As part of yesterday's service I offered peple an opportunity of anointing - for healing and/or for service, both Biblical patterns.  When I'd been preparing the service, I had felt strongly that this was the right thing to do, but as the week wore on I became less certain - my folk can be a bit rigid and tell me thst 'Baptists don't...' (fill in the gap).  All through the service I hummed and ha-ed (or however you spell that expression) and only during the intercessions - which I always get someone else to lead - did I finally decide to go with it.

I found this fantastic photo on the web with a Google search which seems to say everything that needs to be said theologically about anointing...

You don't need to be male or a priest to do it, you don't need to be young or dying to receive it!  You don't need 'holy oil blessed by the bishop' - Wilko's baby oil or ASDA cooking oil will do fine (best not to use dirty engine oil though).

And - which is as well as I'm left handed - you don't have to do it with your right hand!!!

~

Before the liturgical invitation to the Lord's table (Baptist brick page 14, a 'Simple Pattern'; I hadn't the energy to write my own this time) I explained what I was offering, that the oil was hypoallergenic, dermatologically tested etc etc and that I would come round during the last hymn (the front row was half full because we only put enough chairs, so I couldn't ask then to move there) but they'd need to indicate by waving at me, which would require some courage on their part.

I, not quite sure what I expected, but I was touched and surprised by those who did respond - not just the 'obvious' ones, in fact, not at all the obvious ones really.  Some of the quieter folk, who are seen as rather peripheral to the church, not the 'old' families, not the noisy ones, these were the people who shyly raised a hand and asked for annointing and prayer.  One person sitting in the back row crossed himself, and I smiled inwardly, glad he felt safe to do this (and afterwards recalled how, though during a year working with an RC church I had never felt the desire to join in, sometimes, in private it is something I, too, find helpful...), another woman, quietly weeping said 'this has come just at the right time...'

It is a constant mystery to me how, when we dare to take risks with our worship, mission and service, somehow, God breaks through and makes authentic the very thing that pushes our boundaries beyond what we would ever dream.

I don't know that anointing will become part of our regular worship- in some ways, I hope not.  There is always a danger that it would become another routine. If, however, it helps us better to minister to one another in moments of need and commissioning, then it is a good thing.

This is a psalm written in old age...

I will praise you with the harp for your faithfulness, O My God

My hands, with fragile paper thin skin, bespeckled with liver spots, embrace the wood polished by years of use...

My fingers, gnarled, stiff with arthritis, scarred by life's battles, reach for the strings so much harder to pluck than in my youth...

The notes sound out, not so clear as in the past, some not intended, some out of time...

But I offer them to you, God of old age, who hears, as if through my hearing aid, the music I play

 

I will sing praise to you to you with the lyre, O Holy One of Isarel

A cough to clear my throat, the frail, faltering notes of old age, wavering, a little off key...

No more top C's, unintentional vibrato...

Words elude my grasp, hymns I loved of yesteryear reduced to tum ti tum...

New songs too fast, too syncopated, no harmonies, no depth...

(Don't let me get crabbit LORD, inside I'm still a young girl with wings on my feet)*

I sing what I know, what I trust to be true...

Great is Thy faithfulness, LORD, unto me.

Today I have a cold - and a hacking cough and my voice isn't too good.  Working with Psalm 71 in readiness for Wednesday and a group of seniors recalling 70 years of the 'Bright Hour' led me along this path.  Somehow thanks to acute rhino-virus, I feel a little more empathy than I otherwise might!

For the record (in case you ever wondered) this is not a pop at new songs, which I actually enjoy using, just a reflection of what some (by no means all) older folk say to me.  That and recognition that I find myself nodding agreement when I watch 'Grumpy Old Women!'

* Plagiarised from the wonderful poem "A Crabbit Old Woman"

Last night, due to a misunderstanding, I had downloaded directions to the wrong Baptist church of two (notionally) in the same town, and we arrived to discover it all shut up and no lights.  We set off to try to find the second one.  Unsure of our bearings we stopped to ask a group of late teens and 20 somethings on their way for a good night out.  "excuse me, can you tell us where Watnall Road is?" we asked tentatively.  "This is it" they said, without laughing, sneering or making us look utterly stupid.  "You don't happen to know where the Baptist Church is?" we added.  They gave us good directions to both the Baptist churches, smiled and went on their way.

Ah me, the youth of today, friendly, helpful and knowledgeable, whatever happened to those nice louts we could fear and shun?

Oh, and a PS as we neared the venue I spotted a church with lights on - the RC Saturday Mass was spilling out.... then another - now a Community Centre - open and buzzing before we finally reached the Baptist church.  The great thing for me was to be in town on Saturday night and see no less than three church buildings (two if you want to be pedantic) open and active when people were out and about.... oh, for more of this.

