Safe to publish

I haven't written anything like this before because I thought I was being stereotypical and unfair, and in my new job I'm meant to challenge and demolish stereotypes. However, a conversation with one of the new students revealed that he has had similar experiences, so it must be true.

Soundbites of Cambridge:

1. Overheard following a well heeled family in the town centre, hovering near a tea room: "Mater, shall we venture inside this establishment? Tarquin rather fancies some tiffin". Translation: Mum, I'm just going to get some fridge cake"

2. While punting on the Cam, the day after exam results were out, the general sound was:
"Fwah, fwah, fwah, SPLASH. (pause) oh, Rupert! Pass the Pims"


Some things will never change. Cambridge, I love your ambience, but I'd find it really quite difficult to live with you permanently. You're just not my type.

Year 2 beckons

It's almost time to stop writing about 'what I did in my holidays' (although, just like school, I do have to do a presentation on that very subject) because it's nearly october, so it must be time to go back to Ridley!

However, the Back To School sales finished long ago. Because it's nearly Christmas. I will never get used to these Cambridge micro-terms. Mad. And traditional. Harder to change than the Church of England.

Over the last few weeks we've been meeting the first years who have been drifting into Cambridge and turning up to various social events. At first I found it hard to answer the question "What year are you in?", as I still felt like a first year. But as I've now answered the question enough times, or others have answered it for me, I can confidently say that I'm a second year. And that means it's also my final year.

I've looked at my course options and confirmed that they're not really options, in that having had no prior theological education I have to take the core modules, the plain vanilla option for the course. I do get a choice of which term I study the Old Testament in, and I do want to do one extra course which everybody recommends. The only question remaining for me now is one of assessment. I don't have to be assessed in all the courses in order to pass the course. So I'm looking carefully at the essay titles - if I understand the title now, before I start, I've got a good chance on that essay. If on the other hand the titles wash over me like Mr Bean talking I think I'll choose differently.

Still waiting patiently for the Bishop to drop any hints about a job though... Lord Bishop, if you're reading this - hello!

Holy Bones Batman!

I'm a little confused. Some of the bones of St Therese are currently touring the UK in order that those who believe that the relic will heal may touch them and be healed.

I have a few problems with this.

1. If you believe that God can supernaturally heal an illness (and I do, having heard enough modern day evidence for it from trusted friends) then why do you need to rely on channeling this belief through a long dead person's remains?

2. You can't actually touch the bones. They're enclosed in a casket, so the nearest you can get to actually touching them is the box they're in. So does the box have the healing powers, or the bones, or the box but only when it's got the bones in it?

3. Due to swine flu precautions you can't touch the box, or as is more traditionally done, kiss the box in case you catch or transmit swine flu. So, you've gone to be healed of something, believing God will heal you, but you can't kiss the relic in case it makes you ill.........

I'm not sure which to treat with more contempt - the healing properties of a bit of bone, or the complete over-reaction we're having to swine flu.

Calendars

As I was thinking about my old job earlier today I realized that there are many small changes in your life that accumulate over time to make a huge contrast. Today’s small change was calendar related.

For some strange reason I was thinking about how we reckon time. In a couple of days when the solistice comes it will officially be Autumn. In my old Project Managers head the end of September was always ‘week 39’ – each quarter of the year was 13 weeks long, so I always knew that the end of March was wk 13, June was wk26, Sept was wk39, Dec (obviously) was wk52. We rarely scheduled things according to the actual date – usually we knew how many weeks tasks took, so we worked things out that way, much easier than working with months of variable length. Weeks tended to ‘start’ on a Monday, unless you were using a particular piece of bespoke planning software, which for some reason known only by some bean counters in Eindhoven had the week starting on Saturday.

So to most people today is Saturday September 19th, but to my old self it was wk37.6, and to me now it is also the 7th Day of Trinity 15. All clear? No? Read on!

For a few fleeting months last summer I was able to work to the normal calendar, before getting swept into a combination of the Cambridge academic calendar where 3 brief bouts of work called ‘Michaelmas’, ‘Lent’ and ‘Hilary’ (no idea, sorry!) are punctuated by long periods of apparent inactivity, and the Church (or ‘liturgical’) calendar, in which the year begins somewhere around the end of November.

As my life is shortly to be dominated by the liturgical calendar, here’s a potted summary.
The year starts with Advent, 4 Sundays before Christmas, which tends to hover around the last few days of November/first few days of December. So that Sunday is ‘Advent 1’ and is followed by Advent 2, Advent 3, Advent 4 and Christmas Day (which isn’t necessarily a Sunday of course). It’s nice and easy for me now that my week starts on a Sunday. Except of course I might end up having a day off on Monday or Tuesday, in which case it’s almost over before it’s started. But here in Cambridge for me the only day that’s truly a day off is Saturday, so it’s nice and neat for the moment.

