Today I've been working on Sunday's service which will be based around Pslam 126 and Revelation 21: 1 - 7.  As I was reading some commentary on the psalm, I found the song 'I dreamed a dream' from Les Miserables came into my mind, so in the end the sermon will juxtapose Fantine's hopelessness with Christian hopefulness despite the hurt and struggle.

There's a lot that resonates in Fantine's song that will be woven into the sermon:

I dreamed a dream in time gone by
When hope was high
And life worth living
I dreamed that love would never die
I dreamed that God would be forgiving
Then I was young and unafraid
And dreams were made and used and wasted

I guess almost anyone over 40 can identify with some of those sentiments, and also these, later in the song:

But there are dreams that cannot be
And there are storms we cannot weather

In ending my sermon I've tried to use these two lines as the start of a (plagiarism?) that has a more Christisn hope to it.  It needs tweaking before Sunday, but here it is as it stands...

True, there are dreams that cannot be

And there are storms we cannot weather

But if Christ is at our side

At least we’ll face these things together

We have a hope that keeps us strong:

The promise of a new creation.

Until then we’ll walk by faith –

And trust in One who keeps their promise:

An end to death and tears and pain;

An endless spring of living water;

Forever in the love of God:

The dream which keeps our hope alive!

That was the title of yesterday's invitation service - half way between Candlemas and Shrove Tuesday for those who know their liturgical calendar, the day after Valentine's Day for those who operate in another plane.  I was impressed by what the 'Gang of Four' had done, finding hymns that linked Christmas and Easter ("Thou didst leave Thy throne" and "in a byre near Bethlehem"), using a couple of OT Messianic prophecies (Isaiah 9; Micah 5) and linking them things about love (1 John 4; 1 Corinthians 13).  My talky bit had anticipated the links they wanted to make, so I'd arrived with suitable props - candles, flowers, chocolates, wine (don't tell the school!) and 'love hearts' sweets.  My tack was along the lines of gifts we give to people we love - so everyone received a tealight (hey, I trained at Northern...) and was offered chocolate; one person was given the flowers for her sick daughter, a visitor went home with a bottle of wine, and the sweets hinted at love-letters.  These were then compared with the wonder of the gifts God gives - star-spangled night-time skies, choirs of birds to herald the new day, flowers in endless variety carelessly strewn across the meadows and popping up in the cracks and crevices of derelict buildings, food and drink in flavours beyond our counting.  Then I moved on to the idea that better than cards, flowers, wine and chocolates is the gift of ourselves, our time, our love, our friendship and so on.  And so with God, incarnate in Christ Jesus.  Events in the UK and Australia over the past weeks have shown the depths of human selfless love - someone trying to rescue a sibling who has fallen through the ice; whole communities banding together to try to avert the consequences of raging bush-fires.  So it is with God's love in Christ. Writing it down it all sounds a bit twee and naff - but it felt OK at the time.  One of the visitors said it was the nicest church service they'd ever been to, and one ninety-something who'd for some reason thought she was being taken to a garden centre left with a lovely smile on her face.

As outreach I'm not entirely sure how to measure it.

A good half of our normal folk weren't there, and of those who were only five had brought anyone with them.  Out of 32 people (so someone told me) there were 11 guests and 3 people whose links with the church are rather tenuous.  So, proportionally, it was pretty good.  In terms of 'back to church' infleunce then, yes, there were three and that's a good thing.  In terms of people with no other church link there were possibly four, and that's good too.  Which means four belong to other churches - so hopefully they've been inspired to try something similar themselves.

One thing that troubled me, and always troubles me with churches, is cliqueishness.  We all sat cafe style around tables which was great, but everyone (apart from me and the two tea-ladies) stayed where they were - noone else from church went to talk to the visitors or even to each other.  Whilst I didn't mind those who'd brought people staying with them, I was not so chuffed about others sitting with their own little clique and phoning or texting!  Someone told me off for eating standing up - said I'd get indigestion - but how else was I to get round and talk to people?  I just wonder how other churches handle this aspect.

The best bit was, I think, enjoying the growing confidence of the 'Gang of Four' who will hopefully be encouraged to do something again in the autumn.  Room for further development, but overall a good day.