Those of you who have had the misfortune of seeing me lately will know that I have been having what my parents used to call a ‘grumpy day’. All week. I have been frustrated by what seems to be happening in the Anglican Communion; bewildered by the ease with which Gafcon seems to be claiming ‘plain readings’ of scripture, the 39 articles, and the 1662 prayer book as the clear standards of faith; and repeatedly tempted to despair over the future of the church.
But not today.
Today, the church was out in all its glorious eccentricity. Five year olds building sand castles, 89 year olds playing cricket, normally sensible adults wearing silly hats and flower lays and even a Hawaiian shirt. We played boules and Frisbee. We gathered in passing tourist from Australia and Germany, and a few locals (yes, I am counting the dogs) and ended the evening by passing our fire and marshmallows on to a family group from Dunoon who were just setting up camp.
At last a reminder of why we hold onto church (and not just God) despite all the nonsense.