For the last four years we have held our services at 3p.m.  as a compromise time between the old times of 10:30a.m. and 6p.m.  Today we start a new pattern - 10a.m. on the first two Sundays, 3 p.m. on the second two Sundays  and 10 a.m. if there's a fifth Sunday in the month.  Despite having chosen this pattern - or at least agreed to it - already a few are grumbling about the 10a.m. start time as 'too early' and we haven't even tried it.  For those of us who are setting up it means a 9a.m. start, which in turn means an 8:30 a.m. car load etc etc.

So, here I am, up bright and early 'suited and booted' and ready for action.  I think I will enjoy the change - people might arrive a little dozy but at least they won't want their after dinner nap in the sermon; people might rush off to cook their carrots (though I hope they don't) but they can't moan about having the whole day taken up by church (heaven forbid!).  I had intended to do a couple of hours' work before church but a leisurely bowl of porridge and a whirl round the 'traps' put paid to that idea.  Even so, it is rather pleasant to have some time when the world is still sleeping just to be or to do stuff uninterrupted.

The afternoon will be work time - I have an essay I desperately need to get started with and spent all of yesterday afternoon sketching out a plan for (at four sides of hand written A4 it is about 15% of the word count in titles and notes), and I am looking forward to that too.

On the radio this morning the 6:40a.m. (yes, such a time does exist on a Sunday) Pause for Thought was about 'change' with the speaker wisely observing, people don't like change but they adapt to it pretty well.  I think that's true of my little church - change is almost our middle name nowadays and, despite the premature grumbles, I am pretty confident that we will adapt to this change fairly well.  People will need to be careful to turn up at the right time on the right day, but I'm sure we'll cope - and if it doesn't work, well we can change it again!

One of my folk recently emails me to ask if I'd be willing to read a book (on a very thorny topic) and give my opinion.  That was a compliment in itself.  The message went on: ' I've always respected your common sense approach to scripture, whether it's what I want to hear or not!' - I think that's a great compliment.

One to 'treasure up in my heart' I think.

Whilst doing my supermarket shop today, I picked up the in-store magazine.  The editor's letter began thus:

I spied an EVANGELICAL gleam in the cookery team's EYES when they were asked to think credit crunch cuisine for this special issue.

I did a double take because the first word to catch the eye was Evangelical, in capitals, in orange (which may be deliberate given which supermarket it was).  I realise we have St Delia, and that Jamie has at least been beatified by now (and both are associated with said supermarket) but it did make me pause to see the term used in relation to food.

As it happens, four letter words not withstanding, I think Jamie is a great evangelist for his cause, and has all the same frustrations that Christians face:

Jesus - make disciples of all nations teaching them everything I have taught you

Jamie - pass it (a recipe idea) on, if everyone tells two people it'll be done in no time

If only...

Just maybe, as I pause to ponder, the magazine editor is on to something important.  What if our church newsletters began

I spied an EVANGELICAL gleam in the leadership team's EYES when they were asked to think missional responses to the credit crunch  for this year?

Hmm.

This morning I was at the crematorium we sometimes use that's just about in either Derbyshire or Staffordshire to conduct a service for someone who lived in Skegness but died in Dibley.  Such is the logic of life!

The weather was inclement - foggy and near freezing, and the timing meant that the school run would be still active when I set off from home, hence an early start.  For whatever reason the traffic was uncharacteristically light and I arrived with a good forty minutes before service time.  I got chatting to the chapel manager (or whatever they're called) about some of the weird and wonderful things that happen in services these days.  He's a lovely chap who happens to be a member of a highly conservative Baptist church that is not in Union or Association, so sometimes being in his role is a definite challenge.  He told me of a service where someone had requested something by Eminem (is that spelled right, I haven't a clue!) the minister officiating had said he'd allow an instrumental but not the vocal version, however the family insisted and their word carried sway.  He had struggled with this and felt the song (littered with expletives) was totally inappropriate for the setting.  He then told me about a pagan ceremony earlier this week - priest in clerical looking robes, mourners in long robes adorned with various symbols, and a service conducted with dignity and respect; he'd had a good and respectful conversation with the pagan priest, in the course of which he'd been able to express his own views.  After this he told me how his views had changed in the time he'd worked at the crematorium - he had arrived intending to be 'straight down the line' and nothing to do with anything that wasn't, but had learned that actually his task was to show God's love by treating everyone with respect and dignity, no matter who or what.  This guy is a conservative evangelical who has learned a wonderful lesson of grace, and I'm sure his gentle presence and quiet witness to what he believes is more Godly than he can ever imagine.

