Today I received a phone call to let me know that a friend had died suddenly in the early hours of this morning.

N and A were a retired couple who were incredibly kind and supportive when I was at vicar school.  They lived in the house literally across the road from the church where I did my long placement, and their door was always open with the offer of a cuppa, a toasted teacake, Sunday lunch or a midweek meal.  A's cheesy leeks were - are - legendary!  Truly two people who loved each other very deeply, and who exemplified the fulfilment of wedding vows.

At times my long placement was a difficult place to be, and this couple's home offered a refuge, a safe space to be when I had to hang around for evening meetings at the end of a day.

I have many happy memories - they came to my BA graduation in Manchester, sometimes took me out to lunch, they even drove down to Dibley once to tidy my garden which was beyond my (extrememly limited) ability, during which time we rescued a hedgehog. N played the piano for my ordination service, and they both attended my induction in Dibley.  More recently (about three years ago!), they visited Glasgow and attended worship at the Gathering Place.

In the early hours of this morning A died.  I will treasure my memories of her.  Her down-to-earth Mancunian personality, calling a spade a spade.  I will treasure the pastoral situations I was privileged to share with them as a family.  I will smile and be glad, for my life is the richer for having known her.

Rest in Peace, A, you lived a good life, laughed often and loved much... I am privileged and grateful to have known you.

This was Week 3 of the "couch to five kilometres" programme, and today I completed the third and final run of the week.  So that's three weeks, nine 'runs' down, and six weeks, eighteen 'runs' still to go.  It's certainly getting more challenging, and at the same time, I can continue to 'stagger' (running might be a bit of kind description) at around 165-170 strides per minute for longer periods of time, especially when I fail to hear the 'app' tell me to 'walk'!!

Two of my three runs this week were flat, coastal paths in Bardsea, near to Barrow in Furness, and the last a flat-ish (gentle upwards!) run at home.  The difference was quite noticeable - hills are hard work!

It has given me pause for thought, though, as each week I can do just that little bit more than the week before.  This is usually true also of anything else ... build up slowly and it's more doable and more sustainable.  Sometimes I think with spiritual practices, we can be guilty of trying to run a full 5k before we've got used to the short intervals.  I think, too, we can be guilty of confusing quantity with quality.  Over the years, I've met many ministers (mostly men) who have told me that they rise early and pray for an hour before breakfast, read x-chapters of scripture etc.  It can be all too easy for me to feel inadequate because I don't, can't and never could, do this.

Begining the c25k has reminded me that not everyone is a marathon runner, not everyone a sprinter, and that one size doesn't fit all.  Read a few verses, pray for a few minutes... be intentional and regular but not necessarily daily (the c25k is three days out of seven) if that works better.  Don't beat yourself up if you need a rest, or to repeat a week (I'm debating repreating week 3 if week 4 run 1 proves too hard).  It's not a competition - whether it's physical or spiritual wellbeing - and sometimes we need to be reminded of that (or at least I do).

Three weeks ago running for 60 seconds was hard work.  Twice this week, due to failing to hear a command, I've run for 3.5 minutes non stop (should have been 3, oops).  Overall, then, it's going in the right direction.

This poem was read at the vigil for Manchester:

I was reminded of this prayer:

This is the place
and this is the time;
here and now,
God waits
to break into our experience:
to change our minds,
to change our lives,
to change our ways;
to make us see the world
and the whole of life
in a new light:
to fill us with hope,
joy and certainty
for the future.
This is the place
as are all places;
this is the time
as are all times.
Here and now
let us praise God.

I'm not sufficiently insensitive or crass (I hope) as to suggest that this prayer fits the Manchester situation.  But what it does do, which is important, is to speak hope, love, determination and openness to God's transforming presence in all places, all times.

Wherever we are, however we feel, this is place, and this is a time for people of faith to live the words we profess.

#Manchester #PeopleMakeGlasgow #HopenotHate #Lovewins

Yesterday I was a participant in a day conference reflecting on Christian unity at which the keynote speaker was Rev Malcolm Duncan.  Whilst the material shared was familiar, for me at least, it was a good reminder of important practices in learning to disagree well.  I don't agree with Malcolm Duncan on everything, and disagree on some major topics, but admire his honesty and openness in modelling relationship with those he disagrees with.

Today I will be hosting some US students in a day exploring some stuff around faith and politics, faith and social action, faith and contemporary issues.  I'm really blessed to have three Baptists offering input to this day, and at least one C of S colleague attending.  We don't all agree on everything, except the fact that faith matters, and relating faith to life matters.  My speakers have diverse theological and political views and I am confident that they will model disagreeing well.

I'll be using material from JPIT and Christians in Politics to reflect at the end of the day (including a prayer that I just might have written!!)

In 1999, I moved to Manchester to train for Baptist ministry.  It was a city about which I knew very little, and of which I was a little afraid.  Over the next four years, I fell in love with this gritty, edgy, diverse, warm, rainy, post-industrial diamond-in-the-rough city where strangers at bus stops tell you their life history.  There's a gruff, self-depracating humour about the place, and a resilience to adversity that is admirable.

In Manchester I learned loads and was 'initially formed' for ministry, a process that now continues in another rainy, warm, diverse city, which I love just as deeply.

The image above is a piece of art by Jim Medway that captures something of the essential Manc psyche.  A Saturday night on Oxford Road and lairy clubbers exchange banter and trade insults in a bus queue.

Some thoughts.

The first time I went to the Manchester Arena (then MEN) was for a Soul Survivor 'Message to Manchester' Christian event in 2000.  Young people from all over the UK came to the city to 'bless' it with practical actvities such as gardening, clearing rubbish and helping bring hope to broken communities - and they did; the lasting legacy is well recorded.

Manchester Commonwealth Games 2002.  Highlight of the Games, for me, was watching the netball finals at the (then MEN) Manchester Arena.  Afterwards, adults and children of many nations spilled out of the arena in Victoria station in merry mayhem.  Sports commentators commented on the friendliness of the city, and how taxis and service buses stopped to pick up people for free.

And then 2017, events still unfolding in the news of lives lost, people injured and displaced.  City centre hotels opened their doors, individuals their homes, taxi driver switched off their meters.  The GMP, North West Ambulance, NHS, first responders and people of good will leapt into action.

This image captures quintessential Manc cheek and humour.

For me, at least, it also expresses a profound truth... this diverse, resilient city is one where values of love, compassion, righteous anger, hope and faith are to be found.

Good is stronger than evil,

Love is stronger than hate,

Light is stronger than darkness

Life is stronger than death

If praying be your thing, then please pray for Manchester.  As well, or instead, you might like to light a virtual candle here or here