On with the motley

The best-known wearers of motley were jesters of harlequins and the patchwork costume became their standard style of stage dress. The first recorded use of 'on with the motley' is in Pagliacci, an opera by Ruggiero Leoncavallo, 1892. The text was translated into English in 1893 by F. E. Weatherly:

Thou art not a man, thou’rt but a jester!
On with the motley, and the paint, and the powder!
The people pay thee, and want their laugh, you know!
If Harlequin thy Columbine has stolen, laugh Punchinello!
The world will cry, "Bravo!"

Nowadays the phrase is used to mean "Let's continue", and so we do. One of the villages is holding a Coffee Morning, and so I shall traipse along to that, and then return home to start putting together my annual Tax Return.

Friday was a good day however. Two friends came down from Stoke-on-Trent and took me out to lunch at a nearby hostelry. Very nice to be on the receiving end for once.

Sunday I am celebrating but not preaching. Very occasionally I double-up with one of our Readers, and she is preaching for me at both morning Communions. So, no sermon to prepare this week, which has been a bonus.

I've also had a go at booking some holiday time in the diary. It's fine putting lines through the weeks, but I still have to find cover for the Sunday services, and that is not at all easy. Still, there's time to sort that out.

Wonderful April showers pelted us with hail through the afternoon, and I followed a rainbow all the way back from the Evening Office. That, and 3 episodes from the 2nd series of "Battlestar Galactica" as the evening's entertainment, and I retire quite relaxed.

The morning after

Having slept on it, I think what bugs me most about last night is that the person who raised the question whether or not this was trying to get them to agree to the homosexual agenda "by the back door" has so little belief in my integrity that they think I would try and sneak it past them in this way.

But then, the issue is not about my personal feelings - it's far greater than that. As I said to someone over our informal breakfast after this morning's mid-week Eucharist, if the Church of England does go down the path of rejecting difference and signs up for a Covenant that demands conformity in belief and practice, then I shall have to carefully consider if I can stay within it. I've sat on the fence over this issue for over 20 years, and it's starting to get uncomfortable.

Quite an appropriate day for such thoughts - the Lesser festival of William Law, the author of "A Serious Call to a Devout and Holy Life" and non-Juror.

Unity in Diversity

I took details of the Inclusive Church's campaign "Gift of Communion" to our Joint Benefice Council meeting this evening and asked if the parishes would like to support it. This is a document that states that all who agree with it are of the opinion that the Anglican expression of faith is best found in diversity rather than a single expression of belief and practice, with the idea that the document will be presented to the Bishops at the Lambeth Conference later this year, showing that many churches feel that the Communion is best expressed in loving acceptance of and working with those with whom we disagree. It is a statement that schism is not the way forward for the Communion, and nor is it being true to our historical nature.

I should have given more background, for the question was immediately asked, "What is this group, Inclusive Church?" A swift look at the group's web pages clearly states that it was set up following the Jeffrey John debacle, and that part of its aim is the full inclusion of all people in the life and ministry of the Anglican church irrespective of their sexual orientation. This is set out very clearly in their Declaration of Belief:

We affirm that the Church's mission, in obedience to Holy Scripture, is to proclaim the Gospel of Jesus Christ in every generation.

We acknowledge that this is Good News for people regardless of their sex, race or sexual orientation.

We believe that, in order to strengthen the Gospel's proclamation of justice to the world, and for the greater glory of God, the Church's own common life must be justly ordered.

To that end, we call on our Church to live out the promise of the Gospel; to celebrate the diverse gifts of all members of the body of Christ; and in the ordering of our common life to open the ministries of deacon, priest and bishop to those so called to serve by God, regardless of their sex, race or sexual orientation

The comment was made, and quite rightly so, that any agreement to this campaign should not be seen as assent to the inclusion of gays and lesbians in the ministry. I agreed that each PCC should discuss the issue rather than the Benefice Council making the decision for them.

