The shin bone's connected to the ....

This last week I spent a couple of days down in London in order to visit this current exhibition at the British Museum.


It was well worth seeing, and if there are still indulgences to be obtained from viewing relics of the saints, then I must have gained a few more years off purgatory.

The reliquaries were mostly magnificent, and the exhibition was well laid out, taking you on a time-line from early Roman memorials through to the Reformation and beyond. There were numerous rock-crystal containers and gems each holding from one to several relics, some of which it was reasonable to suppose that they were the genuine article, such as skull fragments from Thomas Becket, as history records that such mementos were taken by the monks before his burial. Others though needed faith strong enough to move mountains, such as a hair from the Virgin Mary (her head, one is led to believe) or a shred of Christ's umbilical cord. And there were enough fragments of the True Cross to construct a small matchbox, as well as several thorns from the crown of thorns.

The same day was highly educational, for not only did I see this exhibition but I also called in at the Sir John Soane Museum in Lincoln Inn Fields.


This Regency collector was a hoarder of all things architectural, and the three adjoining houses in the square flow into each other in a warren of rooms filled with cornices and carvings.


In his Picture Room the wall panels are hinged so that more paintings can be displayed behind, and hidden from sight are two series of Hogarth oils, "An Election" and the better-known "Rake's Progress".


On the end wall are three paintings by Canaletto who must be one of my favourite artists, and it was a treat to be able to get up so close to the main picture of St. Mark's Square in Venice and see exactly how he created his figures with just small blobs of colours.

It's a truly unique place, but Soane must have been hell to live with. Perhaps it's no surprise that neither of his sons grew up to be supportive of his mania.

I also made another trip to the Victoria & Albert Museum to look at their new gallery of religious architecture and altar pieces. There are some magnificent examples here, and I was able to freely use my camera.





Then as I waited for my train at Liverpool Street Station I was reminded that there was an important event taking place in just a few short hours ...

The full light

This is the window of which the stonework was the gift of King Edward VII when he was still a young Prince of Wales. It was plain glass - the pictorial stained glass was given later.

Feast of the Nativity of John the Baptist

"Put your hand there! He's kicking!"

(Part of the east window of our only Benefice church dedicated to John the Baptist)

Feast of Corpus Christi

That's the way to do it!

Now, where's the Benefice umbrellino?

I want some!

It will go with my white and gold chasuble as designed by Slabbinck for the visit of Pope to Belgium in May 1985.

My birthday is August 3rd !

Head in the clouds

On looking out of the window late on Sunday evening.

Hello Pot, meet Kettle.

Writing in the New Statesman, the archbishop of Canterbury has issued a broadside against the coalition government, claiming it is forcing through "radical policies for which no one voted".

Hmmm, a bit like the Anglican Covenant then? That's something to which he is dedicated forcing upon the Anglcan Communion whether we want it or not, and with no proper opportunity for the bums on the seats to actually make their voices heard. Note also that he occupies a position also for which no person voted.

I never realised before that part of the enthronement process of the Archbishop of Canterbury was the stapling onto his head of a huge pair of blinkers.

God is a donut?

A "friend" in Germany sent me this link. Pass the bucket, I think I'm going to be very very ill. (Apparently this young lad is now an attorney!)

Oh dear .....

On the Six o'clock BBC News this evening ....


Anyone care to buy the Children's Minister a dictionary so that she can educate whoever put up that display behind her?
.

On the 50th anniversary ...

On Memorial Day 1994 I was fortunate enough to be part of a group from Beaminster in Dorset to attend the 50th anniversary celebrations of the D-Day landings at the town of St. James in Normandy. Beaminster and St. James were "twinned", and as a Team Vicar in that parish I was asked to be the church's representative at the event.

The main Act of Remembrance took place at the large American War Cemetery just outside St. James, and being the 50th anniversary of the D-Day landings, the celebrations were somewhat more elaborate than usual.


One of the most telling moments was seeing a local schoolchild standing by each war grave, and who then planted small national flags in front of each stone, both the American Stars and Stripes and the French Tricoleur. Seventeen years on, all those children will now be older than many of those whom they were remembering that day.

I recall it was a blazing hot day, and I sought shelter within the Memorial chapel, and from its tower I was able to get a grandstand view across the cemetery to St. James and the land beyond which had been a battleground those few short years before.


