Next week 2000 or so of us will arrive in Plymouth for the English Baptist Assembly (known hereabouts as the BUGB Assembly).  I am looking forward to it; in a perverse way I'm even looking forward to being irritated by certain parts of it, because that's what makes it the thing it is.  I will state up front that I am rather disappointed that the In Memoriam has been relegated to the Monday morning when we know a lot of people will have already left (but am glad it isn't Friday night when I won't have arrived).  I hope that people will make the effort to get involved in the Public Resolutions session - the issues being discussed are important - but again they are on Monday morning so many may opt out.

Good bits will include meeting friends and feeling connected to this crazy family.  Hoping for coffee with, among others, Ruth, Julie, Lucy and Diane; to cheer (or not) Andy, Simon, Kez, Vanessa and Theo; to say 'hi' to bloggers; to reunite with NB(L)C and EMBA/NWBA friends and a whole raft of RMs; to eat icecream on the Ho, Ho, Ho (as a former work colleague called it); and obviously to be inspired and refreshed for ministry in a northern outpost of this kind of Baptistness.

Lurkers, commenters, fellow-bloggers do say 'hi' if you see me there and I look forward to seeing you all.

On Monday I was at college as a student, learning about mentoring.

Last night I had a leadership team meeting where we talked, among other things, about ongoing ministerial support and development.

Today I am at college being a facilitator, teaching about leadership.

So that all fits togther quite nicely.

Tomorrow I am spending a lot of time on a train going to a university to talk about their teaching and my learning/researching... or the mutual lack thereof.

In between times I have a service on Church memebrship to complete, preparations for which are proving fun (in a good way not an ironic one).  A few people last Sunday said they'd learned a lot from my Baptism sermonettes, so I hope this week lives up to expectations.

So a busy week one way and another, but enjoyable.

Always interesting to see what raises debate on a blog (apart from my inability to type proper English or accurately to proof read that which I have typed).  Is 'tablet,' or is it not, 'approximately the same as fudge'?  I think the answer lies in your the definition of approximately.  A whole five minutes of online research of recipes reveals the following...

Ingredients for Tablet:

Milk

Condensed milk

Sugar

Butter

Ingredients for Fudge:

Milk

Condensed milk (usually)

Sugar (may be demerara)

Butter

In most recipes the quantities are identical, though for some forms of fudge the sugar content is half that of tablet (which is why the latter is that obviously preferred by dentists).  The only substantive difference seems to be that whilst fudge is cooked for 20 minutes, tablet is cooked for 45; clearly Scots are more patient.

Anyway, it's time this debate was laid to rest.  We don't want to have a further split in the church over confectionery heresies!

Among my least-liked hymns is the BWA favourite, 'Blessed be the tie that binds,' a hymn that for me is overly sentimental and somewhat mawkish (which may be tautologous but hey).  The story of how John Fawcett was all set to leave his Yorkshire congregation, wrote this hymn for his final service, reduced everyone, himself included, to tears, and so opted to remain is one of those that manages to annoy me.  What of the poor congregation who believed they had discerned God's call for this man to lead them?  What of the church he had elelcted to leave but resolved to stay?

And yet.

Yesterday morning our choir used the opening verse as our introit, and nothing could have been more appropriate to the theme we were exploring or more obviously a hint to me of God's hand on proceedings.

The first of a two-week glance at some aspects of Baptist identity, it was right to open with something written by a Baptist and valued by Baptists world-wide.  As part of the service, I shared part of the story of the one Baptism I have conducted, and as the choir sang, some connections with that, albeit convoluted came to mind.  As part of her testimony my candidate spoke movingly of the inspiration of her step-daughter-in-law who had died two months earlier, after a rapidly progressing cancer, and whose faith had enabled her to face death with courage and dignity.  At that funeral, one of the hymns chosen by the family was 'Blessed be the tie that binds.'  Fleetingly I was carried to those occasions, linked once more to the Church of all times and places.

The closing hymn I chose was 'O Jesus, I have promised' one that can be overworked, but which is well-loved for Baptisms and receptions into membership.  It has many memories for me - places and people who shared parts of my journey before our paths diverged.  As I looked around, it was clear that for many other people connections were being made with other places and times, perhaps loved ones no longer with us, perhaps markers on their own faith journey. By the time I shared the Aaronic blessing (it seemed fitting) there were a few red eyes to be seen: ties, links, connections beyond time and place within the mystery that is the Church 'militant and triumphant.'

I'm not suddenly going to like this hymn, but yesterday it worked in a new way for me.  Beyond the mawkish sentimentality that permeates the myth, I glimsped something more real, something of the union in Christ of which it is easy to speak but hard to grasp.  Blessed be the tie that binds, not humanly, but spiritually, those who bear the name of Christ.

This morning was the penultimate session of the mentor course I am doing.  I was in my element because it was some of the theorectical underpinning which suits my theorist-reflector learning style (based on the Honey and Mumford model).  So it was bound to be fun for me, if for no-one else.

Part of the input was a version of Kolb's cycle for experiential learning, unsurprisingly part of the theoretical underpining of the pastoral cycle. (OK if you're not interested in theory, theology or educational stuff now is a good time to stop reading!).  What leaped out as I looked at the diagram offered was the potential parallel between Kolb's four stages and H&M's four styles of pragmatist, reflector, theorist and activist, which got my creative juices flowing quite well. [As an aside having now just Googled H&M I discover this is not accidental but actually it is a development of K; rats, I thought I'd discovered something].

What struck me especially is that when I undertake pastoral-cycle style exercises the bit I find most difficult is actions phase, or in Kolb's model the 'active experimentation.'  Making the connection that the fact that I am not an naturally 'active learner' may make this almost inevitable was remarkably freeing - I don't need to feel so bad about it.  Likewise, for people who are less naturally drawn to theory or reflection or pragmatism, other stages of the cycle may be more problematic.

All of which seems to be why communal theological reflection ought to be a good thing.  In a group there ought, on balance, to be people whose inclinations and styles fit better to different parts of the process.  If people feel safe enough to enage with the process, aceepting their limitations as well as their strengths, it could be very 'deep' and extremely creative.  The difficulty is, I suspect is that relationships aren't always strong enough, or self-esteem good enough,  to allow this to happen.

If nothing else, the thinking I did this morning makes me feel better about the fact that I'm an implementer-completer rather than an innovator, an energetic team-player rather than a charismatic leader, a reflective-theorist with pragmatic leanings rather than an activist.  And if a bit of theory makes me feel fulfilled then all to the good!

Of course there are zillions of other learning theories and reflection models out there, but for now I'm happy with the connections I made, even if they turned out not to be original