On Thursday I went to Manchester for a meeting with my university supervisors at my 'old' college.  The place was a building site as there is extensive work in progress to re-model the library, provide additional toilet facilties and (I think) a much needed social area.

The library is looking good. I have to admit, though, part of me is sad to see the demise of the old, slightly musty, wide open spaces that served adequately for generations.  The new look library is definitely more functional and feels more business like, the study areas are better equipped and connecting the books and periodicals areas is good sense.  The most sensible thing is that it is no longer necessary to traipse through the library to reach the chapel, nor will readers be disturbed by singing.  The loss, from my view point, is that the chapel now becomes rather separated from the rest of the building and some of its more delightful aspects may be less apparent - I'll have to see the finished result to know (and I won't be sorry if the fuschia pink and turquoise colour scheme has gone!)

The re-shaping of the library means that the area where I used to sit and work is due to disappear into toilets or something equally functional.  Thankfully, I'm not greatly attached to buildings or places, so I won't feel cheated by this - afterall, I also had to suffer the inadequate loos and social space for four years.

What is good is that the old place will serve a new generation of students and 'house users', that it will continue to change and develop as is needed in the process.  I hope that those who use the new look place will find as much pleasure and fulfilment as I did in my time, and that they, too, will be able to look back with fondness on their time at the minister machine in Manchester.

Tonight I was helping out at the children's club - all aged 10-11 years old, half boys, half girls.  I had taken along a 'game' as requested - a challenge to build a tower using newspaper, drinking straws, paperclips and a limited amount of masking tape (about 30cm).  Paper and straws could be traded for more tape.  The challenge was simply to build the taller, free standing, tower in 15 minutes.  They chose to work in gendered teams.

The boys' tower was very elegant, constructed of straws and tape (bought with their paper) and reached a height of 36 cm.  A good effort that they actually asked to take home to show their parents!

The girls' tower was 168.5 cm tall, less elegant, with a passing resemblance to a three legged giraffe where the top had bent over and straws had been fixed to extend the height achieved by the rolls of paper.

It was intriguing to watch how the teams worked - in each case, with good cooperation - and where the ability to think laterally lay (the girls soon worked out that rolled paper was longer than a straw and that paperclips worked as well as tape in holding bits together).

Of course I'm biased, but I'm pleased the girls won - more because it wasn't what I'd anticipated.  I have to assume that the 'girlie towers are pretty not practical' modus operandum is finally disappearing.

Way to go!

As Burn's said, 'To a louse, on seeing one ona lady's bonnet in church....'

 

O wad some Power the giftie gie us,

To see oursels as ithers see us!

It wad frae mony a blunder free us,

An' foolish notion:

What airs in dress an' gait wad lae'e us,

An' ev'n devotion!

 

OK, so I'm in postaholic mode today.  And, for anyone who reads this, I'm not looking for someone to smooth my feathers by saying nice things.

As one of life's worriers, I often worry how I come across.  Years ago I was horrifed to be told someone thought I was intimidating because I was organised and a fast worker; as far as I was concerned that was just how I was, no big deal.  I was once told by someone they wished I'd do less listening to others and express my views more, but by then I was scared of being scary.  We won't list how many people think I'm scary or bossy.  Then I worry about it.  I worry if I stand up for myself, I worry if I don't.  I worry if I'm stroppy (and I can be, very). I worry who I might offend, what other people will think ... and at the same time think, hang on, I'm not answerable to you, but to God.

My NAM mentor used to tell me I over-reflect - i.e. that I internalise every error, every criticism, every possible misunderstanding.  He was probably right (that's as close to an admission as I'm willing to go).  But how does one get it right?  Ministers are meant to be self-aware, it's meant to matter to us if we get it wrong or less right than we'd like.

The poor old louse in the poem is being criticised for daring to be on a nice lady rather than on a beggar, a wifey or a child.  It's not the louse's fault, just the perception of the viewer.  But for us, it's a bit different and whilst I can't be held responsible for what you're thinking, I am responsible for my own actions and words.  Sometimes I am mean and nasty, sometimes my teasing goes too deep and wounds, and often I sit and worry over nothing.

So, if there happens to be anyone out there who can tell me how to get the balance right, I'd be grateful.  In the meantime, be gentle with yourselves, and I'll try harder to do likewise.

This is the title of a talk on preaching I will listen to next week.  I'd love to problematise the title, and I have several preconceived notions about the tack the talk will take, but it has at its core something very important, namely that the Bible is so important we need to think carefully how we handle it.

So how about historical material?  (Yes, I'm off on my research tack now). If we believe that reading about the past is important, and if we believe (as I do) that we can learn lessons that inform our present and shape our future, what does this mean about how we treat historical stuff?

I think this means something like, what is the parallel between Bible study and preaching and historical study and something-or-other-ing.  I'm not sure what that something-or-other is yet.

Put another way, what can I take from Biblical studies and hermeneutics that I can bring to historical stuff, not to treat is as 'gospel' in the way the word if popularly used, but so that it might actually become Gospel - as in 'good news' - for postmodern humanity?

Or, to put it yet another way, by reading the stories of God's people in, say , 17th century English Baptist churches, and reflecting upon them, how might we actually begin to detect something of God's voice, or authentic discipleship or, which is my interest, ways of approaching potential for change? 

The story of God's people in scripture is far richer than much of the history I read, but I can see more and more parallels as I go along.  When I was about 12 I asked someone what came after the Bible - in other words where was the continued record of the story of God's people.  Being a lot older I know that there isn't such a thing as The Bible Volume 2, yet somehow, there is a sense that all the dusty tomes hidden in archives form part of that non-existent book.

Rightly handling the word of truth - using the Bible with due care and respect: absolutely.  Though what it means is, I suggest, far from absolute.  Rightly handling the non-canonised stories of God's people - that seems important too, but quite what it means, I'm less sure - yet.

In the last 48 hours, I have spent at least 12 travelling.  All this for 4 hours of meetings.  In total this week, it will be around 18 hours travelling - some thing I have got out of the habit of in the last eight years.  Setting out from home at 6 a.m. yesterday brought back memories of the days when I used to leave even earlier to travel to East Kilbride or 'somewhere near Newbury' for meetings or as part of that crazy long distance commute of people who leave home at 4 a.m. Monday and return home at 9 p.m. Friday.  Whilst I don't miss the endless travelling (believe me the 'Red Eye' flight to Glasgow with the evening 'Chicken flight' (as distinct from the late afternoon 'scone flight') in one day could make very long days) it has actually been quite enjoyable to reconnect with the lifestyle that many professionals have today.  I wasn't too pleased when my homeward train was diverted due to track vandalism, meaning I missed my connection, but it was a helpful reminder of what normal life is like for many in our churches today.

Today it is back to roads as I head to Nottingham.  This week I have worn more 'hats' than I care to count, and the list of hats I need for next week is already growing.

When I started out in industry, I used to have nice clearly defined jobs to do and few meetings.  Life was simple, I was learning but I was willing and able to do much more.  I have seen a similar pattern in ministerial life - when I started off looking after my little church was enough to think about, but four years on I am enjoying the variety and additional challenges that involvement at Association and denominational level bring - even if it does mean returning to the days of long road/rail trips and dodgy food.  Maybe is Jamie Oliver does buy up Little Chef and turn it around it'll be a good thing for those who spend hours travelling on business for organisations that can't pay £20 a throw for 'evening meal'.

Now, I must do some of my fifty tasks for today.