Next week I am having a week off, not least as I have a sizeable amount of annual leave to take and also as Advent is looming large.

It is hard to believe that this is my 7th Sunday in my new church and that, today, I complete my first preaching series.  The timed as whizzed by and yet in other ways I feel as if I've been here for ever.  For the first time today I will be asking the adults to do something more than listen to me talk - so that'll be a test of something or other!  Using the 1 Peter 'living stones' we are going to make a collage of cardboard 'dressed sandstone' bricks (both blonde and red!) on which we will write our first names.  For the first time ever I have to write "Catriona G" to distinguish myself from others with the same first name - that made me chuckle a bit.

Anyway, all quiet here for a week or so and then back to begin the Advent journey with ecumenical lunchtime prayers during the week and a  preaching series based on the lectionary.  Good fun, and I'll look forward to it.

Today, as I sat in my office, I heard the patter of small feet climbing the stairs and turned to see a small boy bearing a plate of food for me.  Pakoras, onion bhajis, apple pie and coffee cake, a celebration feast because two of the mums in the toddler group had just been awarded British citizenship.  A lovely fusion of their traditional food and quintissential Britishness.

I went and congratulated these mums, we laughed that they know more about Britishness than most of us who were born here.  I chatted to the other mums and carers too.  They love this place where their children can play safely, where they can chat about the challenges of city life or bi-lingual families or mulri-culturalism, and they really appreciate the freedom they are given in using the space.  Some little links being made... and with Christmas on its way all too soon, I am beginning to think how to develop those creatively...

Yesterday I popped into Waitrose to see what all the excitement was about - ultimately it is just another supermarket but even so, it was full of people come to see it.  And to be fair, for many folk it is now their local supermarket and here they will do their regular shopping.  I bought a pint of milk ("red milk" for those who speak the lingo) and a packet of biscuits!

As I got to the checkout the woman offered me a free bag-for-life, a gimmick they are running for the first couple of weeks, which gives them incredible levels of free advertising.  The West End of Glasgow was awash with people clutching Waitrose bags and 'walking the dog' as the checkout operative put it, giggling as she observed it would really wind up the other 'up market' food outlet just down the road.

All of which made me think about what we do as Christians and what is an appropriate way for us to walk our own particular dog.  In common with many of my ministerial peers, I am 'big' on give-aways, whether they are events or meals or gifts, but am not quite so sure about the idea of branded carrier bags (or whatever might be equivalent).  I am certainly not happy with the denominational (brand) competition intended in this campaign but is there something about awareness raising?  Tricky.

Images of yeast and salt or of tiny seeds hidden in the earth offer a very different perspective on how we permeate society.  And yet there is the contrasting image of the city on the hill, the light that cannot be hidden or defeated.  Being 'salt and light' seems to demand a tension of hidden and visible, of 'walking dogs' and plain paper bags.  I don't know how the right balance is struck, but maybe that's part of the challenge of being disciples - learners who never quite get it sussed but keep trying.

....the lyrics of the song 'Coming Home' by the The Soldiers (three real soldiers on active service) which I heard on Saturday in the Festival of Remembrance from the Albert Hall, and what they say about God and us and free will and its consequences...

"All the wounded and the brave

The ones God couldn't save

We salute your courage..."

At first I wanted to be cross with the line 'the ones God couldn't save' because part of me said 'yes God could.'  But then that left the question, if God could, why did God not.  And I had to think harder and remind myself how I understand omni-God-stuff.

My view of God is roughly this:

God can do anything consistent with God's character
God gives us free will
Free will has consequences and if God intervened every time we make a 'bad' choice we wouldn't be free; in effect God's hands are 'tied in love' as someone I know once put it.

So, on balance I'm left tending to agree with the words, not because God is/was incapable of saving (in the sense of preventing from dying a human death) those people, but because in allowing us to be 'grown up' and free God has to let our actions have consequences.  In terms of eternal salvation, which isn't what they meant, then of course God could save them, otherwise God wouldn't be God and Christ wouldn't have accomplished what he accomplished.

I think my theodicy is intact, and I think I can now not be cross with the line in the song.  And, on reflection, I'm glad it made me think.

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.