Earlier this week, a  non-Piskie friend asked me if I felt obliged to go to church during my holidays.

I said that I longed for those few Sundays that I got to go to church with no strings attached.  Indeed, I plan my holidays around making sure I am where I need to be for good worship on a Sunday.  Those days as precious, and I find a really good service ‘feeds’ me for weeks and months after the event.

And you have seen that in my reflections on the service at St Thomas’.

I have been promising to blog on the eucharist, and I will.  But procrastination has paid off, for I have realised that before I write about it, I must preach on it — and that never works so well the other way round.

Sadly, my last service in Dunoon tomorrow will be difficult.  There was crazy unwarranted conflict in the congregation this week and no matter how many times I tell myself to let go and let people be angry with me if they need to be, the truth is that I am blinded by it and it is interfering with my ability to preach well on my last day.

And it is the service at St Thomas’ that has come to the rescue:  an experience of spaciousness and grace, that was not free from conflict or difficulty, but an experience in which God triumphed over the human failures.

So yes:  I go to church when I am on holiday.  I can’t imagine how I would live otherwise.