The background to Inclusive Church's foundation is clearly going to antagonise some people, and make them very unwilling to agree to the Communion document. It will be seen as trying to get agreement to the homosexual lobby "via the back door". However, I don't read this campaign in those terms. The "Gift of Communion" statement is very clear in that it relates solely to unity in diversity as being the best way forward, without being biased one way or the other in the debate. Unfortunately, I don't think it will be seen that way.

I believe that the truth is the truth whoever speaks it. If I believe that the Anglican Communion is a body comprised of difference, that whoever says it, or whatever organisation speaks it, it remains the case.

I wonder if I'm being naive?

More ice and snow

Found another picture of Ben lawers on the web which shows how it was the day I climbed it back in the days when I was more fit and less fat! Slippery underfoot, but the view from the top was worth it.



But then the roads round here were somewhat icy last night, and this morning this was the evidence less than half a mile down the narrow road from the village. No idea yet as to the owner of the car, nor the reason for the accident, though the tyre tracks across the grass seem to indicate that they didn't manage the turn and just went straight off the edge. And the ditches round here are rather deep!

Picnic weather

Coming to the last few pages of Bill Bryson’s “Notes from a Small Island” last night, it was fun to read of his experience of sitting out in a snowstorm just as members of this scattered Benefice had done yesterday lunchtime at the Daffodil Day.
With two friends he was walking up to the 2,960 ft summit of Bow Fell, the sixth highest Lakeland peak, and the weather had turned increasingly wintry.

“We made it to the top without incident. I counted thirty-three people there ahead of us, huddled among the fog-whitened boulders with sandwiches, flasks and madly fluttering maps, and tried to imagine how I would explain this to a foreign onlooker – the idea of three dozen English people having a picnic on a mountain top in an ice storm – and realized there was no way you could explain it. We trudged over to a rock, where a couple kindly moved their rucksacks and shrank their picnic space to make room for us. We sat and delved among our brown bags in the piercing wind, cracking open hard-boiled eggs with numbed fingers, sipping warm pop, eating floppy cheese-and-pickle sandwiches, and staring into an impenetrable murk that we had spent three hours climbing through to get here, and I thought, I seriously thought: God, I love this country.”

I have had one similar experience when on January 2nd, in the mid-1970’s, some friends and I clambered our way up to the top of the 3982.89 ft Ben Lawers in the Scottish southern Highlands. It was snowing and blowing a gale, and after traversing a knife-edge saddleback with heart-stopping drops to either side, we got to the summit of the Munro and sheltered in the lee of the cairn.


It was there that I discovered that one item of food you do not take to the top of a mountain in winter is a Mars bar. The caramel had gone solid in the cold, and was virtually inedible. On the other had, the coconut in the Bounty bars we had were still soft and moist, and they were a very welcome boost of energy.

No problems like that yesterday. The two slices of quiche that I had – tomato and bacon, and mushroom – were delicious, and there was something primitive and comforting about sitting in shelter as the snow swirled around us, the cold flakes settling on our knees.

Now it’s Monday morning, and outside the study window the white stuff is coming down again. I think I’d better see if I have any Bounty bars in the cupboard!

Daffodil Sunday

Every year one of our churchwardens opens her large garden at daffodil time to raise funds for the local church. In the last few years the Sunday chosen has either been too early for the flowers, or too late. This year, it was just right ..... except it was snowing! Add to this the fact that her Jacob sheep started lambing this morning, and it was a fairly hectic day. Still, we sat out in the snow and enjoyed hot soup and quiche, cakes and tea or coffee.


We're all slightly mad here in Suffolk .....

We're having a ball

Busy doing nothing ...

One of the random books listed in "My Library" in the sidebar is "The Tao of Pooh". The final chapter is about the value of doing nothing, which is a wonderful antidote to the Protestant Work Ethic we labour under, especially in this month of Parochial Church Council Annual Meetings (of which there are 11 in this Benefice!).

