Sabbath! And a mad idea

We had a pleasant change from the usual end-of-term short courses this week. We have become accustomed to being shut in a room with 70 other people, allowing Powerpoint to wallow over us and lull us into a catatonic state for a day or so in the week between teaching finishing and term actually ending. However this term was different. With nothing on the calendar I was looking forward to a solid 3 day run at getting my Life and Service essay written. And then, 3 weeks ago we found out that this would not be the case. We were going to have 'compulsory fun' instead, being encouraged to take out at least a half-day in the first half of the week as a 'Sabbath' - a complete break, where we were to spend time recharging our batteries doing something we don't normally get a chance to do.

A Day Off.

There were mixed feelings about this. More than one person was heard to comment that they don't normally get a chance to write an essay so that would be a pleasant change. I wouldn't mind if what was being modelled to us was good long-term planning, but as I've already said, my long-term plan was to use the time to do some work before a deadline, which was the Thursday of the week that we were being told to take time off in!!

As I usually don't do major college work at the weekend, I ended up not working Saturday and Sunday, working like fury on Monday and into early Tuesday morning so that I could take Tuesday off as my Sabbath. I then got my head down on Wednesday, wrote the essay and handed it in on Thursday, when we broke up for Easter. And I've now got a month off..... Brilliant plan!


Having said that, we had a lovely Day Off. We headed over to Ely Cathedral, where we wandered around, had a free guided tour, went in their stained glass museum, took lots of photos and had lunch in the Almondry restuarant nearby before pootling round shops for a while (that bit wasn't my idea!). It was really refreshing to do something completely unrelated to college, and I made a point of doing no work when we got home, even though I could feel the pressure of the unfinished essay.

It was a good exercise to do though. It set a good precedent for when I start Real Work this summer and I start Living At The Office, where boundaries between work and leisure can become very blurred if you let them.

In the spirit of constructive feedback, I've suggested that in future we try to take such breaks in the middle of term, maybe in half-term week - even though the college doesn't do half-term we generally have half or whole days free of timetabled activities each and every week that we could use as Official Down-Time.

And finally, I had a Mad Idea. I've recently become fascinated by cathedrals, how and why they are built, how they serve their communities, how they have evolved. So I've decided that I want to visit all the English cathedrals. There are 'only' 44 of them (or 42 if you exclude the Isle of Man and Gibraltar). If I were Dave Gorman i would now do something irrational, such as committing to do this before my ordination. but I'm not Dave, so I'll just settle for visiting them all at some point in the future. Even 4 per year seems adventurous. Do the math(s)

Should keep me out of trouble.

I've got a Prezi for you!

We had fun in chapel tonight. My fellow student Chris told me about a new piece of audio-visual software called Prezi, which is a great alternative to the ubiquitous Powerpoint, and a bit more flexible. It has some limitation, but it's free and very easy to use.

Here's the result, with what we used tonight:

The main sequence

Psalm 63

Get it at www.prezi.com

Luke, I am your father....

Last year I went along as a spectator, and spent about 20 minutes hanging around. This year I spend nearly 3 hours being measured and trying on clerical garb at what is known as the Tat Fair.

My fashion consultant accompanied me, to ensure that I didn't make any expensive mistakes or choose unwise colours - this is easily the most expensive clothing I've ever bought. But most of what I've ordered today will last me for the rest of my life, unless my shape changes drastically. I've ordered a cassock, a surplice, a preaching scarf, a clerical hoodie and a dual purpose cloak / Jedi costume - which unfortunately doesn't have an internal lightsaber pocket.

It's amazing how casually you can spend hundreds of pounds when you know somebody else is paying for it - we all get a grant to cover the cost of equipping ourselves with the right clothing for the job, and I went with what felt and looked right, rather than looking too closely at the price tag. Some of my colleagues have spent the bare minimum, but that tends to reflect the fact that they will wear the formal robes very little in their weekly duties. Where I'm going I'll be wearing robes Sunday by Sunday, conducting funerals in blustery country churchyards, and hunting down Darth Vader in my spare time.