It was good to be part of this, and on this trip we not only visited some of the D-Day landing beaches and the Pegasus bridge, but also a German War cemetery which was far more sombre in mood, and brought into sharp relief the differences between the memorials of the victor and the defeated.

67 years ago .... Thank you.

Up, up and awaaaaay !

Acts of the Apostles 1: 4-12.

4. And lo, He saith unto them, Stay put in the city, something not altogether insignificant is about to happen.
5. And behold, He seemed thereafter to change his mind and led them out of the city, unto Bethany, which is an high place indeed.
6. And the disciples did nod and wink at one another exceedingly, for they knew that strange and holy things alway happened unto them in high places.
7. For, indeed, these were places of exegesis, and deep in symbolism.
8. And verily, no sooner had they got there, He raisest up his arms, and lo, he was gone.
9. And there was no whoosh. Nay, not even a flash of light.
10. And two men in white robes suddenly appeared unto them and saith:
11. "Why standeth thee here? The show is over. Depart in peace."
12. And lo, they returned to the city and diligently went straightforward unto church thinking, What an odd Thursday. Shame there weren't more people there.

The Wenchoster Bible

Just an ordinary day in the country

A major rural funeral today for a young man in his 40's. The church, our largest in the Benefice, was packed to overflowing, and we estimate 400+ people in attendance. They were not only standing outside, but also had filled the choir and were standing in the sanctuary around the altar. An individual service in that he wasn't a church attender, and before his death had picked 5 pieces of 1970's rock music to be played instead of singing hymns. There was also no Bible reading, but the piece from Henry Scott Holland, "All is Well" instead. The tributes from his brother and from his two children were emotive.


In complete contrast, the village church opposite has been the scene of media activity all day with a film crew shooting a graveyard scene for an upcoming feature film. I'm sworn to silence. Vans and cars parked across the entrance, my patio being used as the refreshment area, and my back loo once more making vital provision for humanity's needs.

A wedding tomorrow, and 4 more funerals next week. It must be the weather .....

Grandmother, what big teeth you have!

This Guardian article is important reading for all Church of England people. It seems that there might actually be "something rotten in the state of Denmark" after all, and it's not their banning of Marmite.

It's a cover-up

Browsing through French property sites again I came across this rather fine example of the Gallic desire to wallpaper every surface in their home. I'm just not sure how you're supposed to light the fire.... or how you get out once the door is closed ....

I'm clearly not worthy enough

Well, it’s over three hours past the 6.00 p.m. deadline for the Rapture to take place across the U.K and it doesn’t seem to have happened. No earthquake, no fiery rain, no dead rising from their graves (unless you’re watching “The Walking Dead” on TV catch-up, or a DVD like “Shaun of the Dead”). It’s all rather an anti-climax, and it means I still have to preach at two services tomorrow morning!

Christmas Island, the first place that it would have occurred is still there, as are Australia and New Zealand where it’s already Sunday morning. Harold Camping’s prediction has been shown to be exactly what it is, the mutterings of a deluded person.

Camping, who is president of California-based Family Radio, predicted that today, May 21, 2011, would see Christians taken up to heaven at 6.00 p.m. local time. Although the overwhelming majority of Christians dismissed and ignored his claims, some of his followers have emptied their bank accounts to fund an advertising campaign warning about judgment day. Camping runs FamilyRadio.com which is worth an estimated $117 million, but which tonight seems to be mysteriously unavailable on the internet.

Over a decade ago, Camping made a similar prediction that the world would end in 1994. Responding to his wrong prediction, Camping said he got the maths wrong, but that this time he is certain that the May 21st 2011 rapture date is correct, “without a doubt.”

The 89-year-old Camping lives in one of the last time zones to hit the deadline. The eyes of the media are on him now and waiting for him to explain again why his calculations were wrong.

The End is Nigh

But as Von Smallhausen merrily shouted whilst marching across Nouvion town square wearing a sandwich board proclaiming that message .... "A little bit of what you fancy does you good!"

I may be silent ....

... for 'tis a Croquet weekend, and whilst all is quiet on this Blog, the sounds from the garden are far from subdued. I have warned the neighbours and apologised for the language!

