A Winning Tip for All Vicars

If it true that fortune favours the brave, then I am here to offer some proof positive. 

A little while ago, I wrote a little something about the fact that we had done something very risky here at our church. No - nothing quite so risky as unfettered incense and Palestrina (and let's face it, even God has given up favouring incense - He finds that the Choirs Invisible cough too much and are, oddly, all allergic to the smoke). 

And no, I haven't uttered in a Tongue either. There is risk and then there is downright folly (largely because I'd not know that in my Glossolalia whether my syntax and sentence structure were right, and I couldn't live with the not knowing - is it Le Le Le or Lu Lu Lu, for example). 

No, I am talking measured risk, much like getting up in the morning or turning over the starter motor on a petrol combustion engine that seeks only to set fire to petrol somewhere near your kneecaps.

The thing is, we opened our church doors. To our church. We didn't create a rota of helpful welcomers who may, upon the arrival of a newcomer, scowl around behind them. No, we suggested that the church locals might want to pop in on an ad hoc basis and check that the place was alright - and do that other deeply risky thing and go into a church on a day that doesn't start with an S and rhyme with Monday. Heaven forfend that we might suggest a mid-week booster! However, the church was opened, the valuable stuff (like Sacristans and former Wardens) were locked away for safe-keeping, and it happened. 

People

Came

In

You heard it here. People came in. And not just tourists (although there are some those too), but people who wanted to engage with a sacred space and the presence of God that they sought within. 

Of all the things that have changed here since the new Vicar pitched up - it is this that has proven to be the most successful. The Vicar has now booked three weddings purely because the couples in question found the doors open when they were looking around for places that could host their special day. We have also had a funeral here on the same basis for a lovely lady who simply wanted her local church to be open the day her beloved man died - and found it open. She told me that she had never been in before - but when the time came, we were ready and open and accommodating. 

I know that there are some of my brothers and sisters in Christ who have yet to take this risk (and yes, it is a risk). However, I absolutely and categorically believe that it is as much a contributory factor in the growth in numbers here as any other thing. Frankly, if I lose a couple of candle-sticks a year I will still be in spiritual credit and the insurance company are right behind the endeavour too. 

If you have any say in any church, do one thing ...

Open your Doors. 

There will be a dozen excuses and many reasons why it would be too great a risk. However, looking at it the other way - would you risk a seeker passing by because they couldn't come in? Baubles or Disciples - the choice is that simple. 

Michael Rosen and Our Redemption

  

This film features the wonderful Michael Rosen reading his equally wonderful "We're Going on A Bear Hunt", one of the twins' favourite books. She can recite the entire book, word perfect! Have a listen, it's a joy to watch, truly!

I was offering the Sacred Mysteries the other day and for various reasons opted for Common Worship Eucharistic Prayer A. I have recited this prayer on many occasions, but until this week hadn't noticed the stress on the idea of something being through something else. As it struck me, Michael Rosen wasn't far behind with this rather catchy story - you can't go over it; you can't go under it; you gotta go through it. 

In the Eucharistic Prayer to which I refer, there are three ways in which we focus on this notion of "through". First is God, present "through" Jesus, the next being our redemption "through" Jesus' earthly existence and thirdly, our place as adopted children in God's Kingdom "through" Jesus. This could (and had done to me until this week) seem like a semantic nicety, and thereby missing the point completely.

Michael Rosen demonstrates well that "through" is a committed pathway to take. Under or over is about bypassing something, not engaging with it. "Through" is also the hardest pathway to take. We weren't redeemed alongside Jesus' sacrifice. We haven't been adopted despite or in association with the person of Jesus. God isn't present with us in a kind of happy double-act. These things happen "through" Jesus and the importance of the visual aspect of that are significant too. "Through" is evocative of something pierced, something broken, something smashed - with risks to us who do the passing through. In the moment when we are passing "through" we are wholly consumed, surrounded. No evasion, so circumlocution, no bush-beating - just a committed act. 

What is implicit in Rosen's story and perhaps more explicit in the Eucharistic Prayer (once I got it) is that a journey that passes through something else is more meaningful. When the risk is confronted and the destination reached, it is a journey that can imply success over adversity or, in the case of the prayer, a journey the cleanses and saves, not simply a pleasant excursion. 

Looking Up The Noses of the Dead and Dying

Once upon a time, newsreaders sat at desks and, decked in the nattiest tweeds and with the crispest hairdos, would tell the story of the world's ills. Their deportment was often graver than the news reported, but that was to be expected. 

But not no more. 

It seems to be that since television channels have proliferated (and with little effort I have 80 or 90 channels that I never watch instead of just two or three) that the programmes that they broadcast have had to try very hard to stand out from the pack. New programmes are no different. 

No more Angela Ripon. No more Alistair Burnett. No more that bloke who went on to present Treasure Hunt with Anneka Rice's bum. Even the lovely Moira Stewart is relegated to early-time radio (though seems to have far more fun with Mr Evans et al than ever she did before a camera). Things changed and Terry Lloyd became the first symptom of this new style or reporting the news. 

Now me, I am happy to take the word of the Orla Guerins and Fergal Keanes of this world when they say that terrible things happened in the far flung places of the world. I am happy at that. They tell me a tale, I will take it as reported (foolishly perhaps, you may say), but that is no longer sufficient for the world's audience. 

A little while ago, some vile people blew up some innocent people in their cars. There was all the carnage that you might expect, with some hapless TV news reporter reporting it to the world, flak-jacket adorned, mid-carnage, stepping over smouldering bits of metal and rubber and dead people. I have seen enough mid-cremated human bodies to know what they look like, and at 6pm (or a similarly early hour in the evening) I beheld the smouldering and hard-to-identify remain of three separate people. The reporter stated the obvious - that people died - and did so treading on and pushing past their remains. 

