stephen Trott killed a wallaby on the M1 at J13 in 2005, he thought he'd hit a "large white" kangaroo. Our suspicion is that he was confused by the appearance of the demised marsupial's ghost, as Wally the Wallaby hops around the church yard in the dusk of summer evenings, before heading across the fields to the motorway to re-create his sad end.
Mary Driscoll
Died of boredom during a two-hour sermon in 1694. Mary's spirit sleeps on the back pew, waking every ten minutes through the night to cry out, "Is he still going?"
William Slingsby
The minister during whose sermon Mary died. After 323 years, he has reached point number 47,983 although he has had to start repeating words starting with "R" in his sermon point headings.
Nobody remembers her real name. She gave her entire life to sorting jumble for endless jumble sales. In death, apparently she just couldn't leave it alone. On quiet nights of a full moon, Jane can be seen at the back of the nave, sorting through piles of second-hand underpants. It's not a great way to spend eternity.
The Duelling Curates
Now St James's Husborne Crawley (the parish church of St Mary Mag's for reasons I can't even face) is not quite redundant. Albeit its "A Church Near You" page focuses heavily on architecture and doesn't waste its time on minor details like whether they have any services.
But it ain't exactly overburdened with ecclesiastical life. Which might make the dedicated champer from, as it may be, London or Luton, think it's a good place to stay.
But I'd be careful. There's a lot of ghosts in Husborne Crawley Church. And I'm pretty sure, should you stay the night, you'll encounter a couple.
Flattened Jake
Poor Flattened Jake. A parishioner during the Victorian period who told them they'd make changes to the structure "over my dead body". And was accidentally hit with a box pew.
Wally the Wallaby
When the Revd Stephen Trott killed a wallaby on the M1 at J13 in 2005, he thought he'd hit a "large white" kangaroo. Our suspicion is that he was confused by the appearance of the demised marsupial's ghost, as Wally the Wallaby hops around the church yard in the dusk of summer evenings, before heading across the fields to the motorway to re-create his sad end.
Mary Driscoll
Died of boredom during a two-hour sermon in 1694. Mary's spirit sleeps on the back pew, waking every ten minutes through the night to cry out, "Is he still going?"
William Slingsby
The minister during whose sermon Mary died. After 323 years, he has reached point number 47,983 although he has had to start repeating words starting with "R" in his sermon point headings.
Old Shuck, the Black Dog
Notorious denizen of Bedfordshire lanes. Don't shout at it. Don't look at it. Do not, under any circumstances, offer it a biscuit.
Raine Later
In 1927, said she wasn't leaving the church book stall until somebody bought something.
She's still waiting.
Gabriel Elm
In protest at the old string quire being replaced with an organist in 1894, chained himself to the organ. Those early electric organs weren't as safe as later models. If you hear a hiss and a spooky smell of singeing hair in the wee small hours, that will be old Gab.
Jumbley Jane
The Phantom PCC
In 1936, an entire PCC died of exhaustion three days into an argument about what colour to paint the gate in the church hatch. They're still going, every 3rd Monday at 8pm. We're still waiting to find out what colour the gate's going to be.
 |
| Still awaiting a lick of paint |
During the Oxford Movement revival, two curates argued over the precise distance they should place the candles from the edge of the altar. The argument was resolved with a duel in the churchyard. Being upper class types, after loosing 30 or 40 bullets at each other they had hit nothing apart from a few passing peasants. At which point the villagers got bored and clubbed them both to death. They continue their deadly encounter, firing wildly across the churchyard, on the Sunday after Michaelmas every year at 10pm.
A Bad Morning for the Jehovah's Witnesses
They don't come round here much, the Jehovah's Witnesses. But when they do they suffer.
Really bad for them today. Bearing in mind that the Community is made up of many buildings, with many doors, they tend to meet a fair number of Beaker Folk as they try to bring whatever they believe passes for good news.
So today they made the mistake of asking if we wanted any of their material. Which I responded to by offering to sell them "Writes of the Church" or "The Beaker Common Prayer." Outflanked by this particular piece of cunning, they backed away. And went to the next door along.
Where Burton was just coming out from a few hours of light bean-counting. When your heart is full of the details of the mis-translation of John Chapter 1 that makes Arianism possible, the last thing you need is a bloke with a degree in train-spotting and an obsession about double entry book-keeping. Apparently, in the event of the End of the World, you will still be able to value your company as a going concern. As long as the End of the World segues neatly into the new one, and your premises and staff have not been consumed in the sulfurous pit.
Next door along is the external door to Charlii and Keith's quarters. Young Keith was busy with house work so Charlii answered the door with Celestine.
