A bed of roses

The reading for today was from 1 Kings and described Solomon dedicating the temple. This then led to a discussion about our own worship and how we can work with the Holy Spirit. As the oldest inhabitant of St B's - in terms of years spent there rather than years spent on the planet - I got to talk about some of the changes I've seen.

I have a theory I call The Theology of Place. We are all called to be Somewhere. For some people, that means leaving one place and going to another - perhaps many, many times. For me, it means staying put. I was challenged by another member of my group that staying fixed could be unhealthy, and I agreed. Having just read Perelandra where the 'Eve' of Venus is forbidden from sleeping on the only fixed land on the planet, I see the danger in being rigid and dogmatic about staying forever in one spot. But whilst I've remained in the same place physically, that place has evolved so much.

First, there's the physical space. When I first went, there were pews along the sides of the main space as well as in the middle. The ones at the sides were removed in the mid-80s to make room for offices (with some of the pew backs being used in the construction), which were rented out to create an income stream. The main window, which depicts the Ascension, is framed by large pillars that used to be painted a dark red and were really obtrusive. They are now a light green and fade into the background. A few years ago, we realised our ambition of removing the remaining pews from the main space, and sanded and varnished the floor. This gives us a beautiful, flexible space.

Then there's our theology. In the 19th Century, a vicar at St Bride's prosecuted the vicar of St Margaret's up the road for having candles on his altar. Now, we light candles as part of our prayers. In 2007, we recognised that we would have to either change how we did things or close - so we changed. It's an ongoing experiment - and that's how we treat it. Let's try a thing - nope, didn't work. Or that bit of it was quite good - how can we make more of that? There is no 'failure', only 'learning'.

And there's my own growth. I've always found St B's to be a place of welcome - come in, join us, tells us what you want us to know about you, don't think you have to believe six impossible things before breakfast. That we have maintained. But it's fair to say that the relaunch gave me an opportunity to create a church in my own image. There was a period where it felt like we were a rebellious teenager - happy to live in the parental home (the C of E) whilst decrying everything about it as outdated and worthless. This was reflected in our worship that, at one point, was reduced to 'Hello, God' - chat - 'Goodbye, God'. But we've matured. I've matured. Reading Richard Rohr has definitely had an influence - I've moved away from dualistic either/or thinking, recognising the C of E for what it is - a human institution, run by human beings with all their faults and foibles, with occasional flashes of insight. And we're no better, we're just more open to questions.

Over the last few years, my role has become less and less pivotal. Other people have taken on the job of making sure things happen and I've been happy to let them. It's healthier for me and for the church. My ego sometimes whines that nobody knows what I DID - but I remember that what's important is that I did it, not that everybody knows about it.

And all of that is why it's important that I'm there. I'm the thread of continuity, through all the comings and goings. There's nobody else in our regular congregation who's been there more than 10 years - for a lot of them, it's less than 5. My 46 years of continuous attendance (minus a couple of years in my teens and the last 3 months of 2022) have seen so much CHANGE. And we're in for more of that when the new Rector starts.

I didn't say ALL of that this morning! And what I did say wasn't put as well. Yesterday's meditation from the CAC was written by a Choctaw elder who spoke of elders as guardians of the future not the past. I hold the memories so that we can move into the future.

And as I'm writing this, I'm reminded of what one of our former Rector's said about writing all of this down. Something to discuss with the new Rector, I think.

So, I had two evenings out this week - nothing exciting, though!  Both were church related meetings - the first was the church council, the second was an audit of a course on mission.  I was very pleasantly surprised by the open attitude of the tutor.  I can tend to get reverse-judgmental and believe we're the only church in the world that's open and accepting of everyone - you know, like Jesus was!  And, in fact, nobody in the room challenged the tutor, so hopefully they're all open and loving.  They are all there because they're training for ordination or readership; I'm there to support my LML work.

Speaking of which, we had a bit of an incident on Tuesday.  I gave my set of keys to my right-hand person so that they can open up early for our member who is wheelchair-bound, and lock up when we've finished.  I had already left because a) I had to get back to work and b) I don't have keys anymore.  They had a meeting with the Rector after the session, who hurried them off whilst said wheelchair bound person was waiting for a taxi, in the rain.  It was quite a while after the session had finished, what with tidying up and chat and I don't know when the taxi was ordered.  Anyway, we got the inevitable email from the person who wanted to make sure the same thing didn't happen to someone else.

I don't know how I feel about it.  I'm actually a bit shocked that they were bundled out and left to wait in the rain (even with an umbrella) - but they could have booked the taxi for a specific time, rather than calling the company and waiting on the vagaries of taxi drivers.  And they are a regular member; it could have been someone new to the group, and it could have been their first impression.  But if it had been a nice day, it wouldn't have been a problem!

Anyway, it happened.

Tuesday evening, I got a bit of a scratchy throat which, by Wednesday morning, had turned into a low level cold.  I've soldiered on through work supported by Lemsips, again.  I had a similar one towards the end of last year.  Over the last few years, I've had one big illness that has kept me off work.  Not sure which I prefer...  But we have a new sickness policy that monitors how many times you've been off work.  It's just...  If you're ill, you're ill!  Ongoing conditions are accounted for, though.

Also had a review of my PDPR with my new line manager.  They seemed surprised when I said I wanted to leave - but they changed jobs from the 'other' University after about 20 years there and at about the same age (my deadline is my 50th birthday next May), so they understood my need for a move.  The review went well, and I made it clear I still want to see the role developed, even if it's only so it's a nice package to hand on to the next person!

Had a final coffee with my work mentor, who has a job at the 'other' University.  At the start of the relationship they said, 'mentoring is a two-way process', but I think, in the end, they got more out of it than I did (and I did get a lot) because it reignited their faith and they've been coming to 'A Taste of God' on Tuesdays!  Who knew I could be an evangelist?!  (ROFL)

And tomorrow, I'm leading and speaking at St Bride's.  I think someone is trying to make me a vicar by stealth... *peers vaguely Heaven-wards'

The son was 29 the other day and we had the traditional chocolate orange marble cake (not very marbled but VERY tasty - best cake I've made in years).  He has an interview on Monday at a place he isn't sure how to get to, so he and I are on a magical mystery tour today to find it!

And that's life at the moment.