Let me explain. I was in the coffee shop opposite church picking up my early morning latte on my way in around 7:45.  They have a giant TV screen always tuned to BBC news 24 (or whatever it's called these days) with the sound switched off and subtitles on.  They also have some sort of 'gold' radio station playing so the music is of 'my' era, which is quite pleasant.  On the TV news was an interview about so-called smart meters and how these may, or may not, lead to reduced energy consumption.  I'm not sure how the subtitles are done these days, whether it is some sort of voice recognition software or something with predictive text, but there are regularly some entertaining, if incomprehenisble, howlers to be seen.  And this was one such.... 'most consumers don't have thimbles...'

It does, I suspect, reflect our 'zap pow' instant lifestyle, whereby the few seconds it would take for someone to type, and check, the subtitles is deemed too long.  Also, by and large, the once valued skills of audio-typing have largely disappeared, so we are left with people who, like me, use half of their fingers, and watch the keyboard, not the screen...

As a church, we are spending some time thinking about 'active waiting' about the 'meantime' which can seem long, slow and relentless... patience is out of fashion (though listen to any automated telephone answering thing and you will be asked to exercise it!).  Perhaps the subtitles this morning serve as a reminder of the dangers of rushing ahead, that we will inevitably end up with things that make perfect sense at one level but are totally meaningless at another.  Most consumers probably don't have thimbles, decorative or functional, but neither is relevant to their consumption of gas or electricity, so far as I can ascertain. 

Whilst I wonder what was actually said in the interview, I am challenged in my own typing, thinking and doing to remember that 'more haste, less speed' is as true as it ever was.  Does that mean I'll be making typo-howler free posts from now on?  Probably not - indeed I've been tempted to leave one or two in this one just for authenticity's sake.  But a timely reminder to be in less of a hurry.

Perhaps that should be 'good evening' given what time I am typing it?

It you were hoping for something profound from me today, sorry, it isn't here.  It's been my day off, spent mostly on trivial but necessary tasks, and I have thoroughly enjoyed it... it's been a 'good day'.

Holly is a happy cat... today whilst in a remainders book shop I spotted they were selling "pet's pad" animal beds for £6 and had some in a colour that matched my decor!  Here she is, happily curled up in her new fleecy bed, which will hopefully mean less "bits of Holly" stuck to the settee itself.

Today I called into my bank having been summoned for an "account review" something I usually detest.  However, today the guy doing it was cheery and set up the means for me to use internet banking in a matter of moments.  So easy!  Why didn't I do this years ago?  As the RBS fiasco means that my local NWB is scheduled to be sold to Santander, and as my account holding branch is in England so I won't, internet banking seems a good plan.

This afternoon I had the deep joy of a dentist appointment.  All was fine, and for once the hygienist didn't tell me off!  As I sat there with her scraping away at my teggies, I pondered how much less awful I find these encounters than I did a couple of years back... my fear of dentists, doctors and hairdressers has, just about, been cured!  Took some extreme measures to do it, but hey, I'll take the silver linings when they arise.

And now I am simply "chillin" as I await the arrival of my groceries by the nice man from the supermarket, and feeling that yes, today has been a good day.

The old adage of counting blessings is a good one, and today I feel I've been well blessed.

Today there's nothing much I want to say, so I'll just share the poem I used as part of the All Age slot where we were thinking about waiting, and how sometimes it gets very frustrating...

Waiting

Waiting, waiting, waiting,
For the party to begin;
Waiting, waiting, waiting,
For the laughter and the din;
Waiting, waiting, waiting,
With hair jut so,
And clothes trim and tidy,
From topknot to toe.
The floor is all shiny,
The lights are ablaze;
There are sweetmeats in plenty
And cakes beyond praise;
Oh! The games and the dancing,
The tricks and the toys,
The music and the madness,
The colour and the noise!
Waiting, waiting, waiting,
For the first knock on the door,
Was ever such waiting,
Such waiting before?

—James Reeves

I was six when I first heard this poem, and can still visualise the classroom and hear my teacher's voice...

This afternoon I attended F's ordination and induction service, what a pleasure and a privilege that was.