Then you get the other phenomenon - the reporter dodging actual 'murder-death-kill' bullets so that the news is coming from the armpit of the local militia. Not satisfied with being close enough to the action to hear it, they become part of the problem and a person needful of bodily protection, so that they can assume the physical space of the purported victims. "Look at me, I am going to be shot at now...". Why? Why? Why?

Is it me? Is it my fault (as a member of the news consuming public) that apparently sensible people have to actually risk actual life to tell me a story. Only recently a eye-patched reporter was atomised out of existence to the consternation of many praying Christians who seemed to want to hold vigils and the like for her. Why was she in harm's way? She was a reporter, not a peace-keeper. Are reporters required to be action heroes?

Terry Lloyd's daughter (whom I have met, and she is very pleasant) lost a father because of what? The news headlines that I have long forgotten! Is it me? Watch this space as we prepare to have Coffin-Cam and the dishevelled figure of a journo descending into the ground as s/he sits atop the descending casket of a famous dead person. Mark my words, it'll happen.

Risk Averse

If Jesus walked the Earth today ...

Mark 1: 16ff

As Jesus passed along the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the sea - for they were ocean-fruits collection operatives. (They were were not bending at the waist, but at the knee as prescribed by the Regulations.)

And Jesus said to them, "Follow me and I will make you fish for people." And immediately they consulted their diaries and their work-place mentors, left their nets and told Jesus that due to the increasing demands of business rates, the needs of the family and lack of formal written notice, that they must decline. Added to this, their nets were not built to EC Net v1.068 standards and therefore not properly constructed to fish for people, or indeed any creature weighing more than 10 kilos. Subject to agreement with their trade union, a ballot and the obligatory thirteen week notice period (and after a full consultation period), they felt that they may be able to agree, but only if the pay rates were above the Minimum National Wage, their pension rights were preserved and their full golf schedule may not be impeded. Jesus sighed and wished he hadn't asked. 

As he went a little farther, he saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John, who were in their boat mending their nets. Immediately he called them but because he was not wearing a high-viz jacket he was ignored. Following a committee meeting, a vote and a further inquiry, they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men (feeling sure that under new Ageism regulations and gender discrimination rules they would lose their business anyway), and followed him. 

The Risks of Blogging

This is the thing ... we buy us a computer, we flick the switch, lights flash and things are possible. Some people play Risk other people play with risk. Some people move money or stare at piccies of the kiddies. Others think a think and write it down in a box, press 'publish' and go to bed. 

Blogging is something that I am trying to work out. I am a long way from a resolution, so continue until I am either fully convinced of its rightness, or conversely, reach the moment when I shudder, have a word with myself, and cease fire. 

I can understand why people read blogs. Oddly, though, I cannot fully understand why we write them. Does that sound daft? Tough. Some stuff has reached my attention this week that has reminded me in stark terms that this is a risky old business. Let me tell you why.

1. When we write, we are often sat alone in a room. We think our think, we splurge it across our computer screen and then send it to the whole world, without moderation, editorial advice or even a moment to assess the sense in what is written. It seems to me to be unique in the written arts. Authors of printed material will never have a book read once without the input of others. Why the input? To measure credibility, accuracy, potency and valency. More importantly, they are the ones who will warn you off a pathway. Blogging is like a journey without a map, done at speed. We travel across terrain that we know only in part, that is riddled with mines - all the while hoping that we will survive. 

2. What we say of ourselves is never just a matter for ourselves, unless we live in a hermitage. Our past deeds, good or ill, have had effects on others, and they often have a voice in those events. Blog fodder is not value-free in that regard. I may love telling you that my kids daub poo in one another's hair, but they have no opportunity to have a 'say' in whether or not Blog Dad tells the entire population of humanity about it. Bloggers sometimes run the risk of reducing the rights of others in the accounts they/we give, especially when those events caused pain even decades previously. Other people are always implicit in what we write about, often voicelessly, often without a say. 

3. If I ran the risk of personal affront or insult every time I walked down the street, I would choose not to. Yet we bloggists run that risk with every post we publish. We could talk about something innocuous but have the comments boxes hijacked. A co-blogger has found this out recently, much to his sadness, I think. Since I left school, I have only ever been properly insulted in blog comments. Why is this so? Because commenters too sit in a room alone with a computer. Insulting people like that is easy; quite unlike in the flesh when I would be far less likely to be name-called! 

4. I have said it before, and I shall say it again. When we press 'publish', we bloggerising folkses know well what we meant. What is received by those who read the post is quite beyond our control. This is largely a matter dealt with in comments - but sometimes it isn't. Hurt and upset caused unintentionally is doubly hurtful, because neither party wants it. Lack of eye contact, a poor choice of words perhaps, an 'in joke' that doesn't travel  - they all get splatted on our blogs sometimes - and run a very specific risk!

5. What we say may haunt us. If we are lucky, it is a good thing. Sometimes, it won't be. I am endlessly surprised that my most 'read' post was an ill-planned never-commented-on piece written in haste on a Sunday. Well over a thousand separate views of that have been made. I would never have predicted that. There is nothing to say that my words won't come back to haunt me in a decade or twenty years time. Bloggers run the risk of time. We need also to write to people in ages to come - we have no idea what will happen to our material in the end. 

A few thoughts, and a list that could grow. But for now, I will stop tapping and let you finish reading!