"In the forty-eighth chapter of the Tao Te Ching, Lao-tse wrote, "To attain knowledge, add things every day. To attain wisdom, remove things every day." Chuang-tse described the principle in his own humourous way:

"I am learning," Yen Hui said.
"How?" the Master asked.
"I forgot the rules of Righteousness and the levels of Benevolence," he replied.
"Good, but could be better," the Master said.

A few days later, Yen Hui remarked, "I am making progress."
"How?" the Master asked.
"I forgot the Rituals and the Music," he answered.
"Better, but not perfect," the Master said.

Some time later, Yen Hui told the Master, "Now I sit down and forget everything."
The Master looked up, startled. "What do you mean, you forget everything?" he asked.
"I forget my body and senses, and leave all appearance and information behind," answered Yen Hui. "I am in the middle of Nothing, I join the Source of All Things."
The Master bowed. "You have transcended the limitations of time and knowledge. I am far behind you. You have found the Way!"

As the book says, "An Empty sort of mind is valuable for finding things because it can see what's in front of it. An Overstuffed mind is unable to. While the Clear mind listens to a bird singing, the Stuffed-Full-of-Knowledge-and-Cleverness mind wonders what kind of bird is singing. The more Stuffed Up it is, the less it can hear through its own ears and see through its own eyes."

The sun is shining - I've written the Sunday sermon, sorted out the music, and there's a clear page in the Diary (until this evening). It's a beautiful Spring day - time to wander out into the garden and listen to the birdsong ......

Ecumenical Balls

Just to show we're ecumenically-minded - here are two more Spot the Ball challenges ...

Round Spherical Object

An old favourite

A classic Sunday newspaper competition returns

Answer will be published in a few days' time

Spring Forward

Losing an hour of sleep tonight as we move to British Summer Time - just as well it's a 5th Sunday of the month tomorow, and there's just the one Eucharist at the later time of 10.30 a.m.!

Pinched from another Blog

Turbulent Cleric posted this, but having viewed this I wanted to share it ...it appeals to my warped sense of humour.

The Orange Olympics

Here's an idea that's gaining ground - that all who oppose the Human Rights abuses in China wear something orange at the event, or around the world during the event. China can ban people from speaking out, but can they ban a colour? It could be a massive and very effective protest.

Easter Day

The snow started at just after 8.00 a.m. and lasted through until about 2.00 p.m., which made travelling the lanes to the morning services quite interesting. However, it was fairly light, wet stuff, and the first service, a Common Worship Eucharist, attracted a congregation of 33 adults and 11 children, whilst the second, a BCP Communion, had 19 adults. This evening's Via Lucis in the church opposite the Parsonage had just 9 of us, but it was getting frosty at the time, and not a good night to be out. At 11.00 p.m. it's now snowing lightly again.

Easter ceremonies

I put it down to the weather ... wintry showers all day and a freezing night making the local roads quite slippery ... but there were only 6 of us at the Easter Eve service this evening. Still, the new fire blazed, the Paschal candle was lit, and we renewed our baptismal promises around the font. And our closing Gospel reading left us with the uncertainty of an empty tomb "while it was still dark, and Peter and the other disciple making their confused way home again. The resurrection appearances belong to the morning.

And since St. Michael's has no electric lights (apart from a desk lamp over the harmonium), the oil lamps and candles made it look amazing.

Location Location

The pictures in the Good Friday entry below were chosen to illustrate the day rather than the location of the services in this rural area. Just to clarify, here's the church in which we processed round the Stations of the Cross in the morning ...


with the crucifixion in its east window ....


and here's the church where we sang Evensong later in the afternoon.


with its Ascension east window.


And it really is that narrow between the choir stalls!

Still atmospheric, I hope.

Good Friday

Just into double figures for this morning's Stations of the Cross, and then 17 for the BCP Evensong this afternoon. I don't yet know about the middle hour (12-1), but no doubt I'll be told soon.

Six people for hot cross buns at 4.00 p.m., and we indulged in "seconds" and "thirds" as I had plenty to go around.

