Now that the props are ready for tomorrow’s worship, Molly has kindly offered to model the likely range of reactions from the congregation.
1. ‘You think I got out of bed for this??’
2. ‘Count me in. (but no water, right?)’
pushing the boat out
So, do you suppose after two years here, the congregations are ready for me to abandon a normal sermon in favour of paper folding and meditative prayer?
The idea spawned equally by tomorrows OT lesson on Moses amid the Bullrushes, and the fact that my voice is very weak after an infection.
I still remember the first time I put pen and paper out at my last church and had a substantial part of the congregation prowling up and down the aisle before the service saying:
what are these for? (wait and see)
what are we going to do? (wait and see)
Here, you can have this. I won’t be needing it. (yes, you will)to the friend, the enemy, the warden, the rector:
Will she tell you what we’re doing? (no, of course not)
The second time there were paper and pens in the pews it went much better:
oh, I don’t like orange. Can I have that pink bit?
Do you like green? No! Give it to the rector.
My pen doesn’t work, does yours?
What are we supposed to be doing?
Here, N. (age 7) will show you.
Ah, happy days.
one body
It sounded like such a good idea: for a couple of months in the year, on the third Sunday of the month, the Piskie and the C of S congregations would join together for a communion service. When I take it, is according to our practice. When the C of S minister, it is according to his.
My goal is to help our tiny little congregation feel more at ease in joining in with their neighbours, and to remind all those English folk who have retired to Tighnabruaich that we exist and they can come for communion occasionally even if they want to worship with the larger church more often.
For the C of S minister, I suspect the goal is both to offer hospitality and to restore an old practice of occasional evening communion which he is happy to support, but doesn’t really want to preside at all the time.
Easy, right? Proper and good for small rural congregations.
And it will be.
But first we have to sort out wine (for us: wine, fermented grape. for them: grape juice, must be non-alcoholic) then bread (for us: bread or wafers. for them: oatcakes) then the requirements of coeliacs (OK with wafers/rice wafers. OK with oatcakes. But since I suspect they won’t be happy with wafers and we won’t be happy with oatcakes…)
So what do you think? How do we resolve the wine/grape-juice/bread/wafer/oatcake situation?
I wonder what other unforseen challenges with arise.
birds of a feather
I was just relishing the strange feeling of lightness having decided that I would not work tonight when the flock of collard doves arrived (flutter, flap, coo). Close on their tails was the family of jays, mewing like distressed kittens. And now Molly is in on the game, chattering and trying to pounce through the window.
Rabbits, finch, blue tits, robins, deer, even owls Molly takes in her stride. She has also learned that if you blink at deer, they blink back.
But birds that sound like cats or look like a they might roast up into something like chicken? Well, can you blame her?
Ah, mother bunny is here. That should scare the jays away and soothe Molly’s fretting.
wonderful exchange 