'rabbits', relaxation, and reflections...

It has been crazy busy over the last wee while.  So busy that I realised I'd fallen into the not taking time off trap - bad Nik.  The susequent knock-on effect of all of that has been utter tiredness and the sense of feeling overwhelmed, not too mention rabbit-in-the-spotlights inability to actually accomplish much at all.
I finally took myself in hand the other day, said cross words to myself, and decided to rationalise some things... and so I've been cutting away some of the mental undergrowth and clutter... as well as divesting myself of a couple of responsibilities.
Much better.  Good plan.
And time off was had Thurs and Fri nights going out with friends and getting my perspective back at last.  Was great doing something other than PhD work or church work: good to feel like I was doing something vaguely normal again.
Within several days I'm surprised by the change and how much more relaxed and focused I finally am.
Hurrah.  I wonder why I always have to re-learn this one?


'Parish by the Forth' placement has been poddling on for nearly a month now and am getting to know new folks and new ways of doing things.
Enjoying it.  Good bunch of people.
So utterly different from previous 'big Kirk in the toon' placement [which was great, but very, very different indeed!].  And of course, different from having been doing locum in 'leafy parish in the burgh' over summer - where I was just left to get on with stuff.

Am pondering the noticeable difference between degrees of responsibility: between being a placement student with minister;
and locum with more responsibility without minister - but if it goes horribly wrong still not as responsible as minister would be;
and also thinking back to times when I've 'parachuted in' to do the occasional pulpit supply.

There's a sense of slight surrealism being back in supervised placement after the freedom of the summer locum - it's fine, I'm not chafing under the bit... it just feels slightly odd, lol!!!

Am also teasing out difference between gathered church and local community church dynamics and particularly what it is like to be living in the parish in which I'm also working - I wanted to try to get an understanding of what the 'goldfish bowl' felt like and it certainly is providing food for reflective thought - will blog on that at a later point.  The immediate effect is that I find myself walking down the street and smiling at anybody who walks by for fear of being told I've totally ignored someone.  Sigh!!  I'm sure this will settle itself down, but it's definitely an odd feeling.

I am very much enjoying the fact that there are kids around - even if that does mean having to occasionally do all-age addresses - like this morning.  Which was a hoot and very interactive and seemed to go well.  I have a group of small people who seem to have now befriended me, which is lovely.

I'm also getting to grips with the 'everyday stuff of life' such as visiting folks....  At some point I really want to take a bit of time to sift through my thoughts but this is being blogged almost as a 'note to self' for later.

I'm currently working my way quietly through a list given to me by my church supervisor.
There is a vast world of difference on several levels when it comes to visiting because of a need: baptism/ wedding/ funeral/ home communion, and the 'just popping in to say hello' visit.  I find the former much easier - guess I'm just more used to that sort of visiting - than the latter.  Might be a good exercise to sit down and ask 'why' the 'popping in' visit feels a little more tricky.  And yet this afternoon's visit was very good, and out of it stuff arose that was immensely satisfying.  As opposed to visit on Tues where I felt it hard, hard, hard to get any conversation and yet I knew it had been appreciated.  Ah well.

This week is prep. for Remembrance service on Sunday, more visiting, Guild on Wednesday.  At some point, my thesis may even get a wee look in.  But I am pleased to be feeling more in step with everything.

'Passing' thoughts

It's funny, when I really boil it all down, how much the context of identity comes into play in my research.  How a group or a society perceives itself is often found in the laws/ codes of conduct it creates and the church is no exception.  Who is out?  Who is in?  Who makes the rules determining who is in and who is out? Who can be a citizen or who can't - whether in the community of the kindom of heaven on earth or, in the more prosaic sense, in the community found through national identity?


