Here is our prayer/dedication grapevine from yesterday's service.  It was much admired by folk who came to our joint evening service.

I think it symbolises a lot more than 'just' our prayers.

It symbolises our sense of community, that in our diversity we hold together as a (broadly) reconciled unity.

It symbolises something of the story of our life together, as we have experimented with different approaches to 'all age worship' in order to find a model that works for us, for now.

It symbolises something of the temporality of all things - this poster-prayer will be on the wall for a few weeks, maybe a few months, and then will be discarded.

It acts, in some small measure, as a missional tool, as anyone entering our premises will see it, and have the opportunity to read the words, to see the squiggles and symbols, and discover something of how our faith and life intertwine

I think for me, as we near the seventh anniversary of my arrival in Glasgow, it symbolises much of what I want to celebrate about this church and my part within it.

Jesus said, "I AM the vine... abide in me... "

Make your home in me...

Rest in me...

Stick at it with me...

Jesus said, "you are the branches..."

When you are strong and when you are weak

When life is easy and when it is tough

When you  rejoice and when you weep

When it is a season of fruit-bearing

And when it is time for the pain of pruning

Jesus, true and living vine

Source of vitality and energy

Refresh, renew and reinvigorate us all

That, in whatever season we find ourselves

We may bear fruit worthy of you

Amen.

Photo (c) Brian Muir

It's been fun.

I've played around with Greek words.

I've looked at Hellenistic and Hebrew understandings.

I've explored exlcusivist, inclusivist and pluralist readings of John's gospel.

I've made bread and decorated wine glasses.

I've prepared quizzes and colouring pages.

I've sung with the choir a couple of times.

I've been blessed by the thoughtfulness and creativity of others.

I've been very blessed by the two "fairies" who each week have helped set everything up for worship...

Today was I AM the true vine ... which I tried to explore via a recap of the other six images; with a little bit of creativity we got there...

bread - nuturition - grapes

light - succoth - celebration - joy - wine

gate - threshold/crossing place - many sheepfolds, many branches

shepherd - vine-dresser

resurrection - little deaths & little resurrections - I get knocked down, but I get up again - pruning

way - Christian perspectives on salvation, exlcusive, inclusive and pluralist readings - many mansions - one stem, many branches

vine - the root stock of Christ, in whom we remain, abide, rest, stay, grow, flourish, delight, weep...

It's been a good summer - for me at least - and I've had some encouraging feedback as to what people had found helpful or thought-provoking.

Auld claes 'n' parritch next week - or at least back to our non-summer pattern.  A short series on the book of James will be very different, but hopefully helpful and encouraging and challenging.

This morning I attended the funeral of someone I only got to know after she had been diagnosed with cancer.  That is definitely my loss, as the tributes this morning bore testimony - physically beautiful, seriously intelligent, utterly pastoral: these things I had glimsped only briefly.

We first met in November 2014, and what struck me was that we were both wearing duffle coats; mine red, hers green.  I told her the story of my red duffle coat, that in the early weeks following my diagnosis, utterly terrified and needing to seize some control, I had bought it, a defiant act because red coats are not "sensible" or "practical" but instead '"frivolous" and "fun".  She understood and, if memory serves, her green duffle coat held similar, if not quite the same, significance.

It was always coffee AND cake when we met.  No matter what else was going on, this little celebration of life was pretty much a ritual.  And she would always insist on paying, assuring me that the C of S paid better than Baptist churches... I learned not to argue, but instead to enjoy good conversation and good company.

Of course I can't tell you what we talked about - that goes with me to my grave - but there was deep sharing, brutal honesty, the sacredness of a safe space in the midst of all life threw at each of us.

It was a wonderful service this morning, a packed church, a heartfelt tribute, words and prayers of hope - all you would wish a funeral to be.

So, I am sat at my laptop and have just drunk tea and eaten cake, a lot of it, in honour of M.  May she rest in peace and rise in glory.  I am honoured to have called her "friend".

BUGB have recently appointed a new staff member as a "Communications Enabler" who has passion for pairing words and pictures (mostly his own photos).  If I remember correctly, as a student he did a project matching photos to Bible verses, to which I contributed one or two offerings.  He was also minister at a church I used to belong to in the 1980s... the  Baptist world is everso small.

The photos are available to download for use by local churches.  Many are responses to national and global events, some are reflective, some, like this one from Rio draw on the wisdom beyond us to give us pause for thought.  What if we really could transform the world like this...

Psalm 90:10 says

The days of our life are seventy years,
   or perhaps eighty, if we are strong;
even then their span is only toil and trouble;
   they are soon gone, and we fly away.

On Monday I spent a happy day visiting my Mum on her 80th birthday.  When I arrived she was having her hair done and had already received a card and gift from the home; a birthday cake was organised, to which we were able to add some of my sister's finest home baking.

Sitting in her room, she opened her assorted cards and gifts, savouring each moment, before we went out to a local pub for lunch.

It was a "good day" for her.  She seemed relaxed and content, accepting of her circumstances, grateful for the spacious room, good care and friendly staff. I think she had a happy birthday.

The words from the Psalm are not exactly cheery... even if we are fit and strong, even if we live to a ripe old age, life is characterised by struggle, suffering, pain, loss...

Certainly my Mum has experienced her share of sorrow, loss, pain, struggle, but she has also enjoyed her life, has precious memories that age has yet to steal (and reminders in place for when it does).

When we are young, I think we aspire to be old one day, not understanding what that actually means.  To be 80 is to have already said farewell to many friends and relatives, to have confronted one's limitations and, all too often, to have surrendered at least a degree of independence (smaller, easier to care for homes, or adaptations, medical aids... the list is long).  It is to have experienced disappointment as well as delight, to have learned unexpected lessons, to have loved and laughed.

I am pleased for my Mum that she reached this milestone - six years ago no-one could have predicted that she would.  I am glad that she had a good day.  I hope - and I pray - that however many more birthdays there may be, that "toil and trouble" will minimal, and love conquer all.