Tonight I went to see Paul Field's musical 'Cargo', which is his response to the 200th anniversary of the abolition of the transatlantic slave trade.  It is powerful stuff, and combines his great singer/songwriter talent with some powerful narrative.

I don't suppose he is saying anything that, say, Riding Lights or Saltmine or a dozen others aren't, it was just that he happened to be saying it locally.

For me, one of the most powerful things he did was to compare the money involved with consumer goods - a child sold for the price of a Big Mac, for example, or a young girl sold into prostition for the price of an inexpensive second hand car...

Twenty million people currently in slavery is a massive number - too large to mean much.  About the same as 40% of the population of England, or around the whole population of Australia (assuming things like Wikipedia are roughly right.)

"Nothing changes because people think there's nothing they can do - but we can all do something, however small"

"No-one is truly free until everyone is free"

These seem to be the two messages of today - and they are good ones, I think.

(This is a bit of an aside but still...)  One of the big themes this year is about saying sorry - and it's one I find slightly bemusing and bewildering.   Saying sorry without acting differently is rather hollow.  I also wonder where the apologies start and stop - not because I don't think they are worthwhile, but because my ancestors have been both victims and aggressors, sometimes on the same issues (not least, somewhere along the line having both Campbells and MacDonalds; both Jews and Christians; to say nothing of French, Dutch, German and Spanish (I'm not actually all that English really!), soldiers and contientious objectors.... the list is endless).

I guess I end up concluding that how I behave in the here and now is of greater import than who beat, bullied or burned my ancestors.  There's only one person whose actions and attitudes I can control - and that's mine; my challenge is to do my little bit to learn from the past, allow it to inform my present and hopefully contribute to everyone's future.  (Adn that, I think, is called Practical Theology!)

... no, not the old chant at Greenbelt (or so I'm told) when they had insufficient numbers of portaloos, but the title of our Association Day, from which I have just returned.

It was a good day, much munching of demonic sandwiches in our packed lunches (an in joke, sorry) offset by a few fully sound jelly babies!

Seriously, though...

We began by saying 'farewell' to Peter Grange, our retiring Regional Minister a man with the incredibly rare gift of zany humour and deep, deep wisdom. loved by pretty much everyone and a real blessing to those ministers and churches he supported and encouraged.  With characteristic humour and wisdom, he set the assocation free to move on to a new phase, and rightly, received a standing ovation.  Many other Regional Ministers and the like had travelled specially for this day - a long way to a school in Dibley plus 6 north (as distinct from D+6 which is west-ish!).  God speed Peter, we'll miss you loads.

A good keynote speech from BUGB racial justice man Wale Hudson-Roberts on 'do justice, seek mercy, walk humbly with your God'.  Black theology at its best - offering the holism of ubuntu within profound Christian faith.

Confession time - I skipped all the seminars!  As I was helping out with a bit of organising, and kept getting asked for directions to this or that talk, I got some space to chat to other people involved in organising -and to share minister jokes about demomic foods.

I had the immense privilege of leading the closing worship - and I had a fun time, I have to confess.  There was a superb atmosphere that seemed to move through dfferent moods almost seamlessly.  From the Revelation crowd of people from all races and nations we moved into singing 'Jubilate' and then 'Uyai Mose' (Come all you people) - the latter sounding wonderful as people found the harmonies.  A lovely Iona prayer, a reading from Galatians 3 & 4 (one in Christ) and we moved on again to sing 'I give you all the honour.'  The children came on stage bound in paper chains to share how they had learned about Joseph and his "multi coloured jumper" and how he was sold as a slave; the young people shared some thoughts: a sketch on people trafficking (think of that video clip of the unacceptable cargo - broken and damaged - that is actually people) a fantastic graffiti banner and then sang Amazing Grace - which people joined in with spontaneously.  We made a chain of 'paper people' - wee mees of ourselves, to symbolise our unity in Christ and our commitment to be 'one people united in mission.'  Our prayers of intercession picked up themes from the day, interspersed with the Taize 'O Lord, hear my prayer.'  We ended with all seven verses of 'Cry Freedom' - the Baptist Assembly hymn of 2007, which started life in Leicestershire in the 1990s, and a prayer from the Latin Amercian Council of Churches:

God of mercy and hope,

In the struggle for freedom grant us strength;

In decisions about freedom grant us wisdom;

In the practice of freedom grant us guidance;

In the dangers of freedom grant us protection;

In the life of freedom grant us joy

And in the use of freedom grant us vision

For your name’s sake

Amen.

Listing all this out probably looks like showing off - I hope it isn't.  It was just a great privilege to be part of the day and to share with so many people in praise, prayer, rededication and - to all intents and purposes- commissioning.