Although having grown up on that big island, Australia, smaller islands also play their part in my genetic makeup...Lewis to the west, and Eday to the north....  I have lived here in Scotland nearly 18 years and have strongly identified with the notion of 'home' as being here.  I remember the first time I crossed the border from England: sitting on a train bound for Edinburgh and crossing the imaginary line dividing up geography and culture and outlook. I had an overwhelming feeling of finally being 'home'.  I had not, at that point, physically ever set foot in the place and yet somewhere deep within - maybe the land, maybe my ancestral DNA - called out with a wild, fierce joy: identity and belonging are powerful things.

And so today I sat, and passed, a small test as part of the journey to make official what is already a matter of the heart.  It doesn't deny the Australian side of me: I rejoice in that too... but perhaps moving towards UK citizenship is about rejoicing in that other part of me as well.  This way, perhaps, both halves are acknowledged, combined and comprise an integrated whole?  But whatever this is all about, I'm glad I'm doing it.  It puts an identifier marker in the sand perhaps.

And the tie in with my research?  It's loose, but... my Masters thesis has been dealt with: I not only pass, but meet the criteria to continue onwards and do the Doctorate [which I've sort of been doing anyway] - research which continues to have at its heart issues of identity.
All is well and all is busy and all is very good indeed.

'L' is for ...

'Life in the UK test' not sure if it's a quite a 'gratitude' thing yet... but I'll be taking this test Tues 10.30am.
Perhaps the point of thanksgiving here is in the fact that, suddenly, I have found it useful to be an early modern historian: the online practice tests keep coming up with huguenots as an answer to a migration question.  Nothing like a bit of random knowledge to throw at folks.  Bet most Brits don't know which group of immigrants arrived in the UK in the 17th c. due to religious persecution....!!!  Why does one need to know this, I ask myself?!
Watch this space for pass or fail result.... I swear the percentage questions regarding what percentage of Brits are N. Irish/ or Scottish/ or Welsh/ or English will come up, as will the how many constituencies are there in the UK... and how many MSP's are there / where would one find an MSP?  [127, and they're all at the pub, presumably?] 

'K' is for...

Kermit the frog and the Muppets in general... and for providing lots of childhood grins and giggles 


Knox - as in foxy Knoxy - my 16th c. homie and part of the Scottish reformation landscape, resulting in the


Kirk...in which I'm training to be a minister - once Mr Knox has released me from the doctorate :)


Kookaburras, kangaroos and koalas - why is it that 'k' animals are from Oz??

Kindness - the joy of knowing there are some in the world inclined to, and inspired to, practise random acts of kindness 

Kissing - possibly an obvious one!!! 

Krauss... as in Alison Krauss and Union Station - gorgeouso music

Musings on Mark 10:35-45, Muhammed Ali, and the things we hold to ransom

This Sunday's gospel passage is from Mark 10:35-45... 

³⁵James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came forward to him and said to him, “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.” ³⁶And he said to them, “What is it you want me to do for you?” ³⁷And they said to him, “Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.” ³⁸But Jesus said to them, “You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?” ³⁹They replied, “We are able.” Then Jesus said to them, “The cup that I drink you will drink; and with the baptism with which I am baptized, you will be baptized; ⁴⁰but to sit at my right hand or at my left is not mine to grant, but it is for those for whom it has been prepared.”
⁴¹When the ten heard this, they began to be angry with James and John. ⁴²So Jesus called them and said to them, “You know that among the Gentiles those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. ⁴³But it is not so among you; but whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, ⁴⁴and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. ⁴⁵For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.”

For no apparent reason, as I've been reading this passage, at the back of my head I can hear the echoes of Muhammed Ali's boxing war-cry 'I am the greatest!'

And both the text and Muhammed Ali make me want to ask:

What is greatness?  What is power?  How do we use our greatness and our power?

