In an environmentally-minded community such as ourselves, the announcement that Toyota are recalling Priuses due to a braking fault is bound to have an impact. Indeed, we currently have four Prius drivers among our Folk.
Anyway, ever safety-conscious we’ve had them all checked first thing this morning, and I can confirm the tests were positive.
They’re all smug.
Monday, 8 February 2010
Sunday, 7 February 2010
Let's face the Music and Liturgical Dance (III)
So Line Dancing is hereby banned as well.
You can all put those hats back now.
Image: http://www.fotosearch.com/clip-art/line-dancing.html
Saturday, 6 February 2010
The History of the Obscure Primitive Methodists
The Beds County Council archives (make the most of their website - the council has been abolished) and Genuki mention the Primitive Methodist congregation, which existed from 1800 to c. 1924. But the "Prims" were never primitive enough for the people of Husborne Crawley. I am blessed in possessing the archives of the "Obscure Primitives", and they refer to the day in 1860 when old Jabez Butning, after a breakfast of mouldy rye, was blessed with a vision. In it, he saw the words "My Grace is Sufficient" in crop-marks on Wicca Leys, and understood from it that he was to found a new church which rejected all modern comforts and trust in Grace alone. Bearing in mind that these were Victorian "modern comforts", he set up his new congregation in a cow-shed in the northern half of the village.
For a few years, the congregation thrived and grew. These were the days when Evangelicalism was strong in the land, and a fellowship living in such extreme Christian poverty was bound to make converts. But, as so often, schism was never far away. The inevitable break-down occurred through a radical disagreement over - as is so often the way - Church music. The traditional accompaniment for the Obscure Primitive Methodists was the kazoo. But, on a disputed reading of 2 John, some members of the congregation came to believe that the kazoo was "the harmonica of the Dark one". Bloody proof-texting waged for weeks, but eventually it became clear that the situation could only be resolved by the two groups going their separate ways.
Accordingly, the Obscure Primitive Methodists (Lord Rockingham's Connexion) was formed, and built itself an even draughtier chapel - in red brick, but with large holes in the walls and ceiling - in the south of the village - in what was once "Crawley" as opposed to the northern, "Husborne", part of the village.
The next few decades were a grim time of internecine warfare. Members of each chapel knew that, if the Minister did not agree with them on any point of practice or doctrine, they could always walk out and go down the road. And among a bunch as fractious as these - and Bedfordshire folk are famous for their stubbornness - many people could change congregation on a weekly basis. Indeed, on one occasion the ministers discovered that their entire congregations had swapped allegiance during the week, and moved en masse to the other church. Then one Sunday both the ministers seceded to each other's church, which was a real shock to those of their flocks who had defected during that week.
Numbers decreased sharply in the 1930s. So the church stewards and one remaining minister got together and agreed that it was both a Christian and a prudent idea for the churches to re-unite - "that they may be one". Accordingly in 1933, the United Obscure Primitive Methodists were founded. There was great celebration that Sunday, at the newly-renamed Unity Chapel.
And also at the newly-formed Free Obscure Primitive Methodists. They had founded a new connexion. They refused to join the United chapel, on the grounds that brickwork was forbidden in Exodus unless made with mud without straw.
And also there was a celebration at the Extremely Primitive Methodists, which my Granddad Orville founded in a tin shed on the estate. The Extremely Primitives objected to the green "Beryl" cups and saucers that the Uniteds used for coffee mornings. The Extremely Prims claimed that only the light-blue version was genuinely scriptural. And there were rumours that the Free Obscures used the cursed and heretical yellow type.
Of course, it all came to an end as the congregations dwindled and died out. By the time my parents were taking me to the new Re-re-united Extremely Obscure Primitive Methodists in the early 70s, there was only the one congregation left. Due to their rejection of modern technology - which included any artificial heating except Fisherman's Friends - they mostly froze to death on a cold January Sunday in 1979. Well, it was a particularly long sermon. Then when Mummy and Daddy had that accident with the hay baler there was only me left. Which, given that the Obscure Primitive Methodists strictly limited women's ministry to tea-making and cleaning, meant that it was all over.