ARCHDRAGON

'Tis the Archdeacon's Visitation this evening in nearby Beccles at which she will swear in, or at, our churchwardens for another year. I already know of 3 who won't be there from these parishes, so I shall have to stand in her stead at some forthcoming Sunday service and administer the oaths on her behalf. And since the Archdeacon already does it on behalf of the Bishop, I really am at the bottom of the pile!

Actually ....

... it's not so much "Who are you all?" It's more a question of why on earth do you bother to read this drivel?

Who are you all?

Out if idle curiosity I have just clicked on the Stats button for this Blog, and then on Viewers. The following graphic shows how many times these pages have been accessed since I began posting 0n 22nd August 2006. Not a vast number in the grand scheme of Blogging, but the spread across the northern hemisphere is interesting. Who are you in Moldova? (And where is it?) Who is it in Iran who is logging on? Over 1,000 views from Russia? And there was me thinking that I could count my readers on the fingers of one hand!

Full marks for effort

You have to give them credit for trying ....

This is a new angle - not Nigerian Lottery this time!


From the desk of Mr Jayson Ahern
Canadian Customs and Border Protection


Attn: Honourable Beneficiary

we hereby bring to your notice that a consignment which is to be delivered at your
residence by a diplomat had been stopped by us. This is a security measure
put in place by Canadian Government to check terrorism and money laundry
through the sale of illegal drugs locally and internationally.

Upon a proper examination, we found out that the content in the consignment contained the sum of
US$3.5 Million, which upon further investigation we found out that the fund was your inheritance.

So your mail response will determine the release and onward deliver of your consignment at your residence
after all protocols have been observed.

However, in order to proceed we need you to reconfirm the following information,

Full Name:

Your current Residential Address:

Telephone/Mobile Numbers:

Occupation:

We await your response.

Regards,

Jayson Ahern
Commissioner
Canadian Customs and Border Protection
Please get back to us on this email ahernjayson26@yahoo.com


Dear Mr. Ahern ...

Spot the Difference

One is dated 11th September 2001, whilst the other is dated 2nd May 2011.

The blogger at Dating God: Franciscan Spirituality for the 21st Century reminds his readers of some Scripture ( Proverbs 24:17-20: Do not rejoice when your enemies fall, and do not let your heart be glad when they stumble, or else the LORD will see it and be displeased, and turn away his anger from them.) and writes:

As I have already said elsewhere, this is not a moment for “triumph” or “celebration,” contrary to what so many television pundits and so-called patriots will suggest. It is indeed an important moment in our national and global history, something to take seriously and reflect upon, but the celebration of the death of a human being is not what Christians are called to do as Jesus makes quite clear above.

God does not desire vengeance and this is not God’s form of justice.

That's all white then

Ah - a Bank Holiday - and what more traditional way to spend part of it than to do some decorating? My guest toilet cum boiler room has today received a fresh coat of white paint, though how long it will stay that way with the boiler seemingly chucking out a film of grey soot every time it fires up is another matter.
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A Grand Day Out

It's been a fun day of celebration. No Street Party in this village, but a "Safari" with a gaggle of adults and children moving from one house to another to partake of liquid refreshment and snacks. I hosted at 1.30 p.m. just after the fly-past over Buckingham Palace had been televised, and we enjoyed glasses of "Pimm's", white bread cucumber sandwiches (with the crusts cut off), prawn vol-au-vents, a selection of "deep fried" (oven) prawns in batter, crumbs etc with a sweet chilli dip or a hoi sin & plum dip, and a cheeseboard, sitting out on the patio in hazy sunshine. I then followed the crowd to the last two stops on the trek, partaking of an alcoholic ginger beer and two glasses of minty margerita.

Easter morning

Very early, just after the sun had risen, they went to the garden ....

The new Bishop of Salisbury? We can dream ...

The Gospel for 5th Sunday in Lent, Year A.

The Raising of Lazarus as depicted in an unattributed oil painting gifted to one of our Benefice churches back in the 1890's where it hangs above the font, presumably symbolic of new life. I remain unconvinced of its suitability in that position.

AGM number 6 of 11

I don't feel less wise ...

... with the extraction of my bottom left wisdom tooth ... just numb....