So the poor JWs spent ten minutes having explained to them why "Jehovah" is not a valid representation of the Tetragrammaton, formed as it is from the consonants of one Hebrew word and the vowels from another. She's worryingly bright for a toddler, is Celestine.
So calling it a day, they wandered back off down the drive, only to meet Drayton Parslow coming out of the gate of his manse. They asked him whether he had ever thought about whether the latest lot of disasters might herald the end of the world. And he told them the date, the time, the astronomical alignments that would precede it, and his more detailed reflections on what it would feel like to be raptured.
As I say, they don't come round very often. I can see why.
Really bad for them today. Bearing in mind that the Community is made up of many buildings, with many doors, they tend to meet a fair number of Beaker Folk as they try to bring whatever they believe passes for good news.
So today they made the mistake of asking if we wanted any of their material. Which I responded to by offering to sell them "Writes of the Church" or "The Beaker Common Prayer." Outflanked by this particular piece of cunning, they backed away. And went to the next door along.
Where Burton was just coming out from a few hours of light bean-counting. When your heart is full of the details of the mis-translation of John Chapter 1 that makes Arianism possible, the last thing you need is a bloke with a degree in train-spotting and an obsession about double entry book-keeping. Apparently, in the event of the End of the World, you will still be able to value your company as a going concern. As long as the End of the World segues neatly into the new one, and your premises and staff have not been consumed in the sulfurous pit.
Next door along is the external door to Charlii and Keith's quarters. Young Keith was busy with house work so Charlii answered the door with Celestine.
So the poor JWs spent ten minutes having explained to them why "Jehovah" is not a valid representation of the Tetragrammaton, formed as it is from the consonants of one Hebrew word and the vowels from another. She's worryingly bright for a toddler, is Celestine.
So calling it a day, they wandered back off down the drive, only to meet Drayton Parslow coming out of the gate of his manse. They asked him whether he had ever thought about whether the latest lot of disasters might herald the end of the world. And he told them the date, the time, the astronomical alignments that would precede it, and his more detailed reflections on what it would feel like to be raptured.
As I say, they don't come round very often. I can see why.
Book Plug
The Beaker Folk have never carried 3rd-party advertising. Partly because it would spoil the clean looks of the blog. Partly because I never really believed it would bring any money in.
The "Writes of the Church" blog, on the other hand, does carry some limited advertising. That's because it's Wordpress and they don't have pots of money like Google so they have to make the most of it by getting some dosh in. So far it's not suffered from any of those "Milton Keynes Woman Loses 50 years by this one quick life hack that has Northampton dermatologists livid" type of stuff, so we live with it and it's free.
But on the other hand, we have got a book out. And lots of you are on mobiles so you don't see the discreet ad for "Writes of the Church" on the sidebar of the desktop version of this blog.
And it is a rather good book, I feel...
So occasional posts on this blog are going to have the experimental advert below for a while. I hope it's discreet. I know it's attractive, because Dave Walker drew it.
Can you do us a favour though? If it looks rubbish on your mobile device, just let me know? Ta.
The "Writes of the Church" blog, on the other hand, does carry some limited advertising. That's because it's Wordpress and they don't have pots of money like Google so they have to make the most of it by getting some dosh in. So far it's not suffered from any of those "Milton Keynes Woman Loses 50 years by this one quick life hack that has Northampton dermatologists livid" type of stuff, so we live with it and it's free.
But on the other hand, we have got a book out. And lots of you are on mobiles so you don't see the discreet ad for "Writes of the Church" on the sidebar of the desktop version of this blog.
And it is a rather good book, I feel...
So occasional posts on this blog are going to have the experimental advert below for a while. I hope it's discreet. I know it's attractive, because Dave Walker drew it.
Can you do us a favour though? If it looks rubbish on your mobile device, just let me know? Ta.
Thursday, 5 October 2017
Don't Cast a Doubt Till May's Out
Just seen the video of my sermon yesterday at the Druids' Conference on Education.
Yeah, I know I said that the United Reformed Church is a front organisation for the KGB. And that Julian Assange is actually an avatar of Gary Numan. Neither of which is true. Nor is Husborne Crawley overrun by separatist mice with Boris Johnson faces.
But I'd got a bit of a cold. So I'd taken Vics Vapour Rub, Fisherman's Friends, Lemsip, Victory Vs and quite a lot of whisky. Which meant I stayed on track like Donald Trump at a rally. But at least I didn't cough. On the contrary - my vocal cords were that relaxed I sounded like a bass who's been on testosterone.
Really unfortunate, the letters falling off the backdrop as well. It was supposed to say "Upskilling the Masses." Which I didn't think was great. But it was definitely better than "Up killing the asses."