I'm particularly fascinated by Jim and John Zebedee's request: 'we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.'  There's an underlying sub-text here of a sense of entitlement, perhaps, in the statement they make.  And more 'echoes' in my head - this time not so much Muhammed Ali - but the voices who want power or privilege or some kind of entitlement in the wider community, and in the church community.  In a small, dark corner of my mind I hear the words:

'so minister, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.'  This may be found in situations of proposed change... or even proposed non-change... in the form of 'if you change the way we have communion, if you don't let the choir sing an anthem, if you have all-age services, if you don't have all-age services, if you get rid of the pews, if you keep the pews... we will stop being an elder/ leave the church/ withhold our offering/ hold the church community to ransom so that we do get our way.'  And effectively continuing to hold the One who gave his life as a ransom for many ... still to ransom.

Wherever groups of people are, there will be jockeying for position and a bit of an attempt at empire building: it's what we do as humans.  Created in the image of God, maybe we sometimes set ourselves up as gods because deep down we feel small and powerless and it frightens us?  Conversely, maybe we are fearful of just how powerful a thing it is to be made in the image of God - what are the implications of that, we wonder? 

So, perhaps it's a little precious to be looking askance and James and John and their attempt to do what most humans do - manouevring for position.  Were James and John really interested in the broader, communal picture, or was this an exercise in self-interest?  No.  Yes.  'What will we get out of this?  How can we get more?  How can we manipulate the situation to our further advantage?' Perhaps we beat them up a tad too much... and maybe we even beat ourselves up too much because we forget our humanness, forget that we are not God?

  

If we think of the power context my sense is that consumerism, with its cult of the individual, and the sense of 'get more toys', if I want it I should have it' - irrespective of the cost to self and others, has insidiously crept into the church.  The notion of body, of community, gets chipped away under the church-hopping about from one place to another - leaving a church because, 'after all I went there, but I got nothing out of it.'  Everytime I hear that phrase, I'm so tempted to say: 'okay, but what did you put into it?'  I suspect if I did say it, I'd be looked at as if I came from Mars... but that's another story for another time.

If I step away from a small soapbox at this point and think on the text a little more, perhaps the concluding thoughts run a little like this:

we all have some kind of power - some more than others.
How do we use it?
Where or on whom do we focus it - God, others, ourself?
What is, and what  does, power look like in the kindom of God within the godly community?
Real power is understanding that you can let it go...
when you don't need it...
when you know it is not your master but is rather a tool.
Real power is found in the context of kenosis - a self-giving - a giving away... demonstrated in the all-powerful God becoming all-vulnerable: human as we are human.
Are we ready to drink the cup of our humanity... and conversely are we ready to drink the cup of real greatness?  Less the 'X-Factor', more the fear factor in doing so I suspect.

And other echo... Marianne Williamson on power: 

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.' We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we're liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others." (A Return to Love: Reflections on the Principles of "A Course in Miracles", Harper Collins, 1992. From Chapter 7, Section 3]) 

'J' is for...

Jelly babies and the particular, peculiar sense of satisfaction by biting their heads off first...!!

Jeans and Jumpers for snuggling into as the days grow shorter and more chilly

Jokes in the form of long, involved stories told around a campfire/ barbie with friends and the long, slow reeling in followed by groans and grins.

Jumping beans for the endless fascination they provided at various points in my childhood

Jasmine and warm summer nights and the sweet scent of it hanging in the air

Jubilee and justice:  those times of liberation and celebration and fresh beginnings
Journeys of many kinds, inner and outer, and for growing and learning and times of just standing still in awe and wonder on the road

Joy which bubbles up unaccountably at times, reminding me that God is good

Jesus for truly saving my life in the midst of the madness!

'I' is for...

Iona - a rare and special place.  A place of pilgrims, priests, poets and prophets...

Island at Twilight, Iona
Soft and gentle 
twilight falls
and moments, 
small eternities,
drift by.
Beyond
the seagull's cry
the Sound
breathes waves
along the shore.
Sea pinks, 
on jagged rocks,
stand calm and
wait for stars
that paint
hushed wishes

in the sky    

                       c. Nikki Macdonald

wisdom at the edge of the beginning

Standing on the edge looking across to the other side, looking down at the bottom of the canyon, looking up to the blue sky of heaven, looking back to where I've journeyed up until now... 

