Yesterday the baptistery at Railway Town Baptist Church was opened up ahead of Sunday's service.  It is very generously sized, especially as it is the original Victorian.  It passes under the pulpit, and there is a rear door - through a cupboard - into what was once upon a time a corridor leading to meeting rooms (now opened up into a single decent sized space).

On Sunday it will be full of - hopefully warm - water ready for two people to be Baptised.  This is an exciting and wonderful occasion, and I for one am looking forward to it.  More photos to follow in due course.

Yesterday in college chapel, we were invited to reflect on the words of Revelation 21 in conjunction with a piece of writing I first came across when I lived in Leicestershire, and which I shared in worship very early in my time in Glasgow.  It was interesting to see a photo of a place I have walked countless times, and from where I even recorded a reflection on St Mungo.  It was joyful to see people hear it for the first time - and that our one true Scot among the students read it for us.  It bears another sharing...

The New Glasgow

I saw a vision - it was last Thursday at eleven o'clock in the morning:

I was standing on the Necropolis, looking down over the city;

and the cold blue winter sky broke open above my head

and the Spirit of God breathed on my eyes

and my eyes were opened.

I saw Glasgow, the holy city, coming down out of heaven;

shining like a rare jewel, sparkling like ‘clear water in the eye of the sun’;

and all the sickness was gone from the city,

there were no more suburbs and schemes;

no difference between Bearsden and Drumchapel.

I saw the Clyde running with the water of life,

as bright as crystal,

as clear as glass,

            the children of Glasgow swimming in it.

And the Spirit showed me the tree of life

growing on Glasgow Green.

I looked out and there were no more homeless people,

 no more women working the streets,

no more needles up the closes,

HIV and AIDS were things of the past,

there were no more racist attacks,

no more gay bashing,

no more rapists,

no more stabbings,

no more Protestants and Catholics,

no more IRA graffiti, no more Orange marches,

because there was no more hate!

And I saw women walking safe at nights,

saw the men were full of passion and gentleness,

that none of the children were ever abused,

because the people's sex was full of justice and of joy.

I saw an old woman throw back her head

and laugh like a young girl;

and when the sky closed back, her laughter rang in my head

for days and days

and would not go away.

This is what I saw, looking over the Gallowgate,

Looking up from the city of death;

And I knew then that there would be a day of resurrection,

And I believe

that there will be a day of resurrection.

 Doug Gay

I took this photo back in 2020, at a time when everyone's biggest concern was the severe winter storms that were bringing high winds and flooding.  It was week one of what would become the 'sabbatical that never was' and I was walking the Whithorn Way, a very poorly defined pilgrimage route in the south west of Scotland.  Walking up hill on a metalled path, I saw this chalked message.  I liked it then, and I like it still.

The importance of stopping 'to smell the roses' or to admire the view.  The value of pausing even in the midst of busyness to enjoy the moment.  And, I'd suggest, the need to do so even - or maybe especially - when it is dull or stormy.

The psalmist says God says, 'stop what you are doing and focus on me' or words to that effect.  Take a break, admire the view, and find yourself drawn to one in whom it has its origin... sounds like a good idea to me!