The Day the Bishop Came

What a wonderful day!

You may remember me saying that last Sunday was the day we would be welcoming (or not, as it is his church, but you know what I mean) the Bishop of London to our little edifice. It was always going to be a complex piece of liturgy, given that it had baptisms (2), confirmations (12), a flavour of a dedication festival and the mighty Harvest Festival thrown in for good measure. The church comfortably seats 150 but we shoehorned 176 into the wonky pews, and yes, the Sun she shone.

First things first - I was nervous. The Eight O'clockers were probably short-changed as my mind raced forward to the next service, and I get hopelessly tongue-tied with the BCP Rite when my mind wanders. Yes, I was nervous - but no-one told me that +Richard was flippin' huge. I am a tall bloke but he made me feel short and that happens rarely! Slap the pointy titfer on his head and he was in very serious danger of colliding with sanctuary lamps! 

That all said, my nerves weren't really required. He was gracious, encouraging, relaxed and happy to 'be pushed around where he was needed', and from the first encounter was a joy to have around. He was interested in the history of our church (in this its 150th year) and waxed lyrical about it on more than one occasion. Before doing the things that I would normally do when going into a church for the first time (things that involve words, robes and 'where would I stand when ...'), he walked with me to the Parish Hall to meet the candidates. He took the time to speak to each in person, and privately - gave them a letter and a card, and did a remarkable thing - remembered their names from that moment onwards (and made something of a party-trick of it later). I could tell that he had made each of the candidates feel special taking interest in their names and stories. The younger ones loved him!

I needn't have worried. I sense that he knew a little about me, had made an educated guess that I may have been bricking it, and did much to reassure me that all would be well. The sound system failed but he made light of that, and if anyone has a voice to fill our shoe-box of a church, it is him. He preached beautifully on the subject of love ("knowledge puff up, love builds up") and the gathered assembly were rapt. Now, boys and girls - a lesson for you if you write a blog. The bishop not only referred to this blog, but quoted from it, in his sermon (in a good way, I think). If you write a blog, remember the possibilities as regards readers and never presume that someone doesn't! Enough said. 

All went very well indeed. He even whipped up the candidates to re-do a response because they weren't loud enough, and that added a dimension of relaxedness to the occasion that made it work so well. At the end, when it came to candles, he joked that "we will need a production line here, brothers". 

The candidates were confirmed, their guests fed, our local history-buff put in direct contact with 'the right person', approaching 200 people happy, a Vicar relieved and a congregation affirmed. Could I have asked for more? Not one bit. It isn't often that little parishes get to receive the Big Guns, but our day will be one that we treasure for a very long time. 

...and we thank him, most sincerely!

The Hidden Meaning of Confirmation

There will be those who can cite Hippolytus of Rome at a thousand paces or else give you the stock  Liturgical Commission interpretation of what a Confirmation Service is all about. Yes, it is the moment when someone who was probably baptised as an infant stands before the world to declare their faith for themselves. Yes, it is the time when the Holy Spirit is invoked through the laying-on of hands so that the process begun at baptism is consummated. Yes, those who are in a cynical mood might tell you that it is a neat way of keeping bishops out in parishes, but for me it is far more. 

Tomorrow sees the first Confirmation Service that I have organised as a Vicar. I have put the liturgy together, provided some education and made sure that lemons and rose-water were obtained by a kindly sacristan. I am reliably informed that with twelve candidates it is the  'biggest' confirmation for as many years and we will be celebrating that with our diocesan bishop. It is also, fittingly, our parish harvest festival and just to add more to the mix, the end of a specific period of celebration  for the 150th anniversary of the founding of the parish. 

For the first time since I have been ordained, this confirmation reminds me of my own in 1983. Confirmed by the wonderful (and to this Christian, very special) Peter Ball, it was an occasion not just for my faith, but for everyone else's too. I remember the day, the family celebrations, the parish church's feeling of overwhelming joyfulness, and a whole manner of other things that for this 11 year old, sealed the day firmly in my heart. 

We have a large number of candidates, period - let alone for a small parish church in days when it reputed that church attendance is dwindling (not here, mate). I have a faint concern that we might actually not be able to seat everyone, but I leave that concern un-uttered. We will be a church full of guests and new visitors who will experience a service (I believe) that will rock their socks. Plans are made, rehearsals will happen and the day will arrive - and a 150 people will know how faith in Christ is alive. Twelve wonderful candidates will leave church changed. And so will the rest of us - because I don't believe that anyone who cares enough about the stuff of faith can remain impartial and unchanged when vocations are exposed and blessed. 

In this little church in west London, we celebrate with Leon, Tricia, Quais, Sarah, Miriam, Claire, Heidi, Marie, Roxane, James, Mia and Jeff - for those being confirmed and standing up to be counted as God's Chosen. We celebrate too for our own sake, as this is our day of confirmation too. 

The Bishop Cometh, and That Right Quick

A 600 year old pointy-hat

In the life of this parish, we are fast approaching the day of the confirmations, in a service that also marks Harvest and also the end of our 150 days of celebration marking our 150 anniversary as a parish in Whitton. 

The entire world turns on its axis; the good folk of the parish continue with their lives as ever they did; God is in the heavens and the milk gets delivered - but there is one among us who is stressed. 

Me. 

I have fast recognised that the one primary difference between a suffragan or area bishop and the diocesan one is the amount of stress made manifest in the heart of the incumbent as the day approaches. I respect all bishops equally (and pretty jolly highly too, since you asked), but there is a definite difference in my stress levels when compared to the impending visit of the area bishop earlier this year. I don't know why, but it seems to be a fact. 

I doubt that +Richard would wish for me to be up-tight, and I am sure that the entire day will be as wonderful as I  predict it will be. I think it is also something about this new Vicar welcoming the top-dog of the diocese into the church. As a curate, I got very well used to grunting words about carrying the stick and the hat when men of the episcopate ambled in - also of carrying bags and smiling in the right places - you know, things that all half-decent curates do! This is different. 

For me personally, some stuff from my retailing life is emerging and this present stress is the same as that precipitated by the imminent arrive of senior management who, if they found too much amiss, would geld the store manager with a blunt Stanley.

... and then sack him.

My church is tidy, the booklet nearly made, the catechumens mid-training, the roof water-tight, the safe locked, the cash in the bank, child-protection statement signed and displayed and the cotta ironed. Oddly, for the first time I am sensing a protectiveness on behalf of my 'flock' -will the bishop enjoy them? I am sure he will, as they are warm and wonderful people.  

I think we all seek approval and none less than new Vicars. That my bishop is well known, darned clever, rather tall and knows the Royal Family - it all serves to make this meagre 'young' vicar wonder too whether he will make the grade. Time will tell, I suppose.