Tomorrow the real work of Easter begins - lots of extra services and, this year, an unusually high level of itinerancy (very scriptural!) as we move from place to place for different events and days.  So this is sort of an Easter card from me to you, wishing you a really good Easter with space to experience something of the whole roller coaster of emotions it involves, culminating in hope and a future... and a chance to crash out after all the services are over!

On Yahoo greetings (here) is my all time favourite kitsch Easter e-card - follow the link and then choose the 'He is Risen' e-card.  It's so bad it's good!

Happy Easter one and all.

Recently I posted some tentative thoughts relating to the crowds on Palm Sunday and Good Friday and wondering how authentic or otherwise they might have been.  Eventually I found someone vaguely on the same wavelength when I visited Simon Jones’ blog (see ‘Better Blogs’ list) who noted that Jesus was somehow the still centre in the turmoil and muddle of what was happening.  A relief to know I was not totally alone in my thinking!
 
However, the comments and humour that flowed from that post made for interesting reading and, eventually got me back round to thinking about crowd mentality.  The coded references to parts of Leicestershire and reminiscences of childhood TV programmes at first sight had nothing to do with what I was thinking about and, indeed, in isolation still don’t.  But Andy’s suggestion that Windy Miller was a non-stipendiary minister (despite looking more like a stereotypical Quaker) got me pondering the ‘spirituality of Trumptonshire’ (obviously I do not have enough ‘real’ work to do!).
 
As far as I can recall, there was no designated ‘place of worship’ (i.e. a church building) in Trumpton, Camberwick Green or Chigley.  So, if Andy’s suggestion is right, then Windy’s congregation must have met either in the open air or a hired building.  Perhaps Windy was really an early Methodist rather than a Quaker and rode around on his penny-farthing trike from village to village?  Anyway, with this thought I warmed to the idea of playing with ideas about Trumpton spirituality and wondered fleetingly how it reflected or anticipated real world experiences…
 
Trumptonshire was, it seems, modelled on the Midland shire counties – apparently Melton Mowbray was one of the ‘models’ used.  Strange then, given their significance in the emergence of Protestant non-conformity that in Trumptonshire there are no churches or chapels, let alone clergy (after all even 1980’s Postman Pat has a vicar in Greendale!).  What defines and shapes Trumptonshire is not expressed in terms of a faith but some sort of middle class, middle England image of community spirit.  In Trumpton it is the town hall clock striking 9:00 a.m. and the evening Fire Brigade band concert at which everyone congregates (!) to be reminded that all is well.  In Chigley it is the village dance that follows the 6 o’clock whistle at the biscuit factory when the workers seem to entertain those who have no need of such employment, and once more there is a sense that all is right with the world before sundown.
 
Trumptonshire was a good place to live – there were never any fires, no crime, only minor ailments for Dr Mopp to treat and Lord Belborough seemed to be as happy talking to Chippy Minton as to any of the local gentry.  The stories were incredibly innocent but brought lots of pleasure to 1960’s children.  It is too easy to pick holes and risk sullying otherwise precious memories.  But I do wonder how much the stories created an illusion of ‘community’ that did not exist even in then. 

Perhaps the stories had no church because they never mentioned Sunday, or perhaps in the story tellers mind church was already an irrelevence.  Either way it does seem that Trumptonshire complete with its nice statue of Queen Victoria in the town square and impeccable morals, was already reflecting a 'post Christian' society.'

The good people of Trumpton seemed happy enough to go with the flow and gather to hear the Fire Brigade band play the same tune every week, whilst the crowd at Chigley enjoyed the repetitive village dancing.  It was good TV for tinies, who love repetition and the security created by a familiar routine, and that’s undoubtedly the real motivation, but if I postulate for a moment that the crowds in the stories behaved like real crowds, then how authentic or otherwise was their behaviour?  Did they really enjoy life in Trumptonshire or were they just swept along by events?

All of which goes to how that if you try hard enough you can connect any random pair of ideas!!!

And as for Windy Miller, we now know he gets distracted by young female joggers after he eats Hovis… but that’s another story.

Yesterday I attended my first School Governors' Meeting at the local Primary School.  Accepting this role has caused mixed responses from my Deacons but hey, we say we want to get more involved in the local community...

I don't think I've ever heard so much jargon in one meeting - not even in the days when I did PSA and HFA for AGRs!  Thank goodness for Google, I now know what SEF and Panda mean in a schools context but still have to grasp a whole lot more acronymns.

