Tomorrow I'm off to St Andrews for my first ministers' conference in Scotland.  The programme looks rather different from those I've experienced in England, in so far as there are a couple of seminar slots when you get to choose from two or three options: this suggests it might well be a bigger event (or that the groups will be tiny).  I'm not wild about something that finishes at ~7pm with a two hour drive home, but it will be good to experience this thing in all its fullness, so will avoid the temptation to duck out early.  For the record, no, I won't be spoiling any good walks, not least as I wouldn't know which end of the bat to hold! ;-)

Even though I have met some delightful ministers through my college course (which I passed, woohoo, I'm now a thrice-qualified mentor) I am a bit apprehensive of being in such a different context.  I recall the trepidation with which I attended my first EMBA conference and also how it soon became evident that others were equally anxious.  I recall the grace and love that was evident among ministers and lay pastors as diverse in theology and church-personship as one could imagine.  Whilst I will notice the lack of women this time (EMBA was unusually high) I am sure that there will be more that is blessing than bane.

Who knows, there may even be a few other Happy Heretics out there...!

On Saturday I was doing a bit of sad narcissistic Googling (I'm everyone does they just have more sense than to admit it) with my name and that of our church.  Most of what popped up was obvious but I found one mention of a website that spoke very negatively of us becuase, shock horror, in my predecessor's time some attention had been given to green issues.  As I explored that site, I discovered that basically anyone who didn't share their exact views was a heretic, so we were in the good company of Rowan Williams, Tony Campolo, Steve Chalke and the Alpha Course to name but four.

According to the website (a blog, it was a couple of comments that referred to us) we are in a state of terminal decline, which is sad really because actually we are growing.  Yesterday during the offering I did a sneaky headcount and there were ~60 adults even though several were out with the children and a lot more were on holiday.  We had the delight of receiving someone into membership - the third since I arrived so around a 5% increase in 'formal' membership in that time, not counting the growing number of attenders.

So, the happy heretics are alive and well and worshipping in Glasgow.  There's always room for one more and the doors are open...

Today's service focussed on the parable of the sower/soils.  A familiar story, and one of the few where the Bible offers us an explanation, so finding something new to say is always something of a challenge.  My new angle came to me one day as I was walking to church, and involves stepping back from the story in order to glimpse a new pespective.

So, I chose to centre on the farmer - someone who knows his trade and knows his land.  He knows that there are weeds at the edge of the field; he knows where the rocks are; he even knows the reality that flocks of birds will arrive on the lookout for an easy meal.  He also knows the value of the seed - saved from a past harvest, packed with potential, incredibly precious and containing his future hope.   So here is his choice: to go out and broadcast the seed - knowing that some will be gobbled by the birds, knowing that some will be trodden under foot, knowing that some will be choked by the weeds - or to keep it safe in a barn and miss out on the hidden potential.  He chooses risk - feeds the birds (and probably the slugs or other garden creatures), watches as the weeds stifle some of the tiny seedlings and hopes for harvest.  And so it happens... full grain in the ear, enough to feed the family, enough to sell to pay the workers and enough for another year's planting.

So, do we keep the seed safe in the store or do we choose the risky option: do we cast it widely, knowing some will never get the chance to germinate let alone reach the harvest?  Perhaps there are two polar dangers we face, one that we cast our seed without the expectation of harvest, the other that fear paralyses our courage to choose risk; in either case we miss reaping the reward that makes possible another season of planting...

We are planning what is technically termed an 'animally' theme at church for part of the summer into early autumn and whilst I have some ideas on where I'd like to go within that very broad remit (some animal images/metaphors used to speak of God; some of the fish-y stories in the gopsels, and so on) I feel there does need to be something looking at ethics.  There is a bit of creation care stuff on the BMS website and some decidely cranky (in most meanings of the word) stuff on the web but I'm not entirely sure where to find something useful.  Any ideas anyone?

There are so many 'animally' stories in the Bible that this is potentially a very exciting strand to explore... but I'm not planning on a pet blessing service, not least as the thought of little Johnnie's gerbil being eaten by Maisie's cat does not bear thinking about...!!  So, to those who thought I had finally really become the Vicar of Dibley, sorry, but no.

Whilst trying to find the music for Fred Kaan's hymn 'The Church is like a Table' (I've now ordered a copy of a book with it in) I stumbled across this alternative version thereof:

“The church is like a table,

a table that is round.”

Its sides defy detection

yet many feel rejection;

the signs of imperfection

are all too clearly found.

The church is like a table

a table sadly square;

with diners often chiding

at who should be presiding,

dogmatically dividing

the one Lord who is there.

The church is like a sideboard,

a sideboard that is stocked

with promises long broken,

apologies unspoken

and souls too long un-woken.

Alas that past is locked.

The church is like a sofa,

a sofa that is old,

with corners holding treasure

discovered at your leisure;

despite these signs of pleasure

there was no age of gold.

The church is like a freezer

attempting to preserve

the memory of years when

the aisles were full of chairs then;

but now they muster scarce ten

with little in reserve.

The church is really people

most probably appalled

at all this gentle slander -

but semper reformanda

we glimpse the vision’s grandeur,

to God’s tomorrow called.

(c) Peter Brain, 2004:

So, what would you add as your verse?