Look away now if you don't want a preview of the future.

I've yet to order any shirts or stoles (seasonal coloured scarves) as the huge range on display left our heads spinning. Apparently the choices available have considerably widened since women were ordained. And that's a good thing - there is a core set of traditional vicar's shirt colours which I don't particularly like, and it's nice that I can pretty much nominate a colour and find that there will be a shirt available in it. So there's a lot to thank the girls for!!

I did try a couple of shirts on. It's a scary moment when you put that stiff piece of plastic in your collar. Keep this photo to yourself. Don't tell the rest of the internet about it. I think it's an offence to impersonate a clergyman!

Next I just need to find some nice jackets, comfy shoes, some important looking service books, office equipment.....

Forgiven. By Sally Traffic

Further to my earlier article about St Edmund I've now made my confession to a wider audience on Radio 2's 'Confessions' today. (follow the link, it starts at about 37 mins 20 secs into this, but is only there for the next 7 days!)

The good news is that I've been absolved by Father Simon, Brother Matt, Mother Sally and Sister Foxy. So everything is clear for July.

Now, must remember not to mislead parishioners in a similar manner.....

Leaving so soon?

We are already approaching 'The End'. The end of the Lent Term is only 3 weeks away. Two more Sundays and my commitments at my attachment church, St Georges, come to a conclusion. I can be a free agent on a Sunday morning during my final term.

So with this landmark appearing it was time for a farewell pint. And it was on the way to the farewell pint that I realised that the end of my time in Cambridge is really coming to an end. This week I started getting quotes for the house move, so I can set a move date, so I can give notice to our rental agency, which needs to happen next week! That point will mark 'three months to go'.

Am I ready for this?

Big Speakers and Dead Flowers

It was one of those days today. Got very little done, but had a good time doing it.

We welcomed Mike Pilavachi as a guest speaker for a special lecture to the entire Federation this afternoon, as well as preacher at Federation Worship, which meant that we spent all afternoon setting up the sound equipment and soundchecking with the band. In turn this meant that the things I normally spend all Tuesday doing (preparation for lectures for the rest of the week) got compressed or ignored in a small 2 hour slot in the morning.

Mike is somewhat of a celebrity amongst those who have worked with youth - he's the founder of the Soul Survivor annual festivals, amongst other achievements - so many people were looking forward to hearing him speak. Knowing that I was going to be the sound engineer today meant that there was a fair chance I'd be meeting him. However, I didn't expect to go totally incoherent within 30 seconds of meeting him.

The church doorbell rings (yes, they have doorbells!). I answer it. There, like a drowned rat in the pouring rain is a dripping wet Greek bloke. I let him in, introduce myself, he asks me which year I'm in, and I go incoherent trying to explain that I'm a second and final year! I feel like Jar Jar Binks (see illustration). Hardly a great first impression. However, later conversation is a greater improvement. In his lecture Mike spoke of his regret that at Soul Survivor 2009 he encouraged a Big Top full of young people to turn to Jesus, but didn't explain the cost of being a disciple. Afterwards in a quiet corner I catch him and we discuss the effect that obedience to God's call has on not only my own life, but also that of my children who will shortly have to move for the second time in two years, and make friends all over again.

It's interesting the effect that a 'celebrity' speaker has on Fed Worship. We've never had to put extra chairs out before.

Afterwards, clearing up, I demonstrate why churches shouldn't have flowers out in Lent, as I drop a rather heavy speaker (of the audio variety) on top of a lovely arrangement of daffodils and tulips. The speaker won.

Don't stop me now!

I preached a homily in chapel yesterday morning.

"What's a homily?" I hear you all mumble....

It's a very short sermon, a micro-talk, slightly longer than a tweet. About 3 minutes long, which isn't time to say an awful lot. Basically, you need to choose one point and stick to it. In front of the whole college.