Now all is quiet until tomorrow evening and the Easter Ceremonies.


Living God, at this evening hour your Son our Lord Jesus Christ lay in the tomb and so hallowed the grave to be a bed of hope for all who put their trust in you; give us such sorrow for our sins, which were the cause of his passion, that, when our bodies lie in the dust, our souls may live with him, for he is now alive and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever.

The Office of Compline

Maundy Thursday

Well, actually, yes they can.

There were 14 people for our 8.00 p.m. Eucharist this evening, which is the greatest number in the 7 years I've been here, and 12 of them stayed for the hour-long Vigil afterwards until 10.00 p.m. I have never had more than 6 or 7 stay on, so tonight was a real blessing. We sat in the candlelight and listened to a superb recording of Roger Mayer's setting of some of the words of Julian of Norwich, recorded in Norwich Cathedral. Wonderful music and soaring voices, and the time passed very quickly.

I don't do an all-night Watch in the Garden, nor do we have a decorated Altar of Repose, but we sit in front of the Sacrament remaining from the Eucharist, replaced on the bare altar and surrounded by small lights. Simple and reflective, providing a chance to pause before the drama of tomorrow.

No blessing to finish, just the words of Scripture that bring us to the point of the arrival of Judas and the mob. "Get up. Let us go."

Preparations

Holy Week in church doesn't just happen - there are preparations to be made, and slowly the study becomes littered with service sheets for this, resources for that, and various little bits for the other, until it gets to the stage where I've run out of space on the desk and chair, and things have to be transferred to the hall table.

I think it's all there, from Common Worship Daily Prayer on Maundy Thursday morning, through to Stations of the Resurrection on Easter Sunday evening, (though the service sheets for that last have yet to be copied and compiled).

Is it any wonder clergy breathe a sigh of relief when it's all over, and actually look forward to Low Sunday when things get back to normal?

Of course, it doesn't last. We've Ascension Day looming, then Whitsun, and then Trinity.

O deep joy.

The day is past and over

Well, that was the Great Storm ... or was it the Big Wind? Come to think of it, maybe it was the Great Tempest? ....



(The trouble is, many of my PCC's are like this !)

Another storm, another place

In the Comments to the previous post "Rural Rector" mentions that we missed the October 87 "hurricane" as we were abroad in SW France at the time. It certainly got dark and stormy in Biarritz that day as these two photos show.

This was our first view of the resort as we came out of the undergraound car park. One of our party is standing on the bridge.


In this second shot we are making our way along the beach with the deep dark storm clouds gathering behind! The heavens opened shortly after this was taken!


Back to the present, and it's been blowing all evening with heavy bursts of rain. The old apple trees are surviving so far, but the forecast is for another very stormy day tomorrow, with the Met Office warning of damaging gusts up to 85 mph.

March is certainly holding true to the proverb and "roaring in like a lion".

A plague upon this howling

So says the Boatswain in the opening conversation in Shakespeare's, "The Tempest".

The wind is fairly whistling up my chimney at present, and I've just had a phone call telling me that rain is blowing under the south "Priest's door" of one of the churches and has soaked the rather fine curtain hanging across it. The caller than told me he had lifted the curtain up over the adjacent pew so that it can drip-dry.

Certainly it's unusual here for us to have a southerly gale. Normally it sweeps in from the west and howls across the fields. Today it's hitting the front of the house, so it's just as well that yesterday some emergency repair work was carried out to the top corner of the front wall where the bricks under the eaves were falling out!

Hmm - the double-glazed windows just rattled with that gust, and the lobby door banged shut. Let's hope the old and hollow apple trees survive ...

"Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow!
You cataracts and hurricanoes spout
Till you have drench'd our steeples, drown'd the cocks!"
(King Lear. Act 3. Scene 2)

Heading for shelter

It looks as if the next 24 hours down here in the south of England is going to be a bit breezy! Since we lost power last week for 14.5 hours after a windy day, I will not be surprised it it goes off again tomorrow. I shall boil the kettle and fill some thermos flasks beforehand, and my single camping stove will allow me to cook basic foods such as eggs, beans and soups.