Am at the edge of the beginning of my next placement, taking a deep breath before jumping on in.  New people to meet and new stories to hear, new ways of doing things, new ways of being, of doing and seeing.  I'm looking forward to a new challenge.  Looking forward to re-learning how much more there is to learn, and that learning is the journey of a life-time.  Looking forward...

Looking back, as well, to the time spent as locum over summer in leafy parish in the 'burgh.  Rich lessons there; stories and songs shared; and grace-filled generosity. 

Looking over the edge and peering down... wondering what those things will be that I wrestle with and am challenged by.

Looking up: to God who holds me by the hand and leads me through it all.  

Looking for the wisdom to be able to be authentic and to listen whole-heartedly: to be truly me and to be open to enough to accept the possibility that my way is not the only way to do things!!  As I start this new placement, I'm conscious of having had an incredible freedom over summer with locum and not really supervised: just trusted to get on with the job.  It's an odd thing, in a sense, to go back to a supervised placement, but it's a good antidote to any potential for arrogance on my part.  :) 
And so, onwards, to the next part of this training and discerning and reflecting - with the ever-present 'mantra' in mind: first, do no harm!

'Friday Five' - touching holiness

In today's 'friday five' at revgals, Sally is pondering holiness and God's peace and presence.  I joined in with this lot:

1. A place that holds a special memory?  I love the Isle of Iona, in the Inner Hebrides.  A place where I once lived and worked.  Walking off the ferry there's very much the sense of encounter with God: a place where the gap between heaven and earth is tissue-thin....

2. A song that seems to usher you into the Holy of Holies?  Without a doubt, it has to be 'Let all mortal flesh keep silence' when it comes to older style hymns... and modern stuff - 'Indescribable' by Chris Tomlin.  Both manage in different ways to capture the awesomeness of the holy God we worship.

3.A book/ poem/ prayer that says what you cannot?  Mother Julian's prayer 'all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.'  In the hard places, and the fearful places, it's this that comforts.
 

4. How do you remind yourself of these things at times when God seems far away?  I'm a visual thinker... there's a great painting by a retired German priest called Sieger Koder [at left] which was immensely helpful when I was going and growing through the process of bereavement

5.Post a picture/ poem or song that speaks of where you are right now in your relationship with God...     
In a place where I feel held and cherished and loved by God...      [at right]

'H' is for...

Some more from the gently meandering attempt to build an alphabet of gratitude... today's letter being 'H', which is for:

History - mid-late 16th c. Scottish ecclesiastical history in particular... my beloved thesis is set in this era.  Even tho' reading 16th c. Scots is destroying my spelling, it's a fantastic and fabby period to be researching.

Healthcare and hospitals in the UK - given the news from across the pond regarding healthcare costs in the USA, I am more and more thankful for the wonder that is the NHS.

High tide at Fisherrow... especially when it's at the same time as twilight... birds resting resting on the water chatting to each other after a hard day's scavenging, the sounds of small waves splashing on the sand.  All balm for the soul

High days and holidays - special days of celebration, and days of relaxation

Home/ Hospitality  for having a place to hang my hat, a 'sanctuary' space, and a place to share with others... barbecues and dinners and movie nights. Which also links to:

Hanging out - with friends over cups of coffee and good conversations

Humour - that vital safety valve to let off steam as well as to poke fun at my pretentiousness a bit!  Life would be a dull, grey place indeed without this!!

Hugs - self-explanatory, I think!!

Hope: life-giving, life-sustaining... creating spaces of light in the dark... and leading to...

Heaven perhaps?  Understanding that we are 'strangers in a strange land' making our way to our true home... That place where every tear shall be wiped away, where death has been conquered, and where we shall see Him as He truly is

Is confession good for the soul? Lectionary thoughts - James 5: 13-20

One of the passages for this coming Sunday, if following the RCL, is found in the epistle of James 5: 13-20...