The text I was given to work with was the story of Jacob wrestling with God (Genesis chapter 32), after which he walked with a limp for the rest of his life. Which is apt, given that my walking posture is not exactly normal these days.

We opened with a very laid-back jazz version of Queen's "Don't Stop Me Now" playing as people came in for Morning Prayer (go to itunes and search for 'Jeroen van der Boom'), which is unusual in itself. It was important to choose the right style of this song, as the original Queen version at 8.15am would have been too much!

This talk was delivered with the chairs arranged facing inwarsd to the aisle, so that I could amble up and down and look people in the eye to challenge them at certain points. I hadn't anticipated how well this would emphasise the fact that I was walking - a very physical demonstration of my point!

My text follows:

As I was thinking about this homily I was sitting in a seminar considering the following verses from Matthew 9, and it struck me how appropriate they were for the message that was swimming around in my head:

And as Jesus sat at dinner in the house, many tax-collectors and sinners came and were sitting with him and his disciples. When the Pharisees saw this, they said to his disciples, ‘Why does your teacher eat with tax-collectors and sinners?’ But when he heard this, he said, ‘Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick [do]. Go and learn what this means, “I desire mercy, not sacrifice.” For I have come to call not the righteous but sinners.’

Do you need a physician? I wonder if you realize that you are sick? In last week’sDimbleby lecture Sir Terry Pratchett spoke of his Alzheimers disease, how over a number of years he noticed that his typing wasn’t as good as it had been, that he wasn’t noticing things, that gradually life was changing.

In our reading from Genesis today we heard of how Jacob wrestled with God, and had a sudden change in his leg. He was left with a limp for the rest of his life.

I wonder how that passage spoke to you. For me it was an interesting choice, because, like Jacob, I’ve got a dodgy leg. In fact I’ve got two dodgy legs. But like Sir Terry, I didn’t even know that I had for a long time. For several years before I came to Ridley people at work asked me why I was walking ‘like that’, and I, reassured by family, told them that I’ve always walked ‘like that’. It’s only when I got here and met a whole pile of concerned new friends, who were trying desperately to exercise their new found pastoral skills, along with a physiotherapist at my attachment church who told me that actually we’ve never had an acolyte who walks ‘like that’ and I really ought to get it seen to, that I started to think ‘maybe there is something wrong’. And within thirty seconds of meeting my consultant, he could tell that there was something not quite right with me. But the diagnosis had to wait until somebody had the chance to put some serious voltages through my legs…

You see, the motor nerves to my toes, feet and ankle are slowly losing communication with my brain. It’s called a neuropathy, and it’s unlikely that anything can be done about it. It’s taken 40 years to get as far as not being able to stand on tiptoes, and I didn’t even know I couldn’t do that until I was asked to… So I might end up walking with a stick. Now I understand why I was finding it so difficult to climb the 54 stairs to my study at the top of ‘A’ staircase last year. Now I know why my legs get tired in the middle of a long shopping expedition, or why I sometimes need to hold onto the chair in front of me during a long liturgical stand. Like Jacob I’ve been living with a limp. Unlike Jacob I didn’t even realize I had it. So if this time last year Jesus had told me I needed to see a physician (whether literally or metaphorically) I might have laughed at him and said “Not me, Jesus, I don’t need a doctor. I’m alright. You must mean somebody else.” But, if we’re talking in the same metaphor as Jesus, that puts me in the same place as the Pharisees, who thought that they had no need of a physician.

I know I’m not perfect – yet – but that’s the stuff I’m aware of. I know the things that I keep confessing and promising not to do again, but that keep coming back. What behaviours am I not aware of? Maybe sometimes I think “that’s just me, take it or leave it” when in reality I need to change something. There are the words that spill out of us when we're stressed or caught off guard that reflect the real inner 'me', not the professional ‘shields up’ public front that we start to develop here.

Are you busy saying “Don’t stop me now. I’m having such a good time” to Jesus?
What does he want to bring to your attention that you’re ignoring?

Picture (c) thebricktestament.com