Somehow I ended up being the governor who links (but not in Governor language 'cos that means something else) with the teacher responsible for music!  I'd rather have RE, science or numeracy - but my Anglican colleague, also a former engineer, had beaten me to it.  That and having to pick a 'cohort' to follow - I chose year 4 'cos at least they can talk to you!

It did make me realise though, how much jargon there is in churches that we all take for granted.  Aside from the weird concepts of 'sin' or 'salvation' there's all our institutional stuff which varies across traditions.  Try explaining to my sister's 8 year old that her Mummy being a URC elder is the same as my people being deacons and neither is the same as Methodist or Episcopal diaconal understandings!  Actually, try explaining it to my deacons...

So now back to preparing for the DM (Deacons' meeting) with a report from the PMT (Property Management Team) the FG (Finance Group) and some correspondence from EMBA re: HMF (East Midland Baptist Association regarding Home Mission Funding)!  And not a furry mammal in sight... 

As one of our Lent initiatives this year, I decided to have a go at 'Table Fellowship,' even though I wasn't exactly sure what that was meant to be/do!  I offered 6 Monday evening slots for groups of up to 5 to come to the manse for a meal during which we'd talk over a Bible story and share bread and "wine" (grape juice).  The plan had been to choose 6 different stories of meals Jesus shared and talk about them in six different groups.  In the end only two groups came and I opted to use the same passage each time - the Lukan account of the annointing of Jesus at the home of Simon the Pharisee.

It was interesting to see what each group homed in on in the story, the themes that emerged and so on.

The first group, all women, all retired, tended to wander off course quite regularly but were fascinated by the woman and her actions: why had she gone in the first place, why did she take this perfume with her, how much did she cry to make enough tears to wet someone's feet, how come no-one threw her out.

The second group, mixed, and a bit younger (50 +!) were more focussed but were more intrigued by her 'sinful' nature and whether her hair would be too greasy to dry feet with!  They stressed the symbolism of the washing - a few tears easily wiped away - and were (apart from the personal hygiene topic!) more overtly spiritual in their discussions.  A lot of energy went into considering why it is that one who has been forgiven much loves more than one who has been forgiven little, and why it is that churches are full of 'nice' people who take their salvation for granted with little sense of joy or extravagant love.

It is fascinating to compare how the groups worked with the passage and to reflect on the insights they drew from it.  They were two good evenings and worth repeating at some future date - perhaps not as part of a special series but as an occasional part of the worship life of our fellowship.  It was certainly a relaxed way of approaching 'Bible study' and made for two pleasant evenings for those who took part.

Of course, one person, should he ever meet the woman in the story will be itching to ask her 'do you use Head and Shoulders'!

Yesterday was our annual cluster service - the time when our four local Baptist churches share a service, usually with a visiting preacher.  Last year was our turn to host but our venue wasn't available so we decamped to the Methodist church down the road.  This year the host church was sans floor, sans electricity, sans anything useful as it is being refurbished, so they decamped back to our venue i.e. the local Primary School.  This may all sound very confusing but I think it says a lot about where we are as a cluster: three out of four churches are small and in times of major transition.  As a result all are learning to become very adaptable and to discover that God does not live in a box called 'church.'

Our service was led by the BU president, the Revd Roy Searle and we'd given him a brief to lead in the style of the Northumbria Community as we felt it would be good for our folk to experience a different aspect of authentic Baptist (whatever image that conjures up!) worship.  So five happy ministers (the one big church has two) imported candles, post-it notes, pots of daffodils, pictures of the local area and enjoyed some creative prayers, some Northumbria Community songs and some 'text telling' by Roy.  Most people enjoyed the service which brought a strong message for all us of based on the John 21 miracualous catch and commission of Peter.  I guess I'm biased, this is one of 'my' significant passages, so I felt God was talking directly to me encouraging me to continue to nudge Dibley into the C21.  Still trying to work out how Roy got away with saying that our building (the closed one) was 'quite naff really' - maybe Presidents have a special annointing!

After the service we had a bring and share tea and if not 12 baskets of leftovers, certainly plenty for all to enjoy.

We distributed the pots of daffodils - one to each church and one to Roy as an informal sign of hope and as a tangible reminder of our connectedness (Brian-ism, and maybe a hint of Rachel-ishness too).  Roy moves on to the North West, we move on in Leicestershire but all the time God is there, one step ahead, to the right, to the left, above, behind, beneath, bringing  hope and a future.