¹³Are any among you suffering? They should pray. Are any cheerful? They should sing songs of praise. ¹⁴Are any among you sick? They should call for the elders of the church and have them pray over them, anointing them with oil in the name of the Lord. ¹⁵The prayer of faith will save the sick, and the Lord will raise them up; and anyone who has committed sins will be forgiven. ¹⁶Therefore confess your sins to one another, and pray for one another, so that you may be healed. The prayer of the righteous is powerful and effective. ¹⁷Elijah was a human being like us, and he prayed fervently that it might not rain, and for three years and six months it did not rain on the earth. ¹⁸Then he prayed again, and the heaven gave rain and the earth yielded its harvest. ¹⁹My brothers and sisters, if anyone among you wanders from the truth and is brought back by another, ²⁰you should know that whoever brings back a sinner from wandering will save the sinner’s soul from death and will cover a multitude of sins.

This is a passage which seems to jump about - the author almost seeming to write in what appears to be a fast-moving stream of consciousness.  

It's a passage of 'action' and 'reaction' -

for those who suffer: pray.                                

For those who are cheerful: praise.

It's about community - those who are ill call upon church elders for prayer and anointing with oil [not sure if that's in the current CofS job description for elders?!], and all the community are to confess to one another, and to pray for each other.                                            

It's about faith: an understanding that to pray in faith can cause healing and forgiveness. 

It's about reconciliation... which, in a sense, also ties in with healing and forgiveness.

And in the midst of this passage, verse 16, concerning confession: all are to confess to each other...

Over the last couple of years [and the next couple for that matter] my research has touched upon the identity of the community of the godly as 'holy', and of rituals of confession, penitence and reconciliation: these used in order to effect/ continue the community's holiness.  Perhaps it's why reading the passage, that this particular verse sticks out.                                                                                                                            

Is confession, as the old saying goes, good for the soul? 

But what is confession?

My sense is confession falls into several types:

• there's the traditional context of confession as the telling of offences one has done - a recounting of one's own sins;
•  there's also the confession of telling of offences that have been done to one - a recounting of another's sin/s upon you;
•  there's also the confession of recounting what Christ has done - the confession of belief.

At the heart of all are:

telling - speaking out - verbalising what has happened: sins done, sins perpetrated upon one, sins forgiven by One.

truth - that what is told is held to be true for the one doing the telling.

Simplistic, I know, and stating the flippin' obvious.  However, essentially then, confession is a kind of truth-telling.  Raw, honest, naming a thing for what it is kind of stuff.  So... back to the question: is confession good for the soul?

It's been fascinating to trace the patterns of confession/ dealing with sin historically.  Initially, a movement towards open confession and penitence in the gathered body... then the gradual move to private confession and acts of penance... and with the Reformations a split: the re-formation of private penance via Trent, while the Calvin-inspired [pedantic note - here insert: Bucer/ a Lasco - who are so overlooked but hugely influential on Calvin] Protestant reformers move back to public confession... and who eventually move back to the private realm with the advent of government less closely tied to the kirk....  All that a whistle-stop history that isn't necessarily answering the question.

The James text seems to imply that there's a healing context to confession - here both individually, but also and possibly more importantly, communally.  This would apply to all three types of confession outlined above... and yet, truth-telling - the whole warts 'n all, hard telling of difficult stories is something that we as humans also struggle with - not just to tell, but to truly hear.  I've been thinking a lot recently of one of the conference sessions regarding training for ministry that we had at St Andrews: the context of the confession of sins done by others to the one confessing.  And the reactions of those who hear those particular confessions... disbelief, blame of the victim, a second attack.  In this case, for the one truth-telling something that is painful beyond belief and which may have been put in a jar and placed in a cupboard and locked away for years, the sense of being punched in the gut, the sense of betrayal all over again... makes me wonder: is this confession, this truth-telling good for the soul too?

And yet... to open the cupboard and let the light and fresh air pour in... and to open the jar brings a strange release too, even in the midst of villification and scapegoating.  Scapegoating: I'm thinking about Rene Girard again - he's been a huge influence on my thinking when it comes to inclusion/ exclusion and community.