The little Baptist church looked beautiful; an arrangement of twigs and sparkly butterflies and several clusters of candles served to create a soft ambience.  In a corner tables groaned under cakes and urns bubbled merrily in readiness for pots of tea of tea to be made.  This, I thought, is going to be great, people who, like the congregations I've served, know how to combine the functional and the spiritual in a coherent whole.

More and more chairs had to be carried in, and were filled up.  A real buzz of excitement could be felt as service time neared...

And at the heart of it all, was F, her smile lighting up the room as she shared her call story and made her solemn vows before God and with the people she now serves.  It was a lovely occasion full of love and life, rich in hope and optimism.  We sang old hymns and new songs, we laughed and we prayed, we caught up with friends and we met 'new' people.

I love Baptist ordination services, because they (being very Baptisty) are tailored to the context.  Today's service was no exception, and this little church should be proud of itself.

F is a very talented and loving minister, with incredible instincts and deep compassion - she will serve her people loyally and well, with the help of the Lord she loves and the support of her husband.

This could turn all sloppy, and I'm not really a sloppy kind of a girl, but I felt today that F is in the place which is every bit as right for her as the Gathering Place is for me.  I came away glad of heart and feeling that God was indeed glorified in this appointment.

God bless you F.  Cherish this day, and dare to believe that all those lovely things people said of you are true.

Another girlie rev in post............. yeay!

Today's PAYG used the well-known and well-loved story of the paralysed whose four friends lowered him through the roof of a house to be healed by Jesus.  I am always struck by how this event, which must have taken ages, and which makes me wonder why no-one went to investigate the act of wanton vandalism going on above them, is told as if it took just as long as it takes to read it.  This, however, is not the direction PAYG took, instead centring on the link that existed in first century worldviews between sin and sickness or misfortune.  The commentator asked the question, who is that we think of as being responsible for their own sickness or suffering?  Clearly, we don't make a direct link between paralysis or blindness and sin these days, but, she suggested, what about people with AIDS or asylum seekers or immigrants, do we see their problems as being of their own making?

A while back a press article attributing 40% of cancer to lifestyle choices caused a deal of furore among people with cancer, many of whom live broadly healthy lives.  Is it justified to say that we contribute to our own sickness, our own suffering?  What about, for example, people who smoke or people who drink to excess.  Or people who enjoy extreme, dangerous sports.  Or people who work ridiculously long hours.  Do they/we contribute directly or otherwise to our own suffering?  Do they/we cause sickness/suffering for others close to us or, indeed, for society more widely?

I am reminded that questions about the relationship between sin and suffering cannot have a simple answer.  Sometimes it is indeed the case that foolish choices lead to personal suffering.  Sometimes it is the case that bad things happen to good people.  Sometimes the non-smoking, teetotal, healthy living woman gets cancer.  Sometimes a child is born with AIDS because her mother, who had been raped, was infected, or with foetal alcohol syndrome because his mother had an alcohol addiction.  Sometimes our choices cause suffering for others directly or indirectly.

That Jesus broke the link between personal (or familial) sin and sickness or suffering is central.  Never, ever, blame the person for their suffering, instead address them as they are.  That's really challenging in a world of limited resources (who do hospitals choose to treat?) with a blame culture (everything has to be someone's fault).  It's also challenging if we believe that somehow the world is damaged/disordered as a consequence of human 'sinfulness', not in a neat, responsibility evading view of 'Adam and Eve fouled up, we pay', but in recognising that the choices we make impact on the lives of others, directly or indirectly.  In some sense, the relationship between sin and suffering is utterly correct, it's just that it is more nebulous and complex than the ancients, and sometimes the church or society, likes to think.

In the pericope (chunk/passage/story) used by PAYG Jesus first forgives the man's sin and then heals him physically.  There is, it seems, something holistic here.  Not a simplistic sin = suffering relationship, but a health/wholeness > physical cure understanding.  To be freed from the regret, anxiety, grudge, emotional hurt of the past is valuable in and of itself; to be physically cured is, perhaps, a bonus.

I could of course go on to ramble about what we understand as 'normal' and 'healthy' or 'whole', and disability theology is a vast and complex field all of its own, but I have work I ought to do, so I'll shut up!  Suffice to say, I do not believe that there is a neat one-to-one corelation bewteen personal sin and suffering, though I do believe that choices have consequences, which may include sickness or suffering.

Fence dwelling as ever!