The winds are due to hit Cornwall in the early hours and be over here in East Anglia by 8.00 a.m. Though I was brought up on the coast, I don't regret being inland for this coming event.

Songs of Praise

Darn it - why didn't I find this first?

Thank you, Rural Church Ramblings, for posting it, so that I could pass it along in turn. The sub-titles really do seem accurate ....

Laetare!

Refreshment Sunday, and a time for relaxing your Lenten discipline. So enjoy, rejoice, and, if you're lucky, indulge in a slice of Mothering Sunday Simnel Cake.


And if I had one, I'd be wearing this instead of the Lenten purple ...

An interesting 24 hours!

Howling winds that began yesterday evening, peaked last night, and at just after 1.00 a.m. there was a brilliant flash of light over the hills to the south and all the power went off. It wasn't restored until just after 4.00 p.m. this afternoon, which made the monthly Benefice Coffee morning that I host quite an exercise in logistics. Fortunately a helpful parishioner came forward with several flasks of hot water, and I dug out my single-burner camping gas stove, and so we were able to go ahead - with instant coffee though instead of the real stuff!

And now, at 7.15 p.m. I've just had a call from the Diocesan Exorcist asking my permission to come in to a house in one of our villages and do a "cleansing". Of course I've said "yes". But what is slightly interesting is that they seem to have been contacted by a previous incumbent. I know nothing about the situation at all. At least that call is a nod in the direction of protocol, but I don't think much of the former incumbent's lack of communication with me.

So from the Leap Day we move through St. David's Day and into Mothering Sunday. What a feast of celebration this Lent is proving to be!

Leap Year

Well, here it is - midday on February 29th, and still no offers of marriage, or even a civil partnership! I don't know which hurts most.

Suffolk Saints Earthquake Relief Appeal

An Earthquake measuring 5.2 on the Richter scale hit Market Rasen in Lincolnshire early this morning. The epicentre was just north of the town, and its effects were felt as far north as Dumfries in Scotland and as far south as the Isle of Wight. In Suffolk the tremor woke various residents of the small villages of "The Saints", and mid-morning survivors were seen wandering aimlessly around the lanes saying "Ar, that were un biggun," and "Did the earth move for 'ee then?"

The earthquake shook some houses to their non-exsistent foundations, and in one particular residence damage was sustained to the door at the foot of the stairs which, up until that time, had never closed by itself. Following the tremors it swung shut without effort. In the Parsonage House the Rector was woken from a rather interesting dream by the noise of pictures rattling on the walls. "I knew immediately what it was," he said. "It's the second earthquiake I have survived, my first being the 2.8 magnitude quake that hit Stoke-on-Trent 6th May, 1996. Then, house and car alarms went off and it was bedlam for half-an hour or so. But here," he continued, "in the country, apart from next-door's dogs barking, and the geese in the field at the back squealing, it was just as it always is. I soon went back to sleep."

"The earthquake sounded like distant thunder," said one bemused resident, clutching a cup of coffee in the Village Hall. "I thought one of the North Sea platforms had exploded," said another. "Why? What's happened?" asked a third, stirring her tea with a digestive biscuit.

One resident, a 15 year-old mother of four, said "It was such a ****ing shock, little Chardonnay-Destiny came running into my bedroom crying; my hands were shaking that much I could hardly make me roll-up, and I got tobacco all over me duvet."

The British Red Cross has so far managed to send 4000 crates of tea bags and biscuit selection boxes to the area to help with the crisis. Rescue workers are still searching through the rubble and have found numerous issues of "Farming Weekly", a dozen or so rusty sheep emasculating shears, scores of pension books, and several hundred copies of "Hymns Ancient & Modern".

How Can You Help?