After Christmas Day most clergy collapse in a heap, take a week off and rejoice that New Year is not a church festival. But the calendar plunges on relentlessly, through ‘Christmas 1’ and ‘Christmas 2’ (yes, the Twelve Days of Christmas come from us!) to Epiphany in early January, and then (I guess you’re getting the hang of this now) through to Epiphany 4 before it’s Ordinary Time.

Yes, plain old vanilla Ordinary Time, which is what the church calls it when it can’t think of a better name. This pads the gaps in the calendar – sometimes well, sometimes pathetically as was the case in 2008 when the gap between Epiphany and Lent was a whole two days. More Ordinary Time later.

Lent begins 40 days (not counting Sundays) before Easter Day, which moves about through March and April* and takes us through Lent 1 to Lent 5. Lent 6 is called Palm Sunday, and then it’s Holy Week and Easter. After Easter most clergy collapse in a heap, take a week off and rejoice that the next church festival isn’t for another 8 weeks.

So that takes us through to Easter 7, followed by Pentecost in late May/early June. A sporting fact about Pentecost is that the Monaco Grand Prix is always held that weekend. We’re always ancouraged to wear red for Pentecost, and it’s difficult to not be mistaken for a Ferrari fan.

Now we find ourselves back in Ordinary Time with the Sunday which gives its name to the most Sundays in the year, Trinity Sunday – our annual opportunity to preach sermons about ice, water and steam being of one substance but of different appearances, a bit like God: Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

Nearly there now, as we’ve not managed to invent anything major to celebrate for the next 21-23 weeks. Either that or somebody decided that as everybody would be on holiday around now there was no point. So we now plod our way through Trinity 2 to Trinity 23, although prayer book writers always seem to be reluctant to write specific prayers to use on Trinity 22 and 23 as they won’t be used very often. You may notice that in these weeks some of the standard prayers sound quite a lot like the ones from Trinity 21….

Actually Trinity 21 is quite popular for Church of England prayer book writers – if there’s ever an occasion when they were lacking inspiration or couldn’t be bothered they will refer you to the Collect (Special Prayer) for Trinity 21.

So that’s the top level view of the church year. I used to moan as a Project Manager that major milestones always had a tendency to slip towards Easter, Christmas or the holiday periods. Now I’m going to be working where that’s an unavoidable fact.

*There’s a formula relating the date of Easter to the ‘n’th Full Moon of the calendar year, invented by some Pope or other. Yes, it would be easier to have a fixed week for it, but it’s not worth falling out over.

A slightly different wedding

Watch this wedding video. Who says the bride's entrance has to be formal?

Restoring Prayer

This last weekend there was a Very Special Event at Ridley - the Simeon Centre's first conference - 'Restoring Prayer' - ready for birth after a two years gestation.

The marquee returned to the Ridley lawn and between Thursday and Sunday over 300 delegates gathered, hearing addresses from (amongst others) Eugene Peterson, the author of 'The Message', a contemporary paraphrase of the Bible, and Alistair McGrath, one of the few theologians that Richard Dawkins will lower himself to talk to. A varied programme of worship, addresses and seminars had been put together by a dedicated team from Ridley's Simeon Centre, and was supported by Ridley staff (my tutor was Eugene's chaffeur!) and students past and present.

As one of about 60 volunteers I got to go to anything I wanted to for free, and it's not often you get to hear the names on your bookshelf speak, so when I wasn't on duty setting things up or tearing them down I turned up to as much as I could and started to practice my note taking technique ready for the resumption of college in 3 weeks time!

Attention for me now turns to the small matter of writing a sermon for next Sunday when I return to my placement at Histon, and I start to think about the report and presentation on the placement which I need to get out of the way before term starts.

The conference organisers now have a chance to catch their breath, and possibly a little sleep.

"The answers my friend are blowing in the wind..."

Have I just quoted Bob Dylan there? Dunno. Don't really care.

Part Two of my summer/autumn holiday in Wales reflects on two aspects of Creation. That's Creation as in The Created Universe, not the verb, as I had neither the time, equipment or the inclination to attempt to rival what God's already done. I couldn't fit it in the car.

