According to a friend of mine, the expression 'selah' which appears on many of the Psalms is a mucial direction equivalent to the pause sign we used nowadays on manuscript.  A bit more than the apostrophe type sign that means 'breathe' for choristers of wind players, a bit more important than the bowing direction sign for string players or fingerings for pianists.

Selah.  Pause.  (Or, as in Psalm 46 - stop!  desist! If only for a moment)

I've just had most of two days doing just that.  Meeting friends (I hope they are happy to be counted such) in Knutsford, Warrington and Manchester.  Catching up on news, sharing food and laughter (in various combinations) - it has been good.  It has also been a reflection of reallife, in all its mixed experiences.

At Christmas Lunch (I had beef - too early for turkey!) with my nuclear industry former colleagues it was noticeable that some familiar faces among the 'retireds' were absent, ill heath and age take their toll.  There was a realisation that next year, some of those present this year probably won't be.  I always enjoy meeting this crowd, and am touched that they choose to invite me back (apparently God is not counted as a competitor employer!).  It was good to chat to some of the lads I'd trained, now confident and competent in their roles; interesting to discover someone I recruited is now a team leader.  It was sad to hear of disillusionment, of anxieties over the future, of people signed off with stress (what happened to the happy company I worked for?).  I left reminded that these are people I still love after all this time, people who still, from time to time, contact me for a bit of support, people who remain part of my life, my ministry.  I was asked today if I missed that life, and the truth is that I don't, though I was a bloomin' good risk assessor (if I say myself, who shouldn't!).  I miss the camraderie, the banter, and the knowledge that, if push came to shove, these people were there for each other.  Could have been a good church really...!

An overnight with a long standing friend and space just to blob out, drink tea and unwind.  As I type I'm having a Theresa of Avila moment (rats!) that I wrote something very similar last year, and probably the year before that.  The church of which this friend is a member has had a very stressful year, and the future is far from clear, though there are some exciting possibilties opening up.  Having been in membership of that church myself, and it having a special place in my own story, it is sad to watch what is being experienced, and to hear of the ongoing hurts and hurting that happens.  So, good to catch up, good to relax, but again a tinge of sadness.

Then in to Manchester to see my longsuffering research supervisor who manages to make sense of my late night typing and then to turn it into sensible ideas.  I went with two aims - I wanted to be told I needed to put in more time to my research work, and I wanted to be told I could make a case to go to a different summer conference.   I came away with both achieved, so I came away happy!  (Though we failed to fix a date for another meeting, so my organisation genes are twitching!!).  It was good to hear a little of what is going on in college life, another place I hold quite dear, and to discover that the future is looking like another increase in student numbers.  Good also to catch up with one or two other tutors/staff albeit briefly.

All too soon, back home and a pile of emails, phone calls and post to deal with - can I print more leaflets for this, you need more chairs for that, how about this last minute addition to the other.  The pause is over, and normality, such as it is, returns.

I think I know that I need to spend less time blogging and more time researching, but I also know that I need more time that is 'me' time - time to be, time to relax, time to share with the numerous people whose lives overlap with mine.  Selah; pause.

This spoke to me when I read it this afternoon.  If I didn't see you when I was passing through the North West, I am truly sorry, I simply don't have a time machine.  Whoever you are, wherever you are, thank you for your friendship during another manic year in the life of Catriona.

Last night and the GB nativity went off surprisingly well.  In some bizarre kind of miracle, all the girls turned up, including a few we hadn't seen for several weeks so we had a full (or, actually, extended) complement of five angels, four wise people, three sheep, two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree.  Well, not the last two, but you get my drift.

Miracle number two was that every girl had a parent or relative there, some had several - usually many girls are dropped off, with parents aksing what time they should collect them, which makes me sad.  There were also a good smattering of church people, including the church's minister - excellent.  It was, in the end standing room only, breached fire regs (so Catriona mumbled a bit, like a good risk assessor should, before deciding we were OK on a 'time at risk' basis!!) and a great atmosphere.