And Jesus was a truth-teller, confessing the glory and love and grace of God... and was crucified. 

Is confession good for the soul... when it can lead to scapegoating, violence and even death?   

Even in the midst of that, yes, I suspect it is:perhaps there is never a 'good time' for truth-telling/ confession.  It is inconvenient.  It requires the teller and the hearer to respond in some way.  And yet, to be rid of the heavy, heavy stuff which grinds down the life and soul is liberation, brings healing and relief... and while it might not bring about human reconciliation every time, there is a restoration of the soul that does go beyond the pain required by the act of truth-telling.

And in response: how then can I learn to be a compassionate listener to those who are confessing their offences, or confessing the offences done to them...?  And how do I confess Christ compassionately and with grace?   Because when the rubber hits the road, as someone in training for full-time ordained ministry, I am going to be listening to a lot of truth-telling: people telling me their stories.

I guess back to James - who'd say in the text - pray, pray, pray.

And so, some rambling thoughts on an overcast, windy Tuesday....

'G' is for...

Gardens bursting forth in outrageous colours throughout the year; from ordered stately gardens [a favourite is Direlton Castle], to country cottagey helter-skelter and wild flowers in fields and hedgerows... gorgeous.

Gumtrees and their graceful drooping tear-drop leaves... for gum leaves in billy-tea accompanied by freshly cooked damper wound around a smooth gumtree branch... the smell of forest gums... and distant hazy blue on warm summer days when the oil evaporates... mmmmm.

the Gàidhealtachd - and my Gaelic-speaking grandfather, born at Port of Ness, Isle of Lewis... for an amazing history and language and culture.

Ginger beer - in all its glorious spicy-sweet yumminess.  And remembering the soft 'pop', 'pop', 'pop' of home-brewed bottles occasionally bursting open in the lean-to outside... definitely a childhood summer sound.

Gregorian chant for its complexity and simplicity and beauty: prayer-song floating to heaven and following the musical theme...

Guitar - listening to great guitarists like John Williams - love his version of Concierto de Aranjuez - wonderful, inspiring stuff.
And tho' I'm quite a dire guitarist, I'm glad I taught myself to play years ago, and can sit and strum and sing and just 'be'...

Gloaming a wonderful word for a wonderful time of day: between sunset and nightfall

Gentleness: quiet, soft moments - spoken and unspoken, of tenderness and care and loving-kindness

Gratitude :) and being able to give thanks and maintaining the positivity that defies the urge that would too easily harp and whine and criticise.  And that there is Someone Other to thank: I'm mindful of the old question regarding faith/ non-belief... on a wonderful day when all feels right with the world, and the natural mood within is one of immense gratitude and thanksgiving, what do athiests do?  Which leads me to... 

God who is the ground of my being, who holds me in the palm of his hand, who loves me beyond my wildest imaginings, who gives meaning to this existence, who is closer to me than breathing and yet beyond all comprehension, who is mystery and mercy... who has demonstrated

Grace beyond measure and who inspires me to make stumbling efforts to mirror that grace.

'F' is for...

falling asleep... falling in love... fooling about
for festivals, fez, and fluffy french bread.... 

Flora and fauna: forests and flowers and flying things:
freesias,
       frangipanis,
flamingos 






for fairytales, fingerpainting and frankincense ... and fleeting moments of wonder and beauty.


for friends and friendships and shared funny moments


for feather quilts on cold winter nights...    



for faithfulness and faith and a reason to believe

'E' is for...

Epistles, expresso, elephants, entertainments of all kinds... and also:

Eating - good meals with good friends with easy, flowing, funny conversation.  I love the communal intimacy and the strengthening and nurturing of relationships of all kinds that occur when eating together.  Hmmm, and thinking of various occasions in the gospels where eating meals together feature: both the miraculous and the mundane.  And the sense of sacred in the ordinary that can occur in profound moments of conversation at the table.