The Suffolk Saints Earthquake Relief Appeal (SSERA) hopes to raise money for food and clothing parcels for those unfortunate enough to be caught up in the disaster. Clothing is most sought after. Urgently needed are shooting jackets, jodphurs, woolly hats, comfy cardigans and wellington boots. Food parcels are also needed. They include Farm-fresh free-range eggs, Suffolk ham, chicken portions and hand-picked mushrooms. Alcohol is also in short supply, especially St. Peter's English Ale, Adnams Bitter and Apple juice.

Cash donations are also needed. £3.50 buys a Fish & chip dinner in Bungay, £15.00 buys a large bag of dried dog food from the Country Superstore, and £28.00 buys a pub lunch for two at St. Peter's Hall. Your help is appreciated.

One Way to Heaven

I learn from today's News that the Christian rock singer, Larry Norman, died on Sunday, 24th, aged 60.

I saw him perform on several occasions, the last at Hove Town Hall, Brighton, Sussex, in the early 1970's. Never had light blue denim and long blond hair looked so good. His style of singing was raw and the lyrics were stark, and he captured the apocalyptic mood of those days. His "One Way" upraised finger sign became our Christian version of the Black Panther clenched fist salute, and I saw it all around me in the Hyde Park Festival of Light rally in 1972.

His proclamation of the Gospel was influential on me as I came to a personal faith in Jesus Christ. His first album, "Upon This Rock" was a revelation to me that the Christian message could be proclaimed in a contemporary style without compromise.


I then bought the album, "Only Visiting this Planet" and both were played fairly continuously.


I then got hold of the "Bootleg" album which contained "unofficial" recordings and studio sessions, and many more songs from his repertoire. Then came "In Another Land", with more composed songs and less "in your face" production. I played it, but the first two remain my favourites.

Thank you, Larry, for your ministry of music and faith.

Last night I came to the gates
With invitation in hand
And my old life left behind
I came as soon as He called
But long before I had planned
Still I came prepared to dine

Enjoy the wedding feast!

I daren't put this in the Benefice magazine

Winter in New York

I see from fellow blogger "Hamptons Ramblings" that there was 3 inches of snow in his driveway this morning. In cases like this, there's only one course of action ... He needs to call:

A bit of fun

Back in the days when computing was all about typing lengthy paragraphs of code, and marvelling that you could get a small cursor to bounce a white dot backwards and forwards across the black screen, games were far less sophisticated and sometimes a lot more fun.

ASTEROIDS was one such game, allowing you to move a small triangular spaceship around the screen, blowing up hurtling asteroids and alien flying saucers, before getting hit and disintegrating into flying shards.

Scroll down to the bottom of this Blog and you will be able to recapture those moments when you were your own Starship Captain, boldly going .....

Foggy and frosty

It's been a bit cold here over the last 36 hours, and I've even lit the open fire in the sitting room in the evenings. The church where the first service today was held was also very cold. The two calor gas heaters didn't make much impression, and my fingers were so numb that it was difficult to pick the bread off the paten at the distribution of communion. I've tried mittens, and they're no use at all. So at every opportunity I stick my hands inside the sleeves of my alb. It helps, but doesn't really warm them. Maybe it's time we brought back fur-lined albs and surplices ....

I wish I'd said that

I get my copy of the "Church Times" a couple of days late since it is kindly passed on to me by someone else, hence it is only today that I have read the 8th February issue.

Giles Fraser hits the nail square on the head in his comments about the forthcoming Lambeth Conference. I have no hesitation in putting up the link to the article and declaring that I wish I'd said it.

Film in real life

In the wonderful film "The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas", the Governor of that fine State has a great song all about letting people think he's saying something, when in reality he says absolutely nothing of any importance. One of the media reporters is asked by a colleague, "What did he say?" and gives the reply, "As usual, not a damn thing."