I was offered it as a souvenir .... I declined. The tooth fairy hasn't called for years.
:)

Duck Soup

Not the Marx Bros variety .....


These were taking up valuable parking space in Halesworth this morning. I don't think they'd paid. Who do I call?

Brewing

SCENE I. A cavern. In the middle, a boiling cauldron.

Thunder. Enter the three Witches

First Witch
Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd.

Second Witch
Thrice and once the hedge-pig whined.

Third Witch
Harpier cries 'Tis time, 'tis time.

First Witch
Round about the cauldron go;
In the poison'd entrails throw.
Toad, that under cold stone
Days and nights has thirty-one
Swelter'd venom sleeping got,
Boil thou first i' the charmed pot.

ALL
Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.

Second Witch
Fillet of a fenny snake,
In the cauldron boil and bake;
Eye of newt and toe of frog,
Wool of bat and tongue of dog,
Adder's fork and blind-worm's sting,
Lizard's leg and owlet's wing,
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.

ALL
Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.

Third Witch
Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf,
Witches' mummy, maw and gulf
Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark,
Root of hemlock digg'd i' the dark,
Gall of goat, and slips of yew
Silver'd in the moon's eclipse,
Finger of birth-strangled babe
Ditch-deliver'd by a drab,
Make the gruel thick and slab:
Add thereto a tiger's chaudron,
For the ingredients of our cauldron.

ALL
Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.

Second Witch
Cool it with a baboon's blood,
Then the charm is firm and good.

Yes! It's Lent Lunch day again ... and the home-made soups are bubbling!
Carrot and coriander.
Roasted tomato and red pepper.

Annual Church Meetings 2011

That's one down ... just 10 more to go.
.

Anti-Cuts March, London

"This has been Middle Britain speaking," said the TUC General Secretary Brendan Barber. Well, maybe some of it, Mr. Barber, but not this bit of it over here in Suffolk. This part of "Middle Britain" and its families view the chaos that took place in London today with distaste. It's claimed that small groups hijacked the main march and broke away to carry out their illegal activities, but the march itself gave them the opportunity to do so, and also the cover into which they could disappear afterwards.

None of us want to see cuts in Public Services, but if you haven't got the money you can't spend it without running up massive debts and eventual bankruptcy. What holds true in an individual life holds true with the national life. It's the same cry that the churches are making to the Diocese as it continually presses our congregations to increase their giving so that mission may go ahead, completely forgetting that the existence of the ancient church building in the centre of its community is mission in itself.

I was in London this morning, but took the opportunity to make my way to Liverpool Street station well ahead of time so as to miss the expected mayhem. I walked across Hyde Park from Kensington to Marble Arch to catch the tube. The Hyde Park police station was a hive of activity with coach-loads of uniformed officers getting ready for the day. The tents and mobile toilets were set up on the lawns, and at Marble Arch itself there were several stands with red "Socialist Worker" flags fluttering and copies of their paper being touted to bemused tourists. I made it along the Central Line with no problems. At Liverpool Street a small group of "Socialist Worker" students (is not that self-contradictory?) were massing ready to march down to the centre, but I slipped away north-east on my train, the only occupant in a 1st Class carriage (this luxury just a couple of pounds more than 2nd class travel).

Brendan Barber said he "bitterly regretted" the violence, adding that he hoped it would not detract from the massive anti-cuts protest. He told the Press Association: "I don't think the activities of a few hundred people should take the focus away from the hundreds of thousands of people who have sent a powerful message to the Government today. Ministers should now seriously reconsider their whole strategy after today's demonstration."

The trouble is, Mr. Barber, despite the laudable rhetoric on your march posters (as above), I don't see any credible practical alternative plan being offered by your side in this debate.

Lent Lunch No.2

The second Lent Lunch is upon me, and so tonight has been spent setting out the tables, which will seat 16 people, place-mats, cutlery, napkins, the cheeseboards and condiments, and finding enough chairs.


Tomorrow's choices will be Sweet potato and vegetable with coriander, or Mushroom with tarragon. Served with a warm bread roll, and the followed by a small selection of cheeses, rounded off with coffee or tea, all for £3.50 per head.

I'm thankful I've got two soup kettles (large bains-maries) and a dishwasher!
.

