I noticed on social media the other day a campaign to keep Clyde, the Glasgow 2014 mascot whose farewell was documented in this video...

The desire to capture the moment by campaigning for Clyde to be kept 'alive' and 'here' seemed to me to echo Peter's desire to erect three Tabernacles on the mountain of Transfiguration... This was a wonderful few days for the whole city, maybe the nation, the UK, the Commonwealth, and Clyde embodied and expressed something precious: who wouldn't want to 'bottle' it for the future.  But you can't, that's the point.  We have to come back down the mountain of Glasgow 2014 and back to real life.

When Mary met Jesus in the garden of Resurrection he sternly told her 'do not cleave/cling/hold on to me' ... Now I'm not equating Clyde to Jesus (just in case you think I've totally lost the plot and become even more heretical) but there's a truth here.  We can't cling on to Glasgow 2014, to Clyde and all he symbolised, we have to move forward into a world without him smiling at us, dancing in sporting venues, hugging small children etc.  We have to come down the mountain, back to the plain, transformed, if not transfigured, in some small measure by what we have seen and heard.

Farewell, Clyde, you have taught us well. <waves>

Yesterday's PAYG focussed on the Transfiguration story, as told in Matthew.  Usually the recordings use the NRSV, noted for its accuracy of translation, and I noted, having never before been aware of it, the injunction of Jesus not to tell anyone about 'the vision' rather than the more more usual rendering 'what they had seen'.  So I did my quick check of cross references and Greek interlinear...

• In Matthew it is referred to as a vision.
• In Mark they are told not to mention what they have seen
• In Luke they tell no-one what they've seen.

This seems to me to go a long way to addressing the literal/figurative arguments over what happened with which people seem to tie themselves in ridiculous knots.  The disciples saw what they saw, it was most probably a vision, and it was sufficiently significant that much later they recalled it and told others about it.

Why am I saying all this?

Well, because all translations involve interpretation, and all interpeters are biased, they choose words that fit their understanding of what they've read.  By choosing "what they had seen" rather than "the vision" the NIV translaters, deliberately or otherwise, demystify what is actually mystery, and in so doing potentially mislead readers who are probably quite literal in their views.

Because the story told was written down decades later, and was based on a recollection of events some time, possibly years, after it happened.  Memory is a funny old thing, it is selective and ambiguous, it distorts, over emphasises, omits and re-imagines what actually occurred.  What we read is always an interpetation of recollection, not a verbatim transcript - which can lead us into dead-ends of missing the point.  Rather than questions of historicity we should be asking ourselves 'why this story, told this way' because in these editted highlights we call Gospels each author is serving their own chosen agenda.

Because it seems to me there are two extremes to which we can err, neither of which is ultimately helpful. Unquestioning literalism at one extreme and overzealous deconstruction at the other.  The point of reading the stories is not to analyse them and critique them, it is to listen for the truths they carry.  The point is not to discover the one and only meaning of the text but to listen for new menaings that emerge with every fresh reading.  If, as we claim, this is a living word; if as we claim there is always more light and truth to break forth from God's word, then we will explore the middle ground insearch of what that might be.

And then, after the vision, after whatever the story trells or show us, we come down our mountain.  We may say nothing to anyone, ever, or we may one day share a remembered story, or we might be dramatically changed...

I've just completed the first draft of my 'Minister's Report' for our upcoming AGM in September.

It's always a bit of a challenge - how to avoid it simply degenerating into a catalogue of "we did this, we did that"; how to make sure I don't miss out the vital contribution of the one group/person who will be upset or offended to be overlooked; how to balance celebration and exhortation (I largely try to skip criticism if I can); how to keep to no more than two sides of A4.

It's always a bit of a treat - time to sit back and enjoy recalling all the wonderful moments of the last year; time to recognise just how many people do so much in our church life; to see how much there is to celebrate and what exciting/challenging/intriguing possibilities lie ahead of us; to find a few photos or images to break up the text (not done that yet!)

