It must be at least half my lifetime ago, possibly longer, that I first encountered Christingles, which is scary, because two years ago I introduced them to third different congregation I have known.

Notably missing from the photo is oranges, which will be provided by a local supermarket... thanks to a church member who is employed by them! 

It's been interesting thinking back over more than two decades of leading such services (before that I attended them)... thinking of the magic of singing 'way in a manger' whilst candles are held by small people, watched over by slightly anxious adults... thinking of folk whose dementia led to them eating the oranges (a logical behaviour it has to be said) and the children who blew out the Advent candles... thinking of Victorian churches (Anglican and Baptist) and draughty halls... of those who have grown up and grown beyond such things... and those who have rediscovered them... and of the simplicity and complexity that meet in this symbol.

Looking forward to tomorrow's Christingle and the memories it will create.

Due to needs to swap days around this week -so that Monday was Wednesday and Thursday was Friday - I had the very rare opportunity to take my birthday 'off' and arranged to meet a long standing friend (like 30+ years) who shares my exact birthday and who lives in Glasgow.

The trains ran to time, I enjoyed some good conversation and tasty food, and was safely home by 9p.m.  People deride the Railway Town but it really is the Dubai of the UK rail industry!

Photo near Park Circus, which I took for the dramatic moodiness of the sky as it silhouetted the statue.

As I begin my sixty-fourth circuit of sol, I feel very blessed. 

What a lovely outreach morning... we took part in the Radio Stoke Christmas Coffee morning - a four hour extravaganza fuelled by festive snacks, brews and lots of live music from our house musicians.  Most people also stayed for a soup and sandwich lunch before heading off in to the driech afternoon.

According my head count, 25% of those who came don't attend regularly, and a few regulars were absent.

From 'The Snowman' to 'White Christmas'... from 'O Little Town' to 'Silver Bells' we traversed the landscape of seasonal music, having lots of fun along the way.

Well done everyone who worked so hard, especially E, A and G on guitars and S-J on vocals.

Way back when, we had a Coexist poster on the wayside pulpit at The Gathering Place.  Today I saw this festive version on social media.

The message of Christmas is one of goodwill to all... not just to those who look like me, think like or believe like me.  And that is a tough call... 

Goodwill does not mean that differences don't matter, because some definitely do: some need to be named and called out.

Goodwill is about loving my neighbour, even, or especially, when that's difficult.

Coexistence can be lowest common denominator kind of tolerance... it can also be delight in and celebration of diversity... my hope and aspiration is for the latter, and I try to do my tiny bit to bring it to being.   

I had the privilege of spending two days with something like 60 other Baptist leaders at a retreat centre in Northamptonshire.  As we neared the venue, I remarked to a colleague that my Dad had been a patient at a hospital in Creaton, where the centre was, during the 1970s.  Out of curiosity, I did an internet search, and lo and behold, the retreat centre was in fact the place where the hospital had once stood.

This morning, a group of us went for a walk and passed the URC that had once been paired with the one I attended as a teenager (and which a little bit of research showed me is now part of a partnership of ten churches with two/three ministers.) 

It was curious adding some new and very different memories to a place I had never expected to visit again... seeing how much has changed and how the landscape was actually remarkably similar to how it had been all those long years ago.

None of this was what we were meant to be pondering, but it was interesting to me.