A Skinny Fairtrade Latte in the Food Court of Life

There has been mounting excitement in this corner of Glasgow over the last few weeks as a new supermarket has been taking shape in the shell of an old one.  Workers from "darn sarf" (even by my reckoning) have laboured long and hard, cranes have appeared from a Manchester-based firm (why?!  one of my long standing puzzles is why cranes trundle across the nation rather than being sourced locally) and plenty of local people have been recruited and trained up.  Yesterday I witnessed frantic shelf stacking, sign hanging and barrier shifting.  This morning a glistening new supermarket awaits its first customers.... Waitrose has arrived!

As I am beginning to think about Advent preprations (i.e. preparing to do Advent, not what Advent is) this activity and excitement has been quite striking.  I love the Advent season with is calendars and candles and (at least among the young) mounting excitement as Christmas nears.  I love the Advent hymns with their sense of yearning and aching for what is just out of reach.

This morning I found myself reminded of these words from the advent hymn 'There's a light upon the mountians' :

There's a hush of expectation,

And a quiet in the air;

And the breath of God is moving

In the fervent breath of prayer...

I hope that people's expectations of Waitrose will be met, that the food they have longed to taste is worth the wait.  More, I hope that our Advent waiting might be eager expectation and anticipation of the promises of God, Immanuel.

Just being around at church is a good thing.  It's good because I get to chat to the cleaner and various building users.  Today two hints that links are being made...

Upstairs is an office rented by a commercial tenant.  Usually once or twice a day he goes to the coffee shop and asks if I want anything.  Today he called in as I was preparing a visual aid for Sunday, and we chatted about what it was, allowing me to explain why I was using it.  Not a deeply profound conversation but a little link, and notably it was he who asked the questions and opened the door a chink.

Then the cleaner arrived bearing a slice of delicious homemade cake as a gift for me.  We chat only a little as she is busy and also has only limited English.  A level of friendship is establishing itself and smiles and small kindnesses say a lot.

This is why I wanted to be based at church, and I am glad it is already proving worthwhile.

Here is one of the photos I used on Sunday, taken at the National Memorial Arboretum in July.

The slightly ajar door in the wall allows those on the battle field at glimpse eternity, into which their fallen comrade has already passed.  Part of our hope as believers in Christ arises from such glimpses - that death and sin are not the end, there is a brighter tomorrow.  When Jesus called his disciples to take their crosses and follow him it was simply to death, but through death into the hope of eternity.

The alignment of the sculpture is such that at 11 a.m. on 11 November the sun's rays pass through the slit; our hope as Christians allows such glimpses any time, anywhere...