It's always a privilege - to know that people will read this, and want to read it, will care what I think and say, so the tone, vocabulary and style matter

It's always a responsibility - people are precious and vulnebrale, easily damaged by a careless word or ill-phrased comment, so there's still some work needed before I can submit it

Five years together - I've commented on it more times than enough already - and its whizzed past.  Challenges and changes, comings and going, highs and lows... and one faithful, dependable God who has been in all of it.

Four years ago I ended my report with these words:

"For what we shared already, thanks be to God. For what God will show us next, yes please…"

I say them again now even if, in the light of experience that 'yes' is a more chastened, more tentative one that it might once have been...

... no, not from the day WW1 was delcared, but the birth of respected Baptist minister, college Principal and theologian R E O White was born... his date of birth was 4th August 1914, the day war was declared.

Back in the day, when I was a ministerial student (as we were then called) I worked in a church where one of the members was one George Farr, then in his nineties, the former Principal of Manchester Baptist College before its merger with Rawdon to form Northern and a respected OT scholar with a love of Deuteronomy.  I used to amuse me to hear him speak of "Freddie Bruce" and "Reggie White", scholars we knew only as FF and REO respectively.

On my shelves I have a number of REO White's books and pamphlets - but back then I'd never have imagined that I'd serve the church where his widow is still a member all these years on.

As the old hymn says "time like an ever rolling stream will bear us all away" (20th century inclusivised version) and for most people REO White (and George Farr for that matter) are just names on the covers of dusty tomes in college libraries.  But behind those names are men who laughed and cried, who toiled over sermons and spent hours in prayer, who listened to the heart cries of church folk and who spoke their minds on occasion.  My fleeting contact with George Farr, and longer contact with REO's wife and daughter have been a privilege and a blessing for which I am very grateful.

One hundred years on from the birth of REO White, who knows which future ministers may have been born, women and men who will take the baton on into another new century long after we have all been forgotten (except, of course, by God)

The last few weeks have been more than a tad manic.  If I've been working "illegal" hours, then some of the Gatherers have been doing double that, selflessly devoting themselves to ensuring our Glasgow 2014 events were a success, as well as working full time, caring for others, doing their usual church volunteering and so forth.  I hope that as many as possible of them are resting today.

Yesterday's live stream event of the cycle road races meant that the first person (me plus my poor overnight guest!) arrived at church at 7:30 a.m. to set up the projection equipment, by 8 a.m. the other tea members had arrived and begun to set cups and cakes, to put cloths and flowers on tables and prepare for... well who could guess?  A few strategic tip-offs to Police and Event Officials (no one ever mentions G4S when they get it right...) and we were guaranteed at least some customers.

I headed off to the netball final with my guest, mildly anxious in case no-one came and it would be "all my fault".  I was so relieved to arrive back mid-afternoon to find the place buzzing, bin sacks stuffed with useed paper cups, and the resort to 'biscuits as they've eaten all the cake".  The atmosphere was electric for the final couple of laps of the men's road race, with heart-stopping moments as the leader suffered a puncture and needed an agonsingly slow wheel change.  With almost everyone on their feet, the spontaneous applause and cheer as he crossed the line was amazing.

Then a gear change, we mopped the floor (people had come in dripping with liquid sunshine), rearranged the chairs and waited to see who, if anyone would come for the Songs of Praise service.  I suggested we put out 40 chairs with the option to put out more if needed... in the end there were 50-60 folk there,   The singing was absolutely amazing, the readers clear and with great emotional intelligence.  There was a calmness and sense of oneness, perhaps epitomised by singing Cwm Rhonda for which we had both Welsh and English words; if you listen carefully to the recording, you can hear a lovely Welsh-language soprano blending with the English-language of Nigerian, Canadian, Chinese, Northern Irish, Scots, English, and undoubtedly others.

Then, job done, we all went home, very tired and very happy.  I like to think Jesus, who probably popped in wearing a hi-viz jacket, or as the mother of a small soggy child, smiled and fwlr welcome in our Gathering Place.


We don't know how many people passed through our doors yesterday, but maybe as many as 200 all told.  Our friends at the Church of Scotland down the road who were literally on the race route estimated they had around 400 watching their live stream.  I reckon that's a good job!