Yesterday I revisited several of the shops we'd invited to adopt sheep, and contacted a few more possible homes.  Although I had a couple of refusals, the great news is that we now have homes for EIGHT sheep and the makings of a fantabulous trail.  Two more would make me happy, and four more would be, well, kind of Biblical really!

A shepherdess went out to home her sheep.  She visited twelve carefully selected emporia to invite their participation.  Some immediately grasped the vision and signed up on the spot.  Some said 'no' quite volubly, quite gruffly, either there and then, or after lengthy circuitous correspondence.  Some hid behind 'company policy' whilst others exercised local autonomy.  So the shepherdess accepted the hospitality of the shop-keepers-of peace, shook dust from her feet as she left the doors of those who rejected the sheep, and went out in to the highways and by-ways, lanes and alleys in search of further friendly pastures...

To be continued!

From David Kerrigan.... go read!  Here.

I saw this hymn quoted on Facebook, and it seemed pertinent to share it here:

There is a line of women
extending back to Eve
whose role in shaping history
God only could conceive.
And though, through endless ages,
their witness was repressed,
God valued and encouraged them
through whom the world was blessed.
So sing a song of Sarah
to laughter she gave birth;
and sing a song of Tamar
who stood for women's worth;
and sing a song of Hannah
who bargained with her Lord;
and sing a song of Mary
who bore and bred God's Word.

There is a line of women
who took on powerful men
defying laws and scruples
to let life live again.
And though, despite their triumph,
their stories stayed untold
God kept their number growing,
creative, strong and bold.
So sing a song of Shiphrah
with Puah close at hand,
engaged to kill male children,
they foiled the king's command.
And sing a song of Rahab
who sheltered spies and lied;
and sing a song of Esther
preventing genocide.

There is a line of women
who stood by Jesus' side,
who housed him while he ministered
and held him when he died.
And though they claimed he'd risen
their news was deemed suspect
till Jesus stood among them,
his womanly elect.
So sing a song of Anna
who saw Christ's infant face;
and sing a song of Martha
who gave him food and space;
and sing of all the Marys
who heeded his requests,
and now at heaven's banquet
are Jesus' fondest guests.

John L Bell (born 1949)
© 2002 WGRG, Iona Community, 4th floor, Savoy House, 140 Sauchiehall Street, Glasgow G2 3DH, Scotland

There is a line of women

Which continues down through time

Continuing to persevere

In living for their LORD.

And though the church moves slowy

And trips over its feet

Yet still they keep on trusting

God's call upon their lives.

So sing a song of Edith [Gates]*

Who pioneered the way

And sing a song of others

Who do the same today

And sing of all the women

Who strive to do their best

As people called to serve God

In every time and place.

extra words by me!!!

* If my memory is working correctly, Edith Gates was the first ordained woman Baptist minister in England in the 20th century, back in 1929, and along with a Congregationalist of roughly the same date, one of the first two in any tradition in the UK

News had reached me of two of Dibley's folk who have died this week.

R was just a few years older than me, a generous, warm-hearted person who would help anyone, snatched away by a particularly aggressive and rare cancer.

C was in his nineties, a slightly crusty Gideon with a rare twinkle in his eye, and a heart of gold, who had evidently felt a little unwell the last few days.

Heaven is a brighter place/entity now, but 'my' fragile little former flock a little more fragile.  So tonight I weep with them.

A sad day for the Church of England.  Sad in my opinion because of the decision reached on women bishops, and sad because it strains yet further the already fragile Anglican communion.

I have tried to type all sorts of stuff here, and deleted it.  What I admire about the Church of England is its diversity, somehow held together across theological and cultural spectra.  What saddens me is that the flip side of this strength is days like this.  Today just feels sad, there is no sense of anyone 'winning' let alone of God's will being done.  My heart aches for my sisters in the Anglican clergy who are almost certainly weeping tonight.

Words... they just fail me.  It's a sad day. 

Father, forgive us, we have no idea what it is we are doing...