Yesterday our BMS link missionary came for the evening, and folk from four churches gathered to hear about the work he and his wife are involved with in Bulgaria.  Given it was such a lovely evening and a Bank Holiday to boot, it was great to have around two dozen people.  I thought he seemed weary - physically, emotionally and possibly even spiritually - but it was interesting to learn something of the project with which he and his family have been involved.  The post-talk food was fantastic and everyone should have gone home a size larger as a result.

This evening there is a TLM event just up the road from us, and as we also support this organsiation I am intending to go along.  Because it's in the Episcopal (Anglican) cathedral it's all a bit more posh than our event last night but it should be very interesting.  However, I'm told I am not allowed to utter the words 'misisonary' or 'mission partner' because they are now (at least within this organisation) termed 'cross cultural workers.'  There is good logic for this, especially in the areas where TLM is active and things can be sensitive.  Alas the phrase 'cross cultural worker' will never have the romantic appeal of 'misisonary' complete with its image of the pith helmet and big, black Bible.

Checking my emails, there was one from someone writing a piece on Baptists who blog in Scotland as part of a BUS publication looking at technology and IT in churches.  It was interesting, because it picked up some of the threads that I explored in a paper for the Baptist Minister's Journal more than year ago, and some of the questions addressed in BUGB Top Tips leaflets such as Blogging Yor Church. There's kind of a cross-cultural thing here, I think... crossing Hadrian's or the Antonine wall... or the IT-phile/IT-phobe divide... or something.

In the same email was an invitation to participate in an embryonic gathering of Baptist women ministering in Scotland... I have to choose the words carefully here!  Most are Scots, some are not; I am ordained, others are not and may not be.  In replying I alluded to the VIKs (Vicars in Knickers) thing we tried in Leicestershire, and have already found myself cross-culturing this to become McVIKs/MacVIKs (opinions seem to vary on which is the Irish and which the Scottish variant)... and a hint that it ought to be serving McVickies biscuits!!  Afterall, we served 'clustered creams' at the Dibley and District Baptist cluster.

Now I must go and write my sermon for Sunday's service which is focussing on BMS and employing the parable of the sower/soils found in Luke's gospel. An idea of where to go with it came to me as I walked to church this morning... so we'll see what happens.

The nice BBC weather forecaster this morning announced that the weather was overcast and threatening rain... except in Scotland and the East of England where it is gloriously sunny.  This is poetic because one could be forgiven that weather only happens in London.

Of course the fact that I've turned my week upside down and having my personal bank holiday and day off Thursday and Friday may have fooled the weather gods... (my Mum claims that for the last 20 years my Dad has held the role of "clerk of the weather" so you could always blame him if your weather doesn't suit...)

It's not very often that I allow myself to pick hymns and songs on the basis simply that I like singing them (so long as they fit reasonably with the service theme of course) but yesterday I did.  So, we started with 'Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God almighty' moved via 'Lord of the Dance' to 'Teach me to dance' and ended with 'St Patrick's Breastplate.'

People sang them brilliantly - and the choir pieces were superb too - all of which added to the experience of worship.

There aren't many trinity hymns and songs - a few 'rounds' such "Father/Jesus/Spirit we love/adore you" - so it was good to sing the two we did; the 'dance' ones connected with the trinitarian metaphor I was using.

St Patrick's breastplate is not the easiest to sing, though two Baptist churches with a certain set of initials, smaller and larger, do it brilliantly.  Sometimes it is good for us to sing ancient words, words which have been sung in chapels and cathedrals, monasteries and marquees, by countless people through many centuries, marvelling in the wonder of a triune God who surrounds, upholds and indwells their very being.

So, suitably indulged, I'll revert to my more usual practice of 'does it fit', 'do people know at least some of them' and 'is there suitable variety in pace and mood'?

Next week we are thinking about BMS, welcoming a new member and sharing communion... looking forward to it already.

Whilst trawling the www for images, I happened on this painting entitled Trinity Sunday by a Russian named Valery Badakva.

I have been watching the Junior Apprentice on BBC1 (and rooting for Kirsty, my local Scot, who reminds me a bit of a minister friend of mine in Yorkshire).

What has struck me most, so far, has been the visibly more gentle Lord Sugar.  Still astute, still razor sharp and somewhat ascerbic in his comments, but ultimately kinder and almost fatherly, with great words of encouragement to those he has fired.  From what I read of him online, he is a great family man, a tad old-fashioned in regard to women and work it has to be said, and a great champion of young people.  I have always enjoyed The Apprentice (one of those rare excuses ministers get to call people stupid!) and usually, if not always, concur with the decisions made (I have even seen Sir Alan, as he then was, follow his heart rather than his head, which was quite endearing).

My old church, when asked to which TV programme they would compare themselves, chose The Apprentice on the basis that I was always setting them challenges.  Thankfully I wasn't seen as a Sir Alan character firing unsuccessful candidates or cutting people down with sharp remarks.  And of course there were no stupid people in my church anyway... some a bit low in confidence, many a bit fearful of fouling up, even a few who maybe didn't always get what we were about, but definitely not stupid.