Due to their shoddy building methods, nothing now remains, either in Husborne or Crawley, of those many congregations. But it is said that, of a summer's evening after the sun has set, if you walk down School Lane you may hear singing. Just an auditory trick - the rumbling of cars on M1? Or the echoes of hymns once sung, as the unquiet spirits of those dissenting dissenters dissent themselves from dissenting chapel to dissenting chapel?
Let's face the Music and Liturgical Dance (II)
And it's not the stupid outfits. Goodness knows, the Beaker People wear enough of those.
And it's not even that they've obviously all joined because it gives them an excuse to slip off for a few real ales with the lads. No, I can appreciate that one.
Although it is partly the way that they are mostly an example of the Victorians at their worst - re-imagining a bucolic past in the light of their own Father-knows-Best, cleaned-up, not-in-front-of-the-children view of the world.
But above all, it's the bells and hankies. They're what really get my goat. The bells and hankies.
So after this morning's "Rites of Not-Quite Spring" outside the Moot House, Liturgical Morris Dancing is hereby banned. And thanks to Hnaef, Burton and Young Keith for helping me throw the rocks.
Friday, 5 February 2010
Religious Intolerance
Ardwulf's in trouble. He got in a spot of bother in a nightclub and decked somebody.
He was most repentant in court, pleaded guilty and asked for six similar offences to be taken into account. But he still got 2 months. Then he asked for clemency on the grounds that he was religious and was tired out and emotional after a long pray. But when the judge heard he was a Beaker Person he gave him six months instead.
If we take nothing else from this, it is that our Hearts, Minds and Spirits policy isn't really working. To be honest, I didn't think putting Hnaef in charge of it was a great idea, and its nickname in the surrounding village, "The Inquisition", gives you a good idea why.
He was most repentant in court, pleaded guilty and asked for six similar offences to be taken into account. But he still got 2 months. Then he asked for clemency on the grounds that he was religious and was tired out and emotional after a long pray. But when the judge heard he was a Beaker Person he gave him six months instead.
If we take nothing else from this, it is that our Hearts, Minds and Spirits policy isn't really working. To be honest, I didn't think putting Hnaef in charge of it was a great idea, and its nickname in the surrounding village, "The Inquisition", gives you a good idea why.
Let's Face the Music and Liturgical Dance
Now there are those who swear that dancing is a carnal, unspiritual activity unsuitable for worship. There are those that go farther, and say it is an offence - that the uncontrolled jigglings of human bodies were never intended to be displayed at all, even in private, let alone in a setting of invocation and praise. There are some concerned that the presentation of a gyrating human form may generate feelings of lust most unsuitable in a holy setting. And there are others that remember that David danced with all his might before the Lord. Yet others say the human body is a temple, and dancing is most appropriate in a worship setting as we remember that we are both physical and spiritual and rejoice in our corporeal nature. But I worry about those.
Any way, everyone's feeling quite shocked by this morning's Liturgical Dance. Very racy indeed. That was a very tight leotard which seemed designed rather to accentuate than to conceal. The pink taffeta trimmings seemed out of place. And I don't think that the fluorescent pop socks are necessarily appropriate to a solemn ceremony like Pouring out of Beakers. And that make-up! Garish is not the word. Gold lip-stick and eye shadow? All in all more suited to a discorama than to the solemnities at hand.
Anyway, I've had a word and Marston says he won't do it again. And we're confiscating the leotard. Ugh.
Image from http://gospelgifs.com
Thursday, 4 February 2010
Worship Group Classification Index
Here in Husborne Crawley, we don't have too much trouble with the "Worship" or "Music" group*. Mostly because we set our sights very low. After all, when the group consists of an out-of-tune flute, a bodhran and a badly-played 4-string** banjo, there's a limit to how good it can get. Although, curiously, no limit to how bad it can be.
As with putting together the right character types - Visionary, Administrator, Tea-Maker etc - in a work group, it's important to know the people you're throwing together into a worship or music group and why. Are you aiming for Peter Paul and Mary, Hillsong, St John's Cambridge, or a Matt Redman tribute band?
