minor distractions

Today was set aside as ‘odds & ends and planning’. One of the things I needed to do was to put our charity numbers on church web pages.  And then I got a bit carried away.

Rothesay got a revamp, but no new content yet.

Dunoon is redressed & redefined: two new pages called ‘get involved’ and ‘photos’. I know it doesn’t sound like much, but it has filled the afternoon.

And as I typed, I thought ‘what a busy little church we are.’  And when you multiply that by two, it makes me realise why I never quite catch up with all I intend to do.

No doubt I’ve forgotten things. No doubt I could say things differently. Suggestions welcome here or on the comment pages on the web site (though if there, they will probably be deleted once addressed…)

by any other name

Yesterday, I received an invitation (along with the congregation) to produce an article for a booklet that is being written about LCM. For those spared the tortures of Piskie jargon, that is Local Collaborative Ministry.

Why thank you, said I, only one thing: why us?

I found that I was thrown into an old dilemma. What makes an LCM congregation an LCM congregation? Despite having spoken to all the usual suspects and having read all the relevant documents, I still don’t know.

Is it because in Dunoon and Rothesay clergy and lay people work collaboratively? No, that can’t be it. I can think of many other churches where clergy and lay people work collaboratively, and they are not dubbed LCM. Is it because we are local?? If so, it is the first time I’ve heard anyone from the central belt say that of Cowal and Bute. Is it because both churches have lay worship leaders, a ‘lay ministry team’? Again, no. I would struggle to think of a healthy church that didn’t — though the forms such teams take are manifold.

So is it because the clergy to congregation ratio is 1:3? Is it because sometimes our lay teams lead worship in the absence of a priest? It may be. But if that is what LCM means, then I am all the more wary of being labelled an LCM congregation, for I would not want to imply that ‘no priest’ was a norm we had accepted. It is a situation we cope with. It is occasionally a crisis that spurs growth. But I would not want to encourage it as a long term vision or desired norm.

‘But that’s how it is.’ I can hear you say. ‘There aren’t enough priest to go around, and we couldn’t afford them if there were.’

Well, yes. But that doesn’t mean that’s how it should be.

I have said this before and I will no doubt say it again:

All that stands between where we are now, and where we would need to be for each congregation to gather (priest and laity together) for the eucharist is growth.

More people, more possibilities.
More people, better resources (human and otherwise).
More people, more vocations to ordained ministry.
More people, better funding for ordinand training.
More people, more possibilities to share the gospel.

If LCM is a label used to describe churches who are coping admirably in a less than desirable situation, then so be it. I will take the label up gladly. But if it suggests that ‘people, no priest’ is what we hope for or intend, then the label is not for me thanks.

As for lay involvement… ‘people’ and priest working together?

Well, that is just ‘Church’.

Label enough for me.

ad aduvandum me

It has been said that I am not always good at asking for help.  While of course that is not true, it does seem to take a stomach bug to make me ask readily.

So, in the past 24 hours, various members of the congregations have:

  • collected advent candles at the rectory and transported them to Toward Primary School.
  • carried said candles over hill and dale to the Colintraive ferry.
  • gone to collect the well travelled candles the next morning, before weaving them into a wreath.
  • chaired an AGM on short notice, bravely risking AOCB.
  • agreed to preside tomorrow — both in Dunoon and Tighnabruaich.  (It happens to be the week my predecessor is in town.)
  • (most important of all) delivered cat treats to Molly, who had nibbled her way through the last pack yesterday when I was too ill to get out of bed.

Thanks to everyone for stepping into the breach.  Hopefully all will be back to normal by Monday.

carry on

I finally reached the point this week of admitting that exhaustion had won.  It tried masking as a cold, briefly flirted with the idea of making me sick, kindly went away for thanksgiving dinner, then settled in with a vengeance as a headache today.

The result is a fully backed up computer system, lots of deleted files, and a very relaxed cat.

But, as I’ve trundled on this week, one thing struck me.  Phone call after phone call has come from various members of the congregation telling me how they have been looking after each other.  That’s not what they said, of course.  All the calls came as ‘I think you should know…’  And indeed, many of them will demand follow-up from me.  But for the most part the real work had already been done.

Some of the work has been brave too:  not giving people what they want, in the hopes of actually giving them what they need.  Drawing a line while still acting compassionately.  Reaching out to people that are perpetually hard to reach.  All the difficult stuff that most of us struggle with when holding the balance between ideals and personalities, long term and short term goals.

I’m glad they’re all getting on with it while I continue to ‘go-slow’ for a couple of days.

(once the vestry meeting is over, of course.)