Tonight our 'thing in a pub' had a social evening.  We were a few less people than usual but we had a guest - a minister from darkest HEBA (joke, honestly, I'm sure HEBA is not dark at all) who joined in wonderfully - and we had a great time.

We discovered how the two ministers had spent our 'youths' - so the other one can do a proper casino shuffle of Uno cards, whilst  I am more successful at Jenga (as taught to me by some Mancunian Anglicans!).

Our best success was a Jenga tower 32 storeys high - no mean feat for those who've played this game.  But probably the funniest moment of the evening was when I won the first hand of Uno - and promptly fell backwards off my stool into the coal skuttle!  And I'd only been drinking J2O honestly.

I think everyone enjoyed themselves, and we did have bar staff watching our Jenga tower growing higher and higher.

Just before the end of the evening a couple of men wandered into the lounge where we meet, apologised and started to back away unti we invited them in.  We were mid-hand of Uno at the time and one said 'what's this then, a seance' which (fortunately) caused us all great hilarity.  Perhaps as well they didn't come earlier and see the fallen Vicar of Dibley?!

I really hope our folk were encouraged that someone had travelled to see us in our unusual way of being church.  Next month we have a minister who does family history coming to share something of his work and story... hopefully with some laughter too, but perhaps I'd better take up beer to stop me falling off the chairs!!

Eee bah gum, Postman Pat got religion!  Thank to Andy J for pointing me to Christian Pat and his Charismatic Cat

Enjoy!

In an attempt to bridge the chasm between church and lunch club, we've decided that twice a year we'll take church to the sheltered complexes where many of the members live, and twice a year we'll invite them to a special of ours.  The first attempt occurs on Low Sunday, and yesterday I handed out slips for people to request hymns for us to sing.  The choices are, for the most part, predictable and frankly quite funereal, though there are a few really lovely ones.

What was more telling was the reasons stated for the choices - almost always that it was their parents' favourite - which probably means they last sang it at a funeral anyway.  These, mostly Victorian,  hymns would have been fairly 'modern' when these people's parents learned them and are now old standards.  I think what saddens me slightly is that these lovely people - mostly in their 80's, and ranging from 65 to 102 - don't 'own' any hymns or songs of their own.  What will their children or grandchildren choose, if anything, when the time comes to say 'goodbye'?

As I look back over my own family, and the funerals I've attended, at least we have always sung hymns/songs that mattered to the individuals rather than the ones that we happened to know because they were sung at funerals.

Still, we will sing the hymns that have been chosen, and I will make sure I have a suitably large supply of tissues on hand for 'Abide with me' (which is far too good to be kept for funerals anyway and was actually written, so far as I understand, as an evening hymn).  Old rugged crosses, unfailing love and protective sheperds - these are great themes to sing about even if I will have to blank the images and lily-scents of Loughborough Crem from my mind!!

This morning I have, at the third attempt, completed a sermon for Friday, based on my WISDOM, Wisdom, wisdom scheme, and hints from the three characters in the stories.

It was as I pondered Martha that Sophia gave me a shove, in that gentle but firm way she does, with a half smile on her face because of course you really already know what she's going to say, and you know that she's right...

"Martha, Martha, you are upset and worried by many things..."

Yup, that's me!  Tired, anxious about this little church, annoyed with situations, trying not to be annoyed with people...

Until today, cos I'm very slow on the uptake, it had never occurred to me that there is no record of Martha speaking to Mary about her lack of help.  So did she speak to her?  Once?  Several times?  Did she resort to speaking to Jesus as a final attempt because direct attempts had failed?  Or had she, as I would, soldiered on and muttered to herself?!

What - or who - prompted her to speak to Jesus about it?  Did she recognises authority?  Compassion?  Justice?  What was Sophia whispering in Martha's ear?

Do I, do we, like Martha 'take it to the Lord,' or do we struggle on, until we break or blow?

"Catriona, Catriona, you are upset and worried by many things... and you are right to be concerned, but put down your duster [metaphorical, I rarely dust!] and sit with me a while... these things won't go away overnight, if at all, but I need you whole, not full of holes.  Be still.... stop what you are doing... and allow the I AM God to hold you safe in the storm."

Today I sat down and emailed my deacons my annual leave intentions for this year.  As I won't use the last of last year's until April (only 2 days) it has given me rather inflated pleasure to book a three week block in August!  This will consist of two weeks walking Offa's Dyke followed by almost a week at a theology conference in Manchester.  Whether this is sublime to ridiculous or vice versa only time will tell.  What is rather nice is that the two are linked by a preach at my 'sending' church in dear old Warrington.

I also fixed my week's study leave in early April (before the last of last year's annual leave!) and am all set to spend five days away from it all at St Deniol's library in Wales.  Not a rest, as I have not one but two conference papers to prepare in a decent draft form (not least as the university needs a draft to be presented a week or so later!) but it will be a total break from the stresses of dear old Dibley.

Thus I am feeling fairly cheerful tonight, and looking forward to lots of lovely varied time away, refreshing body, mind and spirit.  Bliss!