The liturgical toys have arrived, just in time for the sermon on ‘Offering’.
Too bad most of the kids are away.
Category: church
help wanted
So, I’m building a new church web site.
(pause while regular readers laugh knowingly)
But wonderfully funny, occasionally outrageous, and pastorally astute Peacebang has offered some very useful tips in what we should be aiming for.
So, while I shamelessly steal her ideas, I need help from the congregation in Dunblane.
I already have one of our talented photographers working on the instructions ‘I want candids of real people doing real things’ — but now lets be more specific.
I want photos of H. mowing the lawn… of G kneeling in the midst of a pile of flowers preparing the church for worship…the craft group crafting… the teenagers helping at Radio Rainbow… the girls cleaning the church…
And pictures of things people do in the community… of taking communion to the elderly (not posed — but maybe at the moment of laughing over a cup of tea before the communion set has disappeared from site), of planting flowers in the community flower beds, of helping a neighbour carry their shopping.
I wish I had had my camera on Sunday when an older, quiet, gentle man was sitting intimately with the child who was having A VERY BAD DAY. So next time…
And then, I want quotations. Lots of the things that were written on ‘The Waters that Sustain’ my first Sunday could be tweaked into something meaningful out of context, but it would be better to get things fresh. Would you write to me, talk to me, talk to each other and listen for those memorable phrases: what does your faith mean to you? why do you go to church? where do you feel closest to God? How do you embody God for others?
Now, I suspect some non-Dunblane folk will want in on this, so do play in the comments. But those of you who are local: will you spread the word, get out your cameras, and write down those wonderful phrases to help me build this web page.
good things
Some good things I have learned today:
- the rectory rabbit is not alone: hurrah. (I realise not everyone shares my joy)
- contrary to rumour, we do indeed know ‘which Mary’ we are dedicated to. It is right there on the wall: ‘window given on the centenary of the dedication, 28 May, 1945’.
- there is therefore good precedent for celebrating the Visitation on the 28th. I shall take no more teasing about it from the Provost, and hereby declare it our Patronal (Matronal?) festival. (apparently there hasn’t been one for a while??)
- blue-tak is 99% reliable. (sadly, there were about 300 blobs of it on the wall)
- white-tak by UHU is better.
- wedding season does end. (actually, I still take this on faith; but the thought is happy)
- Fat Rascals, sent kindly and humorously from Betty’s by Betty, survived a few days of negligence at the post office while I lived under the illusion that the packet was Inspires.
- The flower arrangers are coming up with beautiful and creative solutions to the dilemma I created by the words ‘flowers don’t belong on an altar.’ This week we have gladioli, dogwood, and lots of delicate white froofy things that the angels rejoice in and call by name: tucked artfully into window ledges, rejoicing from pedestals, surprising at every turn.
echo
Oh the blogging possibilities. Every hour or so I think ‘I must write about this’ but then the phone rings, someone appears at the door, I lose another hour looking for something in the church, or I get caught up with weddings, visits, discussions about where we are going and what we are hoping for.
My days are wonderfully diverse here. And — because everything is new, and there is so much to take in — it is utterly exhausting. This will pass. I remember it from the first month of my curacy: things that later felt very easy and hardly took any energy were at first so full of surprises that I would at some point each week simply crash and sleep for an hour.
But the biggest surprise so far is that ordained life might indeed be what I thought it was when I went through selection.
I know: all candidates are romantics. We all have unrealistic hopes and visions of what the church is, what priesthood is, and how we might fit in. But still, there must be something in all that dreaming. And yet so much of my ordained life so far has not been that. There have been many riches, many experiences I would not trade, but while I always knew it was what I was called to, there was always a gap between expectations and reality that I couldn’t quite name.
In the past fortnight here, there is no gap.
There is joy.
People come and go, conversations arise. Drains are cleared and linens are washed and fish are carefully removed from walls. The garden fills with children and then falls silent as the Rabbit nibbles on the lawn before bedtime. I found the wagtails today, and sat by the bed of someone who was dying. Yesterday, we played with 60 children in the church and taught them about baptism. They loved it and we loved it, and everyone got wet. There are discussions on liturgy and music, discernment of ministries and the importance of the link with a project in Zambia that the sisters from OHP run.
When I go into the church, I never know what will happen. Sometimes it is the quiet hush of a building resting, waiting, and I can slip easily into prayer. Other times it is a meeting ground: women wandering home after the craft group, teenagers wandering in after a bad day of computing. Sometimes something inbetween: flowers quietly and beautifully being prepared, collections being counted, people just there.
It is good.
wonderful exchange 