But when you read the following, don't forget - they put the time in and do it all for nothing, except in the unlikely event you're a member of a Central London Mega-church. And if you're out there listening and moaning, it's a fair bet they're still far better than you'll ever be.
Here's a little guide.
The "Any key" guitarist (I) - will cheerfully play in any key, as long as she has a capo. Only actually knows 4 chords, and takes 4 bashes at any diminished chord as it's too much trouble to learn which is which ("but there's only 4 in reality")
The "Any key" guitarist (II) - self-taught genius with fingers of such great strength and dexterity that he can play a barre chord anywhere up the neck. Unfortunately this has made him lazy, so he's only learnt two chord shapes. 7ths, sus's, min6 - forget it. And as for diminished - he'll just play the major chord with the same name, so get used to those exquisite chord sequences breaking the hearts of the more musically-sensitive.
The Bodhran player - Lured by thoughts of Celtic scenery, the call of the Wild Goose and the taste of Guinness. Spends his whole time wondering why the band insists on playing Delirious stuff, when it doesn't go with a bodhran. It doesn't matter what they're playing, anyway, as he has no sense of rhythm.
The "Trendy Vicar" - normally balding and in his forties (rarely a woman, and if a woman even less frequently balding) - the Trendy Vicar will be playing Fender Stratocaster. Badly. And trying to adorn every song - even "Purify my heart" or "Potter's Hand" - with AC/DC or U2 riffs.
The Saxophonist - there's no song, and no part of any song, that can't be improved by the addition of an improvised sax solo. Apparently.
The Worship leader - if you think your service is too short, and your sermons not challenging enough, why not appoint a worship leader? Then you can have ten minutes of poorly-thought out theology and home-spun wisdom before every song.
The Drummer - the Drummer is a valuable and appropriate member of the band in the proper place. The proper place normally being a different building, from where he can be heard at a reasonable volume.
The Bassist - The only one who can communicate with the drummer***
The Converted Organist - of any age, and any gender, several or none. Will cheerfully join in but, due to years of having undisputed control of the music, will play things at their own pace. "There's a place where the streets shine" will be stretched into a funeral march, while "Kum By Yah" will be thrashed. If only.
The Thomas Hardy freak - constantly demands to sing 18th century carol music - even in June - and introduce a viol da gamba or serpent into the music group. Hates the Oxford Movement and everything they stood for - like dignified worship and choirs that sing in tune and do what they're told.
The Prodigy - Six years old, and able to muster a wide range of note between B# and C. But Mum's a force to be reckoned with on the Worship Committee, so little Torquil (or, as it may be, Abigael) is in the band. People have been known to strangle cats to cover up the noise. Not to be confused with the people that produced "Firestarter". They're far less scary.
The X-Factor - Vocalist whose dedication to singing with an American accent would mean she'd sing Greensleeves with one if that's what the group was playing. Can make any song, whether of touching spirituality, or aggressive and triumphant victory over evil, sound like it's in a West End musical.
* How do you define the difference between a "Worship" and a "Music" group? Our working premise is this - if they're involved in any way in an act of worship they must be a "Worship" group. A sub-set of these are actually musical. So a "Music" group, de facto, must be a better thing to have because they are always also a "Worship" group. Unless you've mis-booked and you've actually got Slipnot due to an administrative error.
** It's actually a 5-string banjo, but one string's broke and Young Keith can't work out how to get another string onto it.
*** Yeah, old joke...
As with putting together the right character types - Visionary, Administrator, Tea-Maker etc - in a work group, it's important to know the people you're throwing together into a worship or music group and why. Are you aiming for Peter Paul and Mary, Hillsong, St John's Cambridge, or a Matt Redman tribute band?
But when you read the following, don't forget - they put the time in and do it all for nothing, except in the unlikely event you're a member of a Central London Mega-church. And if you're out there listening and moaning, it's a fair bet they're still far better than you'll ever be.
Here's a little guide.