My funeral party arrived and the service went off conventionally with cheesy music in and out and boring hymns sung almost solo; I spoke of a God of grace and mercy and of the defeat of evil and death by Christ as well as sharing  few reminiscences from his friends.  This, too, was a witness to God's love, as a stranger was shown dignity and commended to God's eternal mercy and grace.

It is easy to take for granted, and even to moan about, crematorium staff - but I am glad to know that in this place, as in many others, followers of Jesus embody something of his grace.

I am currently reading Mission Shaped Questions: Defining Issues for Today's Church ed. Steven Croft, London, Church House Publishing, 2008, which is proving interesting and helpful as well as annoying in thought provoking ways (which I think means it's worth reading).  Part of my annoyance is the assumption of paedo-baptising fairly hierarchical traditions, and the fact that credo-baptising congregationally organised traditions aren't mentioned much and seemingly aren't writing or thinking so much in this area.  I am finding little links with my interest in denominational history and church health (woo hoo, or words to that effect) and enjoying their making - but then based on one of the quotes below, that makes me the right kind of person for this kind of emergent/fresh expression/practical theology type of thinking, so maybe it's inevitable.

Anyway, here are my fave four so far...

John Drane, p 96

Frustrated clergy find themselves running a spiritual hospice while all the time God is moving the waters in the birthing pool

John Drane, citing Daniel Pink, p 99

what we need today are 'creators and empathisers, pattern recognizers, and meaning makers... artists, storytellers, caregivers, consolers, big picture thinkers'

[I'd like to think I'm a 'pattern recognizer' and one who endeavours to be a 'meaning maker']

John Drane (again!) on history, p 95

As part of his discussion on maturity (now there's a good sign of a 'healthy church'):

From a purist historical perspective, I can sympathize with those scholars who argue that what we know about such ancient times [Celtic] is too insubstantial to bear the weighty reconstructions of Christian spirituality that are now being placed upon it.  But from a missiological point of view, these arguments entirely miss the point.  For when a culture finds that the meta-narrative that it one took for granted is either untrue, or merely unserviceable in changed circumstances, it is natural that we look back into our own story in the effort to find new paradigms that might inspire us for the future.  Faced with the diminishing prospects of the people of God, the Hebrew prophets repeatedly looked back to more ancient times and reinterpreted an old story (usually the exodus narrative) for new circumstances. The historical knowledge of the exodus available to Isaiah or Jeremiah must have been just as flimsy as our certain knowledge of the Celtic era, but that never stopped them reshaping the story.  In a different way, and on the basis of more certain historical knowledge, the New Testament evangelists did something similar with the stories of Jesus.  When the emerging Church looks to ancient times for patterns of organic spirituality and then remodels them in the light of new circumstances, this is just the latest phase in a very old story.

(Emphasis mine)

Angela Tilby, p 79

Also on history and adding a note of caution

I want to argue against the idea that history exists for us as a kind of simultaneous present from which we can construct whatever patterns we like or find meaningful.  My key point is that the identity of the Church is constituted by the fact that it lives in time.  In a very real sense the Church is its history.

(Emphasis original)

I think that maybe there's a kind of both/and here - the Church is its history (a bit like that mobile phone advertisement that says 'I am...' all the people I've encountered) but it can and, I'd argue, should also reinterpret its history for new circumstances and new, Godly, purposes.  Simply knowing our past does not give us maturity any more than knowing Bible stories; only by making connections, engaging creatively and seeing patterns with the bigger picture can we grow and mature.  Or so ends my sermon to myself for today!