Earth - this amazing robust/ fragile planet with all its colour and noise and diversity of life and loveliness.  For green and growing things, for things that creep and things that fly or climb or jump, for watery wonderfulness - creeks, rivers, streams, oceans, for gentle rolling hills or craggy snow-peaked mountains, for the sun and moon and stars that shine down upon it all.  It is good, it is very good indeed.



and Earth - the smell of freshly ploughed fields.

Exceptions that fly in the face of conformity and which refuse to be put in a box and labelled.

'Erudition' - because of its context in an overheard conversation by two very earnest, tweed-wearing young people, many years ago on a train.  They were discussing someone [and to the day I die I will never know who it was, and I quite like the delicious not-knowingness of it] who apparently 'wore his erudition like a badge.'  Ever since, I've just adored that pompous turn of phrase.


Easter and new life,
new beginnings,
new possibilities,
new ways of being:
of hope in the darkness and restoration and release.

'D' is for...

Food, academia and the occasional animal today... :)

Divine - as in chocolate as in fairly traded as in 'omigosh lovely'. Chocolate in this context is truly 'food of the gods'. Mmmmm.

Donuts - whether or not I actually eat the things they make me smile and think of the Simpsons and subversity and silliness.

Dolphins - and leaping and splashing and playing and joy.

Divinity - as in New College School of Divinity: a place where I've grown; where I've wrestled joyfully with words and concepts and occasionally some Scottish Reformers; and where I've sort of 'lived' for the last 5 years and moving into year 6 and the...

Doctorate - wow - gosh...! A little amazed that I'm doing this. Huge thankfulness and lots of joy. Maybe some tears a little later when the Latin grammar really becomes horrific and when I just can't read the handwriting on ageing manuscripts after several hours in the Archives. :)

Diversity - thankfulness for a wild, weird, wide and wondrous world in all its amazingness

Daffodils in Spring on Castle Hill, Princes St Gardens, hundreds upon hundreds of 'em - joyfully lifting their cheery heads to the sky and grinning at God. A happy sign of spring, new life, and riotous colour.

Codename: 'Voldemort'

I've been thinking once again on the moratorium concerning discussing same-gender relationships within the Church of Scotland.
I've taken to referring to the current situation as 'Voldemort', given the fear attached to uttering that particular character's name in the Harry Potter series.
Re-contextualised for the CofS, instead of:
'you-know-who' and 'he-who-must-not-be-named',
we have:
'you-know-what' or 'that-which-must-not-be-named'.

This has gently bubbled back to the surface for me due to several factors:
The first was due to a very good conversation with someone concerning the power of language: she is a non-native English speaker. We agreed that words are powerful tools which can be used to both include and exclude, sometimes intentionally and sometimes deliberately.
By not discussing 'the elephant in the room' within a CofS context for the next 2 years, I wonder what message the non-verbal gives out to LBGT folks, and folk outwith the church? Do we truly think that if we don't discuss it, people will think that we've moved on...? And actually, are we deemed so irrelevent by society in general in the UK that they don't even know or care about what the church thinks anyway?

The second was prompted by the last day of ministry training conference in St Andrews, when we sang 'All are welcome'. It's a hymn I like immensely for its prophetic vision of church and celebration of diversity in all its contexts. But that morning, I found it stuck in my throat: it was hard to sing those words knowing that at this point in time, we as church welcome some less than others.

And laterally, perhaps too, my thoughts have wandered this way again due to last week's lections - in particular the passage in James 2: 1-17 concerning partiality:

1My brothers and sisters, do you with your acts of favoritism really believe in our glorious Lord Jesus Christ? ²For if a person with gold rings and in fine clothes comes into your assembly, and if a poor person in dirty clothes also comes in,
³and if you take notice of the one wearing the fine clothes and say,
“Have a seat here, please,”
while to the one who is poor you say,
“Stand there,” or, “Sit at my feet,”
⁴have you not made distinctions among yourselves, and become judges with evil thoughts?
⁵Listen, my beloved brothers and sisters. Has not God chosen the poor in the world to be rich in faith and to be heirs of the kingdom that he has promised to those who love him?
⁶But you have dishonored the poor. Is it not the rich who oppress you?
Is it not they who drag you into court?
⁷Is it not they who blaspheme the excellent name that was invoked over you?
⁸You do well if you really fulfill the royal law according to the scripture,
“You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”
⁹But if you show partiality, you commit sin and are convicted by the law as transgressors.
¹⁰For whoever keeps the whole law but fails in one point has become accountable for all of it.