A couple of nights were clear enough for me to be able to go outside and marvel at the stars and planets. Although we were only three miles from the nearest town we were shielded from the glow of artificial light by the surrounding landscape, so you only needed to be outdoors for a couple of minutes before you could see the Milky Way. Look, there it is.

Click on the picture so it enlarges and the white haze that you can see is the Milky Way. I took that picture myself. No the stars aren't out of focus - in the 2 minute exposure the earth rotated enough that the stars leave a trail on the picture...

The second mountain was definitely climbed on purpose. This time we had proper shoes, fleeces, waterproofs, and most importantly a flask! We climbed Lord Hereford's Knob (I kid you not!) at a more leisurely pace than Isaac's usual, and it was so worth it. Truly panoramic views, and a ferocious wind that reminds you of its power. It's not uncommon to refer to the Holy Spirit as being like wind - I think people would be truly astounded and in no doubt what it was if experiencing it was anything like this.

Theologians often speak of people having 'mountaintop experiences'. My particular experience on this occasion included laughter at not being able to stand up in the wind, amusement at a teenage strop, and amazement at the view laid out all around me. God created all of it - even the teenage strop....

The Lost Sheep Climbs Every Mountain

One of the distinct advantages of being (nearly) clergy is that little things pop up out of the woodwork, like the opportunity to enjoy a holiday at a substantial discount. Even if that means you have to go to the middle of nowhere o'clock in Wales.

Wales should market itself as being ahead of the times - we left England enjoying its summer and found Wales was already into autumn weather. This meant that Tasha could enjoy using the Aga in the cottage. Not only does an Aga provide a constant source of heat, meaning that a kettle boils in a fraction of the normal time and that the building is permanently toasty (you could wander around in swimwear inside even if you couldn't outside), but it also burns an incredible amount of oil at the landlord's expense!

With no TV, Playstation or Wii the only entertainment was board games, books and jigsaws and we had a lovely week together as a familywithout the usual technological distrcations, although Beth's initial enthusiasm for her 1000 piece challenge wore off after the first time, leaving me and Isaac to complete it under more and more pressure as the week wore on.

One day we hired two-man canoes and paddled for 5 miles down the River Hay between Glasbury and Hay-On-Wye. I think Tasha and Beth did more teamwork in their boat - Isaac was a passenger for much of my trip, but was enjoying it anyway. We went past ducks and swans and the girls spotted kingfishers, which are really speedy!

We also climbed mountains. The first time was an accident - we were driving around in the late afternoon, stopped at a car park to look at the view, and before we knew it Isaac had gone in the opposite direction determined to 'climb that mountain'. Not taking him seriously we gave him a bit of freedom, until I realised that he had gone past the easy lower slope and wasn't turning back. By the time I had reached the same point in hot pursuit I was already exhausted and 15 minutes behind him. People coming in the opposite direction in their full waterproofs and sensible hiking boots, seeing me dressed in trainers, T-shirt and shorts were warning me that the weather was about to turn. But turing back wasn't an option, as I had to retrieve my lost sheep. The Oxford English Dictionary defines a mountain as "a natural elevation of the earth surface rising more or less abruptly from the surrounding level and attaining an altitude which, relatively to the adjacent elevation, is impressive or notable.". Let me assure you that this particular mountain met all those criteria. It's just that I couldn't really appreciate that as I was breathlessly ascending its abrupt elevations. In fact I probably set some sort of record in my ascent - I've never gone upwards under my own propulsion so fast. The picture at the top of the article doesn't do justice to it - it's 200 metres up from that point, pretty much at 45 degrees most of the way. And when I got to the top of the path the Lost Sheep was nowhere in sight. He'd gone off in search of the actual top of the mountain, and re-appeared after a couple of minutes having obviously found the triangulation point at the summit. He was ready to run back down and couldn't understand why I needed five minutes rest before going back down. I was 'slightly' annoyed with him for wandering off on his own, but also quietly impressed that he was pleased with himself for climbing a mountain all on his own.

Jesus lets us have the freedom to do what we want. If we run off up some mountain of our own he doesn't stop us. In Matthew Chapter 18 he tells the story of the Lost Sheep, putting himself as the shepherd.

Verses 12-14 (The Message) "Look at it this way. If someone has a hundred sheep and one of them wanders off, doesn't he leave the ninety-nine and go after the one? And if he finds it, doesn't he make far more over it than over the ninety-nine who stay put? Your Father in heaven feels the same way. He doesn't want to lose even one of these simple believers.

You might be one of those lost sheep who has wandered far away from the path that Jesus would have you on - but he still searches for you and wants to greet you when you are ready to be found.

And He can get up a mountain faster than I can.