In trembling and fear

Faced with the devastation we've been witnessing on our TV screens and in our newspapers these last few days, we can find ourselves at loss for words to describe our reactions. Here's someone who has managed to piece together their thoughts and faith in a comprehensive and compelling way.

Phew! It's a scorcher!

The vicarage ran out of heating oil at the start of February, and I've been hanging on before ordering because this village has a buying Consortium, and if I had ordered my fuel independently I would not only have missed out on their reduced price, but also lowered the total order for the rest of the group. So it's been electric heaters since then, and heating each room as required. The hallways have been so cold that your breath could be seen, and I've been sleeping under two duvets and another cover.

But yesterday the oil was delivered, and though it has cost me not far short of a grand to fill the tank, the house is now reasonably warm again. I've even left off my vest!

It was no real hardship, after all I grew up in a home with no central heating, scraping ice off the inside of the windows during winter, and my first flat had a small gas fire in the sitting room as its only source of heat, but so soon do we wallow in physical comfort when it's available.

I'm not sure if that's an entirely appropriate way to begin Lent!
.

Signs of hope in the garden

From winter's decay new life springs forth.

Picture it

My trip back to Sarum College wasn't a holiday - I was on a short course entitled "Infancy Narratives of Matthew, Luke and James" which looked at the various accounts of the birth of Jesus and how they have influenced the ways in which classical artists have portrayed the event.

Taking the apocryphal Gospel of James as our starting point on Monday afternoon, we looked at, amongst others, works by Giotto, Ghirlandaio and Gaddi. The Giotto frescoes in particular tell Mary's story and show how Joseph was chosen to be her husband. The image above shows their betrothal after Joseph's rod has burst into flower, signifying that he is the intended groom. To the left you can see a disappointed suitor breaking his rod over his knee in annoyance, whilst another steps forward to slap Joseph across the head - an ancient symbol of ascertaining his virility.

On Tuesday morning we looked at Matthew's Gospel and his genealogy of Jesus, and viewed works by Champaigne, Sasseta and El Greco. In the afternoon we began on Luke, and looked at paintings by Fra Angelico, van Eyck, Tintoretto and Rosetti.

Wednesday morning we should have finished Luke's opening chapters, but our lecturer, Dori Rockefeller, was unwell and unable to be with us, so instead the cathedral Precentor came across and spoke to us on "Liturgy as Art" and caused us to think about the "theatre" of what we do in our worship.

In all it was an entertaining and informative time, and well worth attending. A feast for the mind and eyes. The food at the College was good as well!

Hitting the bottle

The cloisters at Salisbury Cathedral are currently hosting a sound and light exhibition by the artist Bruce Munro. On two sides of the quadrangle the cloister walk is filled with 69 glowing towers made from 15,000 recyclable 2 litre water bottles which are illuminated inside with fibre-optic cables. The colours change to a soundtrack of recorded choral music, and it's quite an experience to wander among these towers in the dark as I did this evening after Choral Evensong.


Inside the cathedal several curtains of tear-drop lights hang from the choir arch at the central crossing, and seen from the west end of the nave, behind the mirror-surface of the font with its ever-flowing four streams of water, it creates a marvellous view.

Night has fallen ...

...and I've just had a pint of Badger's Best Bitter in The New Inn.

Back at 19 The Close ...

... for a short course on Art and the Incarnation narratives of Matthew, Luke and the Gospel of James.

Treading the old familiar corridors of my training ground and surrounded by ghosts .... DN and his gin parties for his anglo-catholic buddies, Pinky & Perky, JC puffing his pipe out of the attic window, TJ fiddling with sliders and volume controls in the basement, Cyril the caretaker, BP who would hear what you were saying but wasn't quite sure what you meant, AG in his cowboy boots, 4Q Florilegium, KY and the BCP, and above all, like a caring house-master, RA.

A gentle whisper ...

King Lear
Act III. Scene II.

Lear speaks:
Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow!
You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout
Till you have drench’d our steeples, drown’d the cocks!

It's getting rough out there ... nothing like northern Scotland has had to put up with in the last 24 hours with gusts of 130 mph on the top of the Highlands, nor the people of Queensland, but the windows are whistling, the wind roaring in the trees, and lots of dead wood coming down on the roads, and the internet connection crashing every couple of minutes.