In Ruth's comment on my last post she alludes to theology that is 'after the fact' - i.e. that is made up, oops developed, to account for practice, rather than practice that emerges directly from theology.

This made me wonder if all theology is actually 'after the fact' - arising from or responding to experience or practice.  This would make all theology practical theology (which from an academic perspective lays heaps of emphasis on its emergence form experience/practice) - something I seem to recall was said by Moltmann, though I may well be wrong.

I also wondered how robust some of our theology really is either - is it maybe actually 'after a fashion', with the phrase meaning, as it did in my youth, 'kind of'?  If I'm honest some of my phraseology around little cup communion is definitely 'theology after a fashion.'

So, if anyone can come up with an example of irrefutably 'before the fact' theology, I'd love to know what it is!

Not to be taken too seriously!

Talking with my Anglican colleague this morning, who has been sent guidelines for safer communion practices to prevent the spread of porkine influenza, and presumably plague, ague, and other nasties.  No more common cups until further notice - the Anglican communion will adopt the RC practice of communion under one kind only, though evidently the vicar, having purified her/his hands (two stations may be provided to accommodate those with theological objections to girls) with alcoholic gel may intinct for you...  Hmm, very meaningful to have a soggy wafer plonked on your hand I'm sure.

Apparently another local vicar has ordered in 2000 disposable individual glasses plus trays... non-conformity smuggly smiles I suspect.

But of course, our common bread roll or even our evil habit of tiny squares is not immune from this risk - maybe we should go over to wafers? Noooo!

So here is my grand plan (patent pending) for hygienic communion supplies.  Available in multiplies of ten from www....

Individually packaged Communion sets, containing your choice of one wafer (with or without 'little man') or one cube of slightly stale white bread and one tiny cup of wine (alcoholic or otherwise), ribena or grape juice.  Presented in tasteful plastic tray, hermetically sealed, autoclaved and with complimentary antiseptic wipe (alcoholic or antibacterial according to your religious preferences).  Quick and easy distribution to all members of the congregation.  Choice of liturgical colours (green, red, purple, gold, unbleached calico) or clear trays.  "Easy peel" plastic film guaranteed to make a very loud noise when ripped from the tray; wine topped with almost impossible to remove foil seal.  Allergy warning: females may have been present during manufacturing process.

Coming soon... new liturgical forms to use with our amazing new product.

I expect someone else has already come up with this idea, and done so better than I, but hey, it was fun and distraction from endless shredding...

When I used to work in the nuclear industry an increasing amount of effort went into what was termed "legacy issues" - basically work concerned with what happened after the stations were closed and decomissioned, as vital as the work done during their working life.  The next few weeks sees me doing "legacy issues" for church.  In a sense this is quite affirming - that people want to continue some of the intitiatives I've led seems on the whole a good thing, even if it does mean a lot of faffing around to pull together what they think they need.

Among the requests to date is some guidelines on how to do the lunch time prayer meetings for Lent and Advent, including "where do you get the sheets from" (er, I make them up!).  I am really pleased that people want to continue to meet for prayer in this way, and that they are ready to accept the challenges of hosting, cooking and leading.  So now I guess I need to get them some study books/guides to start them off (I don't quite make it up ex nihilo, I adapt study material) and produce some outline forms based on the various 'daily office' books kicking around my house.

If one of my legacies is that people continue to meet for prayer and fellowship, then that's a good thing.  Plus it gives me the confidence to offer something similar a few degrees north...

Finally, despite the worst efforts of my computer to lose it, I have a draft of my research proposal essay thingy sent out for comment to the two kindhearted souls who are willing to act as my supervisors. It is 1000 words over the limit (nothing new there) and I have bibliographic footnotes in places that take half a page - 17th Century Baptists didn't go in for snappy titles.  Alas the bit that pleases me most is that I have 8 sides of bibliography (single spaced), giving me vague hope that in another three years I might be able to run to the 20-odd pages that most theses seem to have!

The good news is I can now forget it for a fortnight.  Hurray!

Small things make big differences - anyone who thinks otherwise has never spent a night with a mosquito (according to Anita Roddick among others).  Other kinds of mites have a mighty effect too - as we have been discovering in dear old Dibley.

Two examples:

A couple of weeks back we all signed a card for a small church whose building was about to be closed leaving them in the wilderness - a place we know too well.  It cost us next to nothing, just a bit of time to add our names, but it meant a lot to the recipients.

As part of our clutter clearing, we uncovered three spare copies of BPW music edition (the red book) (after we'd kept a couple for ourselves) and a small number of BHB words edition (the green book) which we offered via our Association newsletter to any church who could collect them or pay postage.  Within 24 hours I have rehomed the red books and some of the green books to three other churches: two are HM funded, one very very tiny, one struggling as we are with extremist politics, and one going through a tricky interregnum.  All three are thrilled with our cast off, shop-soiled music books, two telling me they've been looking for a copy for ages...

There's a saying about the person who does nothing because they can't do much.  We've done a few tiny things and through them God will bless people we'll never meet... kind of reminds me of a widow with copper coins and a lad with a few fish butties really.

Sounds like a quick rendition of BPW 358 (without the emendation that removes the mite) is called for...