Not too much went wrong, one narrator was losing her voice by the end of the performance, and one person failed spectacularly to fulfil her role of moving Mary's chair for her, but it was full of funny and 'ah' moments for parents.  Like all good GB leaders, I was proud of 'my' girls - all 25 of them - who do at least know that Jesus was born in 'Befflee-em.'

Now almost two days 'bunking off' to Warrington/Manchester before "outreach, outreach, outreach!"

I lot of ministers I know are currently feeling frazzled. 

For some it is huffy congregation members taking up their mats and walking - presumbly to the place where the dress code, worship style or service time suits their current preferences.

For some it is the sheer pressure of fifty million service to prepare, meeting umpteen different sets of needs and desires.

For some it is leading funerals for the parents of other, more experienced, nominally more senior, ministers.

For some it is horrendous pastoral crises with massive implications, legally and socially

For some it is trying to be a good wife/husband/parent/child/friend at a time when energy is low and demands high

For some it is personal ill health or fatigue

And these are just the ones I know about!

Here in Dibley there are pastoral issues, deaths, services and familial juggling to be accommodated - it is just like anywhere else.  yesterday I needed BU advice on a pastoral issue I'm handling; today the adviser sent me a little cartoon type picture (which simply will not copy) with the words "in the dark streets shines the everlasting light"

Whatever the clouds and darkness are, however frazzled we might feel, the darkness hasnot, and cannot understand or defeat the light.

If you're a frazzled minister, and many of you are, I pray God's peace for you this day, this season, and the strength to face each moment assured that even if it feels like a time of deep depsair and darkness, even if your nights are sleepless and your days unbearable, the God who, in Jesus, promises to be with you ALWAYS, is dependable and trustworthy.

I believe in the sun when it isn't shining

I believe in love when I cannot feel it

I believe in God, though God be silent.

(Jewish ghetto prayer, adapted)

 

Last night some Baps and Meths met to plan the Churches Together Chrismas Day service - church flavour three sent apologies at the last minute but were "willing to do something if you ask us".  That made me a little sad as it feeds the view that we are not really together.  That said we had a fun time planning and now have songs/carols from..... three books!  This means song sheets/projection which is great as no one can say their book was/wasn't used!!!

Among the songs we are using is the Iona one which, in BPW starts with 'Shepherds watch and wise men wonder' (actually BPW as swapped over verses one and two and omitted verse three!)  We will use the BPW version as it is more accessible and feels more like a Christmas song.  (In case you don't know it, the tune is Scarlet Ribbons and the words can readily be found on the internet)

Here is an alternative verse three...

 

Baptists work and Methodists labour

In the name of Christ, our King,

In a little place called "Dibley"

To host great Christmas gatherings.

In the school, the pub, the chapel

Food and laughter, word and prayer:

God surprises us with heaven

As we sing "Good News" again.

This cartoon was published in the Independent in December 2004 and really spoke to me.  Each year since then  at some point during Advent I have fished it out and reflected on it again.  Hopefully the nice people at the Independent will not sue me for posting this scanned image.

December 2004 was my first Christmas in Dibley.  I gave photocpoies of the cartoon to my congregation members to ponder in the morning service of (I think) 19th December (either that or 12th) and it was quite well received.  Someone just on the very periphery of church (now and then) who has severe mental health issues told me she found the image helpful; friends visiting over the Christmas period who never darken the door of the church seeing it on my office noticeboard said 'wow, that's powerful.'  It is.

Four years on it is no less relevant as a source for reflection.  In this country, people affected by spring/summer floods are still in temporary accommodation, farmers have once more lost their livestock and face an uncertain future, violent crmie seems to increase (or become more widely reported) and drunken behaviour and ASBOs are seen as badges of honour.  Across the world poverty, disease, corruption, human trafficking etc blight the lives of countless millions...

What do you dream of this Christmas?

Yet with the woes of sin and strife

The world has suffered long

Beneath the angel strain have rolled

Two thousand years of wrong

And man, at war with man, hears not

The love-song which they bring:

So hush your noise, you men of strife,

And hear the angels sing.