The "Any key" guitarist (I) - will cheerfully play in any key, as long as she has a capo. Only actually knows 4 chords, and takes 4 bashes at any diminished chord as it's too much trouble to learn which is which ("but there's only 4 in reality")
The "Any key" guitarist (II) - self-taught genius with fingers of such great strength and dexterity that he can play a barre chord anywhere up the neck. Unfortunately this has made him lazy, so he's only learnt two chord shapes. 7ths, sus's, min6 - forget it. And as for diminished - he'll just play the major chord with the same name, so get used to those exquisite chord sequences breaking the hearts of the more musically-sensitive.
The Bodhran player - Lured by thoughts of Celtic scenery, the call of the Wild Goose and the taste of Guinness. Spends his whole time wondering why the band insists on playing Delirious stuff, when it doesn't go with a bodhran. It doesn't matter what they're playing, anyway, as he has no sense of rhythm.
The "Trendy Vicar" - normally balding and in his forties (rarely a woman, and if a woman even less frequently balding) - the Trendy Vicar will be playing Fender Stratocaster. Badly. And trying to adorn every song - even "Purify my heart" or "Potter's Hand" - with AC/DC or U2 riffs.
The Saxophonist - there's no song, and no part of any song, that can't be improved by the addition of an improvised sax solo. Apparently.
The Worship leader - if you think your service is too short, and your sermons not challenging enough, why not appoint a worship leader? Then you can have ten minutes of poorly-thought out theology and home-spun wisdom before every song.
The Drummer - the Drummer is a valuable and appropriate member of the band in the proper place. The proper place normally being a different building, from where he can be heard at a reasonable volume.
The Bassist - The only one who can communicate with the drummer***
The Converted Organist - of any age, and any gender, several or none. Will cheerfully join in but, due to years of having undisputed control of the music, will play things at their own pace. "There's a place where the streets shine" will be stretched into a funeral march, while "Kum By Yah" will be thrashed. If only.
The Thomas Hardy freak - constantly demands to sing 18th century carol music - even in June - and introduce a viol da gamba or serpent into the music group. Hates the Oxford Movement and everything they stood for - like dignified worship and choirs that sing in tune and do what they're told.
The Prodigy - Six years old, and able to muster a wide range of note between B# and C. But Mum's a force to be reckoned with on the Worship Committee, so little Torquil (or, as it may be, Abigael) is in the band. People have been known to strangle cats to cover up the noise. Not to be confused with the people that produced "Firestarter". They're far less scary.
The X-Factor - Vocalist whose dedication to singing with an American accent would mean she'd sing Greensleeves with one if that's what the group was playing. Can make any song, whether of touching spirituality, or aggressive and triumphant victory over evil, sound like it's in a West End musical.
* How do you define the difference between a "Worship" and a "Music" group? Our working premise is this - if they're involved in any way in an act of worship they must be a "Worship" group. A sub-set of these are actually musical. So a "Music" group, de facto, must be a better thing to have because they are always also a "Worship" group. Unless you've mis-booked and you've actually got Slipnot due to an administrative error.
** It's actually a 5-string banjo, but one string's broke and Young Keith can't work out how to get another string onto it.
*** Yeah, old joke...
Fog is a blessing today
As a haze of liquid air descends on us on days like these, slightly warmer and slightly damper after the cold, it's easy to curse fog. Damp, dismal, obscuring sight-lines and important astronomical observances. Where is the Moon? Where are Mars and Saturn? Somewhere behind the haze. And the sun? What's that when it's at home?
And yet fog brings its blessings too. Softening outlines, blurring ugly buildings, sometimes gently lifting in the early morning sun to reveal new aspects of familiar objects.
In many respects, fog is a metaphor for the Beaker Life. Stumbling through a blurry landscape, trying to make sense of it all, occasionally getting flashes of inspiration, misting-up when overcome by the sheer emotionalness of it all... it's amazing, actually, how much like fog our lives can be.
Why not slow down - whether your fog is real or metaphorical today - slow down and consider where you are, where you're going, and whether that clear highway you thought you were on is actually a country lane leading down to an unguarded quay on a lake? See the beauty of the water droplets on a spider's web. And give a moment's thankfulness for fog.
And yet fog brings its blessings too. Softening outlines, blurring ugly buildings, sometimes gently lifting in the early morning sun to reveal new aspects of familiar objects.
