Yesterday was the Feast of Christ the King – and that meant a lovely baptism service of a pair of twins.
Here’s how it went:
Unbridled joy.
Yesterday was the Feast of Christ the King – and that meant a lovely baptism service of a pair of twins.
Here’s how it went:
Unbridled joy.
Kelvin – that cracked me almost as much as your last tweet on the left of your blog ;-)!
Ryan, although you address your comment to Kelvin like I am not there. I assume you are referring to my poem, I can assure you that it does not crack me up watching you making any opinion you may have untenable.
No Jimmy – I think Ryan was indeed referring to my last comment, above.
Thank you Kelvin and Sorry Ryan.
No worries! Was indeed referring to the v.amusing coming out day tweets at the side.
I’m not sure there’s ever existed anyone, anywhere,at any time, of whom it could be said that *all* their opinions are ‘untenable’, so such rhetoric is dehumanising at best. Apropos nothing, I was moved to google the poetic stylings of the great David Brent. Who needs Auden? 😉
http://murfinsandburglars.com/2009/04/14/bad-poetry-for-tuesday-david-brent-edition/
Kelvin; no, I think it distracts. It simp;ly reminds us that this is how your mind works: you make connections and delight in that sort of word-play. However, to sharpen up my point. Thank you for helping me to realise that, for some, ‘family’ is not a positive word in the way in which I experience it. For my part, this willl mean that I will be more careful about its use when others might feel excluded (and therefore hurt). Mutatis mutandi can you accept that I feel offended by what seems to be merely a casual linking between family and the f word? These are sensitive areas, but sensibilities are by no means confined to those who find family a painful or unhelpful concept.
I am slightly nervous aboaut the alternatives to the 1982 Liturgy, not because I don’t share the inclusive sentiments expressed above (I do). I fear that, as so often in the history of the church, the steps we take to avoid one kind of mistake in the way we talk about God can lead us into another. The avoidance of pronouns as a measure to achieve inclusivity produces inelegant, strained and stilted English. How would it be if one were to use it in day-to-day speech? ‘I saw John this morning. I asked John’s how John’s health was. John said that John was over his flu, and hoped to be back at work on Monday’. This may not in itself seem to be a problem. But in fact, what very quickly happens when we adopt this idiom in addressing/expressing God, is that the very idea of a personal God begins to recede. My basic instinct is that the church’s language of pulbic prayer is properly anchored in that of the scriptures. There are dangers in departing from this. The perceived problem (rightly perceived) is perhaps better tackled by good teaching about the nature of God, than by linguistic contortions that produce stilted prayers, and possibly a less real and vivid idea of God.
About the family imagery – another reason to drop it in church is for the sake ones who, like me, do actually have the signifying family relationships.
There is too much pressure on day to day life with children when that life is forced to serve as some kind of example or testimony or witness to the world – or more likely one’s church friends – about the nature of God.
I think it sours love because in that kind of scheme loving children is more fundamentally a means to an end.
This pic was taken yesterday in St Mary’s. It shows, from left to right, The Rt Rev Idris Jones of Glasgow and Galloway (Bishop & Primus), The Rt Rev Bright Ogu, Bishop of Mbaise in Nigeria and the Very Rev, the Skinny Provost of St Mary’s Cathedral, Glasgow. It was nice to hear booming around…
Following the broadcast last Sunday, several people have been kind enough to send me this poem by Ann Lewin. Prayer is like watching for the Kingfisher. All you can do is Be where he is likely to appear and wait. Often, nothing much happens; There is space, silence and Expectancy. No visible sign, only the…
Ten years ago today, I was made a deacon. That was the day I moved into ordained ministry, started wearing a dog-collar, (and a suit!) and began work at St Ninian’s Cathedral in Perth, where I served my curacy. To be honest, I don’t remember that much about the service now. Fr Kevin Pearson preached.…
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