I have just finished reading The Secret Life of Bees, by Sue Monk Kidd, as illustrated.

According to Amazon it's women's fiction, so maybe not of great appeal to many people who pass by this place - since statistically it seems that blokes blog and girls journal (and I like corny alliteration, even if it's only almost).

Anyway, it was quite refreshingly different from a lot of stuff I read and without too tidy an ending.  For those who are interested in finding novels that show hints of spirituality or theology, one of the central icons of the whole story is a black madonna around which/whom a small group of southern American black women have developed their own cult (used in its theological not pejorative meaning).  The central character is a white teenage runaway seeking to understand and resolve issues in her past.  The bees and honeymaking form the backdrop to the story which is quite simple and at times gently profound.  Being around 350 pages and with an undemanding style, it's about the right for holiday reading - enjoy!

The old grey matter has been churning around and spitting out quotes, some of which I have forgotten the true origins of but which, in their own way, have influenced my thinking

1981, Jim Stewart, Nuclear Engineering student (year above me) & member of college C.U. 'which heresy do you follow?'

2004, speaker with forgotten name, Christian Praise, Leicester 'suddenly I realised that God might not like my theology'

2003, in a Stanley Hauerwaus book and possibly quoting someone else 'if nothing's worth dying for, in the end you die for nothing.'

Many of the C.U. members considered I was too liberal to be admitted to membership, but Jim seemed to be onto something important.  Whilst my theology is honestly held and open to review, there are parts where it would actually be nice to think that God disagreed!  I have many strong opinions, but would I die for them...?  It all lends a helpful perspective to the things we get het up about and squabble over.

... an obstetrician or a medical ethicist.

In the last few days a 62 year old woman has given birth to a son conceived by IVF, a friend has announced the birth of their fourth child, and I've conducted a funeral for a baby born so early that had he not breathed he would have counted as a miscarriage and not a stillbirth because he was so premature.  Today in countless clinics across the western world 'imperfect' babies and those conceived inconveniently will be flushed away as little more than tissue, in sterile laboratories clever scientists will dabble with genetics and mothers (and fathers) will weep as their hopes and dreams lie broken on the floor of delivery room 'A'.  Today in many nations babies will die of curable diseases, experience gnawing hunger or be abandoned on the hillside because they are the wrong gender.

I'm glad these are not my decisions to make, to pronounce upon, to endorse or to condemn.

I'm glad theodicy allows me to say 'I do not know' and, in the name of the child whose funeral it was (as translated by a book of baby names) simply to affirm, elijah shaun: God is God, God is gracious.  I don't have to be able to make sense of everything but part of the mystery of faith, and of God, is the unknowing and the knowing held together by grace.

And I'm still glad I don't have to make ethical obstectric or medical decisions.

Well we made it to the sixth date with D+1 and we made it through the date, and then we ate cake, courtesy of the nice people at M&S (this is not just cake...).

It was one of those services that could have been an unmitigated disaster but, by the grace of God, emerged into something meaningful and memorable, for at least some of the right reasons!

Due to differing personalities and some resultant misunderstandings, I began by literally running, 2 minutes before the service began, to my house for equipment that the person taking today's service needed, lobbing it in the car and rushing back to the school as the service got underway.  There are various lessons for various people to learn from this, but thankfully humour and forebearance prevailed and we got there, well almost, in the end.  I knew the training for my little trek would come in useful as did my ability to generate powerpoint presentation ex nihilo during the service!

Although the theme was 'symbols' and we did spend some time sharing ideas on Christian symbols - with some resultant confusion between signs and symbols and even between activities and symbols - the main thrust seemed to be the image of church as God's house, a house with doors wide open to receive the neighbours, as more and more are invited in.  I liked the imagery and the open-door metaphor which allowed some important ideas around potential merger and mission to be touched upon.

By one of those wierd Holy Spirit thingies (now that phrase will annoy the real theologians who read this!) I had built my intercessions on the twin pillars of the nursery rhymne 'here's the church, here's the steeple....' and the 'hands/fingers' model from my Sunday School teacher days.  Admit it, you never knew these were pillars of anything!  Anyway, it seemed to fit in well with where the service went.  Our intercessions concluded with prayer for St "Smell's & Bells" who have made a decision to close, something that will take at least a year to work through, and for Revd NAM of D+1 who now moves on to pastures new.

So we concluded our worship and shared cake, in honour of Revd NAM, and a cuppa.

It was a time of celebration with Revd NAM and our friends from D+1, with a lovely buzz of conversation and some mingling.  We have come a long way from the tentative first date in February when it was dark and cold and we all wondered how this might unfold.  We have sung all manner of hymns and songs, been traditional and contemporary, creative and staid - and we we are still here, still smiling and now beginning to celebrate together!  God is good.

There's a long road ahead, and the destination is far from clear but this was not just cake... it was celebration of God's grace, the Spirit's indwelling, Christ's resurrection ... a trinitarian perichoretic dance of joy and freedom reaching out to draw us in to the eternal 'grand chain' that is the Missio Dei, ... and it was also fun!

This week I finally had that dread phone call - to conduct a baby's funeral.  I have now put together a service I am happy with and that I think will serve the needs of the family.  In due course (early next week) I'll no doubt reflect on how it went.

What I had not appreciated was the total lack of resources 'out there' and how poor is some of what there is.  Even my prefrerred 'Waterbugs and Dragonflies' is not much use to explain to a three year old that his baby brother died; most books assume it is a grandparent who has died (and that we are all true Aryans for that matter).  I quite like 'Help Me to Say Goodbye' as a sort of multi-faith, multi-cultural attempt, but again it's still aimed at adult deaths.  Both of these books I gave to the parents, who seemed genuinely to appreciate them, along with the list I'd compliled of stuff in the local library and on the web. So, does anyone know of anything for children - especially small children - about child death so I can update my library and lists?

Then the published liturgies!  The 'simpler' language isn't much simpler and it seems just to make children and babies into mini-adults.  I was even disappointed when I read the ideas in 'Human Rites' (apologies to the authors who have on the whole done a fantastic job with alternative liturgies).  I realise this is largely because Christian liturgies assume a greater level of owned faith and Christian knowledge than many of the people who come to us for funerals.  The most helpful thing I found (online) was what seemed to be a humanist liturgy from New Zealand! 

At least the song the parents have chosen to include seems to me to one that helps express some of what is going on for them; Don't Stop Dancing by Creed (here) is something I'd never heard of until today but found online.  If these were people with an owned Christian faith then maybe something like Matt Redmund's Blessed be Your Name or Kendrick's For the Joys and For the Sorrows would have served a similar function.  As it is, I am really glad they have something that expresses for them the things they need to say.

I have no problems with not singing hymns/songs and have got quite adept at balancing the content between personal integrity and mourner's desires, it just seems that our published liturgies - even the vague Baptist ones - imagine a world far removed from the one we live and work in.

So, answers on a post card to the usual address!