Tuesday, 3 October 2017
Street Parsons vs Street Secularists
Bit of a barney on the streets - and I use the plural loosely - of Husborne Crawley last Saturday night.
The "Street Parsons" from the Beaker Folk have been wandering around with lollipops and flip flops looking for people to help since the start of summer. But they have a Christians-only rule. The Beaker Secularists got grumpy. So the Street Secularists were founded to wander around in hi vis on a strictly non-religious basis.
Come Saturday evening there were 21 assorted helpers wandering up and down School Lane. They negotiated an agreement whereby the Parsons would walk on the left hand side of the pavement while the Secularists would patrol the right. But it all broke down after someone crossed the road. Nobody had agreed the diplomatic status of Crow Lane, and a fracas broke out.
Thankfully the one and alone reveller walking home that evening stopped and negotiated a ceasefire. A couple of people had some nasty flip-flop shaped bruises. But other than that, nothing too serious.
Next week, we're gonna send the Street Parsons to the pub and let Bruce, the bloke who sorted it out, hand out the flip flops. It's got to be less trouble.
The "Street Parsons" from the Beaker Folk have been wandering around with lollipops and flip flops looking for people to help since the start of summer. But they have a Christians-only rule. The Beaker Secularists got grumpy. So the Street Secularists were founded to wander around in hi vis on a strictly non-religious basis.
Come Saturday evening there were 21 assorted helpers wandering up and down School Lane. They negotiated an agreement whereby the Parsons would walk on the left hand side of the pavement while the Secularists would patrol the right. But it all broke down after someone crossed the road. Nobody had agreed the diplomatic status of Crow Lane, and a fracas broke out.
Thankfully the one and alone reveller walking home that evening stopped and negotiated a ceasefire. A couple of people had some nasty flip-flop shaped bruises. But other than that, nothing too serious.
Next week, we're gonna send the Street Parsons to the pub and let Bruce, the bloke who sorted it out, hand out the flip flops. It's got to be less trouble.
Monday, 2 October 2017
Thoughts and Prayers "Fail to Stop Death"
Once again, it turns out that "thoughts and prayers" do not stop people from shooting guns at other people.
Thoughts and prayers are very comforting. Yet guns keep killing people.
But for God's sake do something about the Guns.
More than 50 people have died due to a man with a load of guns. All the thoughts and prayers from the previous hundreds of mass shootings failed to stop the man getting a load of guns, or the guns from firing, or the people who were shot being injured and dying.
Thoughts and prayers are very comforting. Yet guns keep killing people.
Keep it up with the thoughts and prayers, America.
But for God's sake do something about the Guns.
Sunday, 1 October 2017
"Our Town Was Better in the Past" Facebook Page
I'm pleased to announce we're going to create a new Facebook page - "Our Town was Better in the Past".
It will save all the admin of the plethora of Facebook pages dedicated to how medium-sized market towns looked in the past.
The page will have special features:
"Before the Londoners got here"
"When there was still a woollen mill"
"Before we had to build estates to house everyone"
"When we still spoke in a strange dialect and burnt the man from Radio Rentals as a witch."
Every picture of an old building will receive 1,000 responses of "Wasn't the town lovely then, when we still skinned monkeys for a living."
Stick a picture of the old hospital up, and everyone will reminisce about how the TB patients used to be wheeled out midwinter to enjoy the snow.
Every picture of an estate being built will be met with "that was when the Overspill arrived."
Every mention of the ring road will attract a host of hostile comments about travellers.
So please "Like" our page, "Our Town was Better in the Past."
Because apparently they all were.
It will save all the admin of the plethora of Facebook pages dedicated to how medium-sized market towns looked in the past.
 |
| "A cracking pint of Whitbread Trophy" |
The page will have special features:
"Before the Londoners got here"
"When there was still a woollen mill"
"Before we had to build estates to house everyone"
"When we still spoke in a strange dialect and burnt the man from Radio Rentals as a witch."
 |
| "Every apprentice had his underparts greased on his first day. Made a man of them." |
Every picture of an old building will receive 1,000 responses of "Wasn't the town lovely then, when we still skinned monkeys for a living."
Stick a picture of the old hospital up, and everyone will reminisce about how the TB patients used to be wheeled out midwinter to enjoy the snow.
Every picture of an estate being built will be met with "that was when the Overspill arrived."
Every mention of the ring road will attract a host of hostile comments about travellers.
So please "Like" our page, "Our Town was Better in the Past."
Because apparently they all were.
Much Ado in the Trim Valley
Two items in the Trim Valley today.
The weekly notices and the monthly letters page.
And check out the book! It's funny.
The weekly notices and the monthly letters page.
And check out the book! It's funny.
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