This week we've been getting ready for the vicar school valedictory service, which takes place tomorrow afternoon.  'In my day' as the saying goes, it was on a Tuesday evening, because most of us were either based in Manchester or would be staying over.  The book I chose to buy (an inclusive language NIV at a time when such a thing was fairly new and exciting) is decidedly tatty 21 years on, and although it rarely gets used nowadays, sits on my desk at home.

This week, as I've been taking time to recall those with whom I trained, and who were in the years above/below me, and to wonder where they are now.  It was sobering to discover, with a bit of online searching, that, of my cohort, I am the last person still in active Baptist ministry... there were six of us valedicted that year, three have now retired, two are no longer in accredited Baptist ministry, and me.  I think that of the two no longer in ministry, one made it to 20 years , and the other to around 15, so between us it's the greater part of 120 years service, which is no small thing... certainly several thousand sermons, as well as hundred of Deacons and Church meetings.

Tomorrow we will celebrate another cohort, women and men who have responded to God's call, have tested that time and again, and who are still committed to serving among these crazy people called Baptists.  I give thanks for A, D, G, N and S with whom I was valedicted, and pray for B, C, C, J, J, K, P, P and S who we will valedict tomorrow.         

On Sunday evening, we hosted a General Election hustings on behalf of Churches Together in Railway Town.  It was good event with some level of representation for seven of the eight candidates, and a written statement from the eighth who was unable to attend or find a deputy.  It was was all pretty good natured, and we even explored some of the complex and divisive topics without major tensions.

I was proud of our little church for the hosting, proud of the wider churches for participating, grateful to the candidates/representatives for engaging, pleased that members of the local community came to listen.

Next stop election day when we are a polling station and have been given the green light to hold our weekly coffee morning provided the two are kept separate.

Much prayer needed between this and then as the whole political landscape is, in my opinion, decidedly worrying. 

Today, via the wonder that is Zoom, I was able to attend the 'release of covenant' service for a minister friend of mine.  It was a beautiful service, with a thoughtful sermon, some honest prayers, kind words and a lot of grace.  My cats chose to sit nearby through the whole service, and Sophie agreed to appear on screen briefly at the end.

What struck me most was the pastoral imperatives that we, as ministers, exercise in such moments, setting aside our own preferences in order to better serve those we are among.

Today's service began with a hymn that is very precious to me - used at my Baptism, my ordination, two of my induction services and one of my leaving services.  I didn't use it at my last leaving service because there were those who actively hated it; instead I chose hymns that had been meaningful to that pastorate, including one I don't really like (hate is too strong a word, I avoid it as much as possible).  So today it was both joy to sing the hymn I love, and reminder that pastoral imperatives must always outweigh my personal preferences in public worship.

The second hymn sung was one that I always find difficult to sing, because it expresses a level of confidence that I, in all honestly, can't promise to express - that on the day I die, in the final moments of life, I will be praising God.  I'd like to hope (theologically, determinedly) that I might, but I cannot be sure, so I cannot, do not, will not sing those lines.  I think God understands.  Pastoral imperatives to self-care, to know that it is okay, at least with God, to sing or not, say or not, claim or not...

The liturgy for release of covenant, words I created for use in the parting of ways with a church that had run out of money to pay me;  words that have been published and used in many different contexts (with or without tweaks, that's totally fine); words I used last year; words that today I heard/experienced as a guest at another ending.  I reckon they are okay, that I 'done good enough' in what I wrote fifteen years ago, that these words are inspired by a pastoral imperative and not just by my own own pain, hurt, regret, wondering and worrying.

It was a privilege to attend the service, to hear words of thanks and words of regret, words of pain and words of hope... pastoral imperatives are complicated to negotiate, and there are rarely 'right' answers, just responses that are 'good enough' and that, I believe, is okay with God.

This week I spent three days on retreat with staff and students from Vicar School.  It was interesting being in a role that was neither leader nor participant, but more what my Mum would probably have termed 'general factotum'.  I had a brilliant time, learned a lot about general factotuming, and, along with a colleague, have a delightful tale to tell of how we rescued a dog and a man from a cave (in truth neither was in any danger, but both need our help, and it's a great tale!).

Back home, the bites from the Cumbrian midges are at maximum itchiness, and I am totally wabbit, but I am looking forward to doing it all again in a year's time.

The image is a plaque on the wall of the chapel at Rydal Hall, where we stayed.  I like the truth it expresses, perhaps more bluntly than the Psalmist, that wherever we are, and however we are, God is there... and that is good. 

I looked up and realised I had spent about four hours checking, correcting, printing, folding and collating stuff for the vicar school retreat. Very grateful to Sasha for your quality checks!

Looking forward to some time spent away from computers and phones (at least mostly) and taking time simply to be rather than to do... at least as much as my job allows anyway!