It's really quite small (the size you might put on a sideboard), and you could so easily walk by without spotting it, but in the Memorial Square in Railway Town is a beautiful nativity scene in a shed.
I like that I could so easily have failed to notice it.
I like that it's small and insignificant next to the bright white lights on the trees.
I like that that's how it would have been - nothing to see, just a another peasant baby, born in an out of the way place that no-one ever went.
Today I have been working on the service of Lessons and Carols for Advent 4, also known, this year as Christmas Eve!
I decided to go totally traditional and use only Bible readings - but which ones? Looking back over previous years' outlines, I ended up with a list of thirteen scripture passages to choose from. In the end, I a using ten of them - one as a 'call to worship' and nine to be read in the main body of the service.
Choosing carols was also a good challenge, as usually I've been interspersing 'choir' and 'congregation' but this year it's all 'congregation'... so we begin with some lovely Advent pieces before moving into Christmas and, yes, even Epiphany.
I am looking forward to seeing what folk make of it - a new context is always as challenge as 'everyone' knows what 'always' happens, except the new minister and any of the new folk who have joined or visited us over the past few months.
Just the small matter of the Christingle and Christmas Day left to plan...
Sometimes something is suggested that is really well intended, but it just doesn't feel right... That's how I felt when I saw on social media a request for churches in the UK not to light the second candle on their Advent wreath/ring as a sign of solidarity with those in Bethlehem who are suffering so much at the moment. The logic was that the candle for Advent 2 is (sometimes) seen as representing 'Peace' and sometimes (more rarely?) is called the Bethlehem Candle.
I had a problem with the idea, not that it wasn't well intended, but that it actually - to me - was misguided in two ways...
Firstly, all four candles are 'prophetic' we light candles of 'hope' when all seems hopeless, 'joy' when we are distraught, disillusioned or desperate, 'love' when the world feels full of hatred - and for 'peace' in a world where war, violence and injustice seem to reign. Not to light the candle seems to me, to say 'we have given up on the idea of peace.'
But what about the solidarity with Bethlehem? So why just that town (other than the obvious baby Jesus in a manger) - should we not stand in solidarity with those in Ukraine or Russia, those who are affected by wars in places we never hear about, or those who are victims of violence in the home? If we don't light the candle for Bethlehem, then maybe we should never light it at all..
Two much used sayings...
It is better to light a candle than to curse the darkness
A candle at midnight is a non-conformist; it say to the darkness, 'I beg to differ'
We lit our 'peace' candle as a prophetic symbol that we believe Gods promises are trustworthy and true.
We lit our 'peace' candle because we want to say to the darkness that threatens to overwhelm Bethlehem, and countless other places, 'we beg to differ'
We lit our candle rather than cursing the darkness.
Others chose differently - maybe they were right and we were wrong, but we believe our motivation - just like theirs - was good.
A naughty but nice treat from Greggs this morning - according to the menu board in the shop, it's a breakfast roll (omelette as filling). When I was in Glasgow, said foodstuff was referred to as a 'roll and omelette'. Apparently here it's an 'omelette bap.' I wonder what terms people use in other places?
Any way, my omelette in a bread roll, with red sauce, was very yummy!
Twenty years ago today, I took a train from Manchester to Warrington for my ordination service. Serious vows made in a celebratory atmosphere.
What a lot ministry has been in those twenty years… more than a thousand services, hundreds of funerals, several weddings, baptisms and blessings… to say nothing of meetings, committees, mentoring, supervising, interviewing, grant making, Pentecost partying, Commonwealth Games live streaming, Carols in a pub singing, COP26 crafting and much much more.
The best bits have been, and continue to be, so much better than I dared dream; the bad bits so much worse than I thought they could be. But absolutely no regrets.
Thinking today of the people who, and places that, have been part of the story.
Feels kind of nice that 20 years on I am back at my old vicar school helping ‘form’ those who will ministering for the next 20 years!