This morning I'm playing 'hunt the hymn' for the service built around Acts 15.  I found this one, which I probably won't use, but seemed to speak into a wider context where churches are full of people who are hurt and who cause hurt, where real life takes its toll and where, despite or through it all, God chooses to work.  I like the honesty.

Lord, you have seen your church's needs;
our clamour you have heard:
at every point make known your mind;
apply to us your word.

When leaders argue, workers fail,
and faithful saints lose heart,
grant to us all your peace, your strength;
your love to us impart.

When illness strikes or loss invades
or ranks are thinned by death,
then come among us with new hope
and with reviving breath.

When Christians are in rival groups
and churches torn by strife,
make us repent, be reconciled,
and so restored to life.

We plead, O Christ, that when you come
you will find faith on earth;
one church awakened by one truth,
alive by one new birth.

Christopher Idle from Philippians 1 and 2 © Christopher Idle/Jubilate Hymns Ltd CM

Last night's service included this hymn, which seemed to speak into the world we inhabit...

The one who longs to make us whole

Is waiting to embrace

Our broken lives, so we can know

The power of healing grace.

God's love surrounds our suffering,

And keeps us through the night;

God helps us bear our deep despair

Till we see morning light.

The one who saves us from ourselves

Is waiting to release

Our hearts from chains of self-reproach

And failure to find peace.

When harmful habits leave us bruised,

Distraught by inner pain,

God comes to us through trusted friends,

And help us hope again.

The one who understands our need

Accepts us as we are;

And, like a loved one, welcomes us

When we have wandered far.

God never says we come too late

To be forgiven, free

But promises we can become

The self we're meant to be.

Edith Sinclair Downing, (c) Edith Sinclair Downing

Sources: Church Hymnary (4th Ed) or Hymns of Glory, Songs of Praise

DCM; set tune (CH4) Third Mode Melody, Tallis

Those are the words that went through my mind when the BBC news at 6 a.m. this morning announced the death of Raoul Moat, the man who'd been a stand-off with police following shootings earlier in the week which left two people injured and one dead.

Deeply sad that there is so much violence and easy access to weapons that kill

Deeply sad that a woman has lost her lover and her former partner in the same week

Deeply sad that children have lost their father

Deeply sad that a police officer was shot in the line of duty

Deeply sad that no 'way out' could have been found

Deeply sad that terror filled the hearts of ordinary people

Deeply sad that there was ghoulish fascination (the BBC website this morning has a 'step by step' account of events with eye-witness comments; and of course having clicked on the page, I'm no better...)

Deeply sad that someone, no matter who or what they'd done, spent their final hours in the rain, surrounded by armed police

Deeply sad that so many people are now left to grieve

Deeply sad that, all too soon, the commentaters and critics will pass judgement

Deeply sad that soon new horrors will replace this as news

Deeply sad.

Lord, have mercy,

Christ have mercy,

Lord have mercy.

Much of today is being spent trying to finish my essay/paper that will form the basis of a WIP presentation at next week's university summer school.  I am looking (very briefly) at reading in community as part of thinking what that might mean for writing.  One of the striking things (if obvious) is that churches are one of the few places where adults read aloud, one of the few places where there is any real sense of a shared reading experience.  This isn't exaclty earth shattering news, it is one of those taken for granted things about church life, but it has made me pause and think.

Academia seems to involve a lot of private reading that may then get discussed corporately, but rarely do people listen to something being read and then talk about it.  Some reading I did (on my own, silently) about reading groups suggests the same is true with them... people may all read the same book, and may air views on it but they don't routinely listen together as it is read aloud (audio books seem to be popular on car journeys, very few people listen to 'A Book at Bedtime' let alone do so in groups!).

The only places that collective listening to someone reading seems to happen are churches, public lectures and after dinner speeches.  Of these only churches (via Bible study/disucssion groups) and lectures (via Q/A) ever invite any kind of discussion.  And pretty much only church groups anticipate any impact of that on daily life.  Lots of preachers are talking about moving from sermons to conversations, which is fine, but I wonder, do we also need to be re-learning how to listen to someone reading aloud?

(As an aside, I occassionally try to read Barth.  The only way I do this successfully is to read it aloud, and fast, which seems to energise the otherwise rather dense prose.  Do you read things aloud and if so, what and why?!)

One of my periodic rants.

I am glad that I spent a year trying to grasp the rudiments of koine Greek, and gladder (in the style of Alice) that I have interlinear NT and OT on my shelf.  Today was I reading over the Acts 10 passage for Sunday in the church's pew Bible (GNB 2nd Ed) and once more winced at a bad interpretative decision.

Acts 10:2 GNB says 'He was a religious man... He also did much to help the Jewish poor people...'

Says who?  There is no mention of Jewish people in the Greek, nor of poverty for that matter, though the latter is implied.  It says he gave alms.  Is 'alms' too tricky a word for people to cope with?  I wouldn't have thought so.  Cornelius may have given alms to Jewish people, but he may not, we simply don't know, but let's not make it up to suit our own ends. Grrr!