Sunday, 22 April 2012
This morning in kirk as the Gospel was being read [Luke 24: 36-48] the following verse managed to gently distract me from higher thoughts:
42They gave him a piece of broiled fish, 43and he took it and ate in their presence.
'Broiled fish', I wondered.
What on earth is 'broiled' fish?
I'd heard the term for years - every time that particular reading had come around the lectionary cycle once again - and it struck me that I actually hadn't a clue what it meant.
And so my tiny mind began to play around with cookery terminology, racking brain to remind self of what broiling involved.
The sermon drifted in and out of my consciousness...at times, I nodded in agreement with points made, such as our peculiar church language and how, outwith the kirk, folk would probably scratch their heads wondering what such and such a term meant. I confess, I immediately thought of the term 'intimations' - not as potentially exciting or lurid as might at first seem. But then my thoughts snaked back to the wretched word 'broiled', with no defining joy in sight. It's not as if I had never seen the word before, but today, for some bizarre reason, it just stood out and vexed my wee mind.
Now at home, I have just looked it up.
Apparently it's what our American friends over the Pond mean by grilling.
So... Jesus ate a piece of grilled fish.
Further Messianic/scriptural validation for barbecues, thought I.
And so, with that scintillatingly deep spiritual insight, my mind is at rest once more.
Wednesday, 18 April 2012
A lovely time last week, which saw me at a worship conference at the Cathedral of the Isles on the Isle of Cumbrae. This was put on as a pilot by Ministries Council as they explore reshaping the conference component of our training. The conference itself was led in very chilled out fashion by John Bell - who told us stories, shared his insights and experiences, and got us all thinking and talking. Unlike the usual conference frenzy of sessions and activities, with hosts of speakers on all manner of subjects, this smaller and more sharply defined conference gave time and space to reflect and be, as well as do. I am still chewing on all the food for thought provided, but certainly think that as a way forward for how we learn in our time of training, this really worked very, very well. It also helped that the setting was so scenic and that folk were able to go off and ponder quietly about the island, regroup, and then come back for more.
In the meantime, I am once again ensconced in the halls of New College, working my way through kirk session records, knee-deep in 16th c. fornication, adultery, and drunkenness...and so I plough on with the thesis of doooom.