I'm tempted to change 'rich' and 'poor' to 'heterosexual' and 'non-heterosexual'. The point is that partiality is about power and privilege. In a society dominantly heterosexual, power and privilege is in the hands of that majority. It's a clumsily made point, I'll grant, but I think the principle carries through.

Is might right?
Is straight great?

Aren't we as church called to be counter-cultural, to be revolutionaries?
To question existing power structures and challenge those structures when they use a steamroller to crush a butterfly's wings?
But then again, maybe I'm just an ageing hippy....

I look forward to the closet being opened concerning debate and discussion: unless we can talk about it, like Voldemort, it becomes a creature of the shadows, creating fear, creating partisan divides.
We are not ruled by the lord of darkness, but the Lord of Light.
Let's get open the closets, let's name 'that which can not be named' and use the power of words as tools of inclusion, peace and liberation, which creates a church for all God's children.

I long for the day when I can sing 'All are welcome' as a truth in the now, as opposed to the not-yet.

'C' is for...

This week, the letters 'C', 'D', and possibly 'E' will feature in the ongoing 'gratitude attitudes'...

'C' is for -
Cornucopia - one of my favourite words. I love the sensuality of it:
the way it rolls off the tongue,
the lusciousness of the sound of it when spoken,
the roundness and fullness of it as it sinks into the soul.
It's a great word, evocative of the promise of good things, of plenty,
of fulfillment, of peace.
And as I write this, there's a tune on the mental i-pod that's just wandered in...
We plough the fields, and scatter
The good seed on the land,
But it is fed and watered
By God's almighty hand;
He sends the snow in winter,
The warmth to swell the grain,
The breezes and the sunshine,
And soft refreshing rain.

All good gifts around us
Are sent from heav'n above,
Then thank the Lord, O thank the Lord
For all his love.

Communion - the meal that speaks of both promise and present, the great now and not yet of God displayed in the feast of bread and wine [am trying to think of the feast aspect of this even in the face of cubes of dried out bread on a plate... but let's not go there!!!], the meal that transforms the common things of earth into holy mystery and reminds us to taste and see that the Lord is indeed good. Good Presby that I am, it's at this point, where I move into...

Calvin and his understanding of mystery and ordinary within the context of sacraments. I love the room he has to allow for the unexplainable and yet explainable God who asks us to follow. I give thanks for good orderly systematic theology and for adiaphora which gives room for all to breathe.

Community and companions on the way - for the many communities I'm a part of; for broad and diverse gifts, for encouraging words, for deep conversations and awful jokes, for not walking this journey entirely alone.

Cats and their sheer contrariness: a dog worships you, but you worship a cat. They ensure you know your place in the world which is good for the humilty.

'For the waters shall break forth in the wilderness.'

'Say to those who are of a fearful heart,

"Be strong, do not fear! Here is your God."

Blinking eyes, opening:
Seeing possibilities,
Potential, light.
Blocked ears, now unblocked:
Hearing good news -
The words of life.
Those unable,
Now able.
Those voiceless,
Rejoicing in song.
In the midst of the dry, parched place,
Pools and streams and overflowing refreshing.
Springs sprung -
Erupting out of dry desert dust.
All thirst quenched
By the bubbling water of life.
'For the waters shall break forth in the wilderness.'
God of refreshing,
You do all things well:
You refresh us
And we are astounded beyond measure.

[based on Isaiah 35: 4-7 & Mark 7:37]