In many respects, fog is a metaphor for the Beaker Life. Stumbling through a blurry landscape, trying to make sense of it all, occasionally getting flashes of inspiration, misting-up when overcome by the sheer emotionalness of it all... it's amazing, actually, how much like fog our lives can be.
Why not slow down - whether your fog is real or metaphorical today - slow down and consider where you are, where you're going, and whether that clear highway you thought you were on is actually a country lane leading down to an unguarded quay on a lake? See the beauty of the water droplets on a spider's web. And give a moment's thankfulness for fog.
Wednesday, 3 February 2010
If Jesus started his ministry today...
...he'd be in trouble with the EU for starters. That miraculous haul (or "draught", I believe, in the older versions) of fish. What was he thinking of?
"Excuse me: Mr Simon of Jonas, Zebedee and sons?"
"Yes, Mr Roman Empire Fisheries Inspector."
"Would you like to account for that miraculous haul of fish?"
"Well, it just happened."
"It just happened?"
"We just shoved our nets over, and there they all were."
"And those boats were weighed down far beyond the safe loading line. You're not taking Health and Safety very seriously at all, are you? I mean - where's your hi-viz?"
"Our what?"
"And are you aware that you've exceeded your quota? We've boatloads of Spanish fisherman lined up along the coast at Tyre just ready to hoover up these fish, as soon as they've worked out how to get into the Sea of Galilee."
"Quota? It's just what we caught."
"And you've caught the wrong species, as well. Sardines - yes, fine. But Barbels?"
"Look, they're just what swam into the net."
"You could've thrown some back. Why did you go out when you were supposed to be laid up, anyway?"
"Well, some bloke just told us we had to catch them."
"'Some bloke?' If 'some bloke' told you to jump out of the boat and walk across the lake, you'd do that as well, would you?"
"Well, now you come to mention it..."
[Cuts forward 35 years]
"Excuse me: Mr Simon of Jonas, Zebedee and sons?"
"Yes, Mr Roman Empire Fisheries Inspector."
"Would you like to account for that miraculous haul of fish?"
"Well, it just happened."
"It just happened?"
"We just shoved our nets over, and there they all were."
"And those boats were weighed down far beyond the safe loading line. You're not taking Health and Safety very seriously at all, are you? I mean - where's your hi-viz?"
"Our what?"
"And are you aware that you've exceeded your quota? We've boatloads of Spanish fisherman lined up along the coast at Tyre just ready to hoover up these fish, as soon as they've worked out how to get into the Sea of Galilee."
"Quota? It's just what we caught."
"And you've caught the wrong species, as well. Sardines - yes, fine. But Barbels?"
"Look, they're just what swam into the net."
"You could've thrown some back. Why did you go out when you were supposed to be laid up, anyway?"
"Well, some bloke just told us we had to catch them."
"'Some bloke?' If 'some bloke' told you to jump out of the boat and walk across the lake, you'd do that as well, would you?"
"Well, now you come to mention it..."
[Cuts forward 35 years]
"Excuse me: Mr Simon Peter of Peter, Paul and Disciples?"
"Yes, Mr Roman Empire New Religions Inspector."
"Would you like to account for that miraculous haul of people?"
"Well, it just happened."
"It just happened?"
"We just went round telling people that Jesus was the Living God, and there they all were."
"And those churches were over-full, way beyond the legal number of people for halls those sizes. You're not taking Health and Safety very seriously at all, are you? I mean - where's your hi-viz?"
"What do you think we are - Beaker People?"
"And are you aware that you've exceeded your quota? We've boatloads of evangelists for Mithraism lined up along the coast at Ostia just ready to hoover up these converts, as soon as they've worked out how to give them eternal life."
"Quota? It's just what we caught."
"And you've caught the wrong races as well. Jews - yes, fine. But Samaritans? Greeks? Romans?"
"Look, they're just what came into the church."
"You could've thrown some back."
"Well, Jesus just told us we had to catch them."
"Jesus? If Jesus told you to get yourself nailed to a cross, you'd do that as well, would you?"
"Well, now you come to mention it..."
(Luke 5)
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