I feel a bit the same having read the address our Archbishop gave to today's meeting of the General Synod. (The full text can be read at -Mad Priest's blog ) I see the words, but I don't understand them. Another blogger has asked if the Archbishop is incapable of talking straight to the point, or if he always has to go round the houses? I think the answer is that he doesn't understand any other way of presenting his position or arguement. As an academic he uses the academic process. What we need is a pastor who speaks in the terminology and phraseology of the common people. Then we might be able to follow the thinking. As it stands, I switch off, and if I can't be bothered to struggle with this, what hope have others who have had no theological training? (That sounds a bit patronising, as if I, as a cleric, am better able, or should be better able to follow theological thought. I don't think that at all, but too often clergy fall into the trap of speaking and preaching in styles that just do not connect with the person in the pew.)

The Fall of the Empire

Just after my ordination as a Deacon, the Canon in charge of our "potty training" (POT = Post-ordination training) said to us that whilst following our call to ministry had meant sacrifices, we were assured of a "job for life" in the Church of England. Some 11 years later I found myself between posts and signing-on as unemployed for 6 weeks. The Benefits Office didn't have a "vicar" classification on their books, and I had to be put down as a "Methodist minister". But apart from this minor hiccup in employment, at least the Church appeared to be steady and continuing.

Now I look around and hardly recognise the church that nurtured my faith and vocation. The breadth and openness of the Anglican Church has all but disappeared as views are polarised and lines drawn. We have schism in the Episcopal Church of the United States as a couple of "traditional" bishops attempt to take their Dioceses and property out of ECUSA and into the Diocese of the Southern Cone. We have hard-line pronouncements coming from African Archbishops, and a meeting of "traditionalist" Bishops (GAFCON) in Jerusalem just before the Lambeth Conference this summer.

Making today's news is the Hereford Diocese being found guilty of sexual-orientation discrimination and facing a pay-out of £47k to the person affected, and an Archbishop who seems more concerned with making overtures to the Muslim faith rather than dealing with the blatant discrimination against women and gay Christians in his own church.

I sometimes wonder what I'm doing in the midst of all this.

And then I remember.

I am a servant of the Servant. That's my role and purpose. And for the present I am called to exercise that ministry in these rural parishes and their people.

Many years ago, as a child, I went to the cinema to see the film "The Fall of the Roman Empire". I was very interested in all things Roman then, and thought how exciting it must have been to live in the age when the known world was beginning to disintegrate.

I now know what it's like.

Chinese New Year

Fasting

Maybe it's a reaction to Ash Wednesday and the thought of 40 days of Lent, but today I've chomped two of these -
(well, they are 92% fat free!)


and two of these
(which aren't!)

mmmmmm .... chocolate egg ...... *drool*

Browsing

This morning I installed Internet Explorer 7, and so far ....

... but being Microsoft, something's bound to fall-over eventually. What with Tabs, buttons in different places, and a new graphics interface, my Lent is going to be a time of learning!

Just a wafer-thin mint?

Shrove Tuesday, and I've just eaten 6 pancakes, five with Golden Syrup and one with sugar and lemon ....

... God, I'm stuffed ....

*burp*

Get the hose and the cleaning lady ...

Service Pack 2

The last time I tried to install Microsoft Service Pack 2 on my computer, almost two years ago, it screwed up my Internet connection, so I removed it. I have held off re-installing it until this evening when I thought I'd give it another shot. So far, so good. I can still connect, as evidenced by this Post, and all seems to be working well. Now I shall try to update my Internet Explorer from version 6 to 7 with its added security measures.

It's a bit like my Sunday routine with a 9.45 a.m. service followed by an 11.15 a.m. one. By the time the first is over and I'm driving off to the second venue, I wonder if I will get it right this time, or if my sermon delivery will be better, or if I will manage to concentrate all the way through the Eucharistic Prayer without my mind wandering off to building problems, deaths of parishioners, upcoming meetings, faculty applications and the like.

If I could upload a mental Service Pack 2 that kept me fresh and aware that for those subjected to my second "performance" this is their first/one and only act of worship on this day, it might be better for all concerned.

But then the whole system might crash ......

Candlemas

On the Feast of the Purification, a candle is lit in thanks for calmer weather.