Luke 1: 8 – 20

One day Zechariah was doing his work as a priest in the Temple, taking his turn in the daily service. According to the custom followed by the priests, he was chosen by lot to burn incense on the altar. So he went into the Temple of the Lord, while the crowd of people outside prayed during the hour when the incense was burned. An angel of the Lord appeared to him, standing at the right side of the altar where the incense was burned. When Zechariah saw him, he was alarmed and felt afraid. But the angel said to him, “Don't be afraid, Zechariah! God has heard your prayer, and your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son. You are to name him John. How glad and happy you will be, and how happy many others will be when he is born! John will be great in the Lord's sight. He must not drink any wine or strong drink. From his very birth he will be filled with the Holy Spirit, and he will bring back many of the people of Israel to the Lord their God. He will go ahead of the Lord, strong and mighty like the prophet Elijah. He will bring fathers and children together again; he will turn disobedient people back to the way of thinking of the righteous; he will get the Lord's people ready for him.”

Zechariah said to the angel, “How shall I know if this is so? I am an old man, and my wife is old also.”

“I am Gabriel,” the angel answered. “I stand in the presence of God, who sent me to speak to you and tell you this good news. But you have not believed my message, which will come true at the right time. Because you have not believed, you will be unable to speak; you will remain silent until the day my promise to you comes true.”

Picture

Painting by William Blake

Prayer

We depend so much on words, on the ability to share our thoughts and ideas with others – but in this story, Zechariah loses his voice.  Our prayer recognises the power of words – and our dependence upon them.

God who spoke creation into being, this story of a man who, for a time, lost his voice, we realise just how much we depend on words to express ourselves.  Words have the power to create ideas, to express love and to encourage others.  Words have the power to destroy hope, to express hate and to demean others.  Forgive us when our words are hasty or unkind; instead help us to choose our words wisely and well so that we, and everyone with whom we share our words, may be enabled to flourish as your beloved children.  Amen   

This morning I hit 'send' and my conference paper whizzed off through the ether to the orgnanisers.  It seems to be something I do roughly once in a decade (although, on reflection, in industry I did quite a few too).

The first was linked to my research, and explored the interface of church health and church history - it eventually formed a chapter in a book of essays to mark the centenary of the Baptist Historical Society.

The second was a reflection on my experiences of being treated for cancer whilst serving as a Baptist minister - it eventually formed a chapter in a book of essays from a conference in New Zealand on Spirituality and Cancer.

This one who knows!  I hope that the conference organisers will eventually publish the essays, which, from the programme at least, look like a fascinating collection of responses to the 'Project Violet' initiative of the BUGB.

... Joseph!?

No-one was keen to play the part of Joseph, so I offered.  The Mouse Detective lent me her eyebrow pencil to draw on a beard, and off we went.

We had a lot of fun, and the level of participation was good.

It is more than a little worrying that a few folk actually thought I was a man... should have gone to Specsavers!

Twelve years ago, I dressed up as Mary for a 'messy nativity' sheep trail...

Algorithm advertising is clearly effective... I succumbed to the lure of a personalised  'Catmas' jumper (which is really a cheap sweatshirt with a printed design).  It's fun, and you only live once, so why not...?!

Today I have an actual day off... that is, a day off, when nothing from church or vicar school is allowed to sneak in and steal time from me.

So, I took myself off to see 'Paddington in Peru' and it did not disappoint - though I feared that it would.

It's a bit cheesy, and far-fetched, and definitely feel good, but it, very gently, explores some themes around 'belonging' and 'home', about value and worth, about choices and maybe even redemption.

Like others of similar genre, it borrows shamelessly from other well-known stories, be that 'The Sound of Music' (nun with guitar - Olivia Colman as a singing Mother Superior) or Indiana Jones.  There is even one of the nuns from Nonatus House apparently doing an overseas placement (okay, it's the same person playing a nun in a different story).  What's not to like!

I loved it, it made me laugh out loud, and it even, in places, brought a tear to my eye.

It's a very long time since my late friend A and I went to see 'Paddington' in Glasgow as joint birthday treat, which we loved, and then Paddington 2, which we loved even more.  I think that A would have enjoyed Paddington in Peru too.

If you get the chance to see it, then it's worth the money, and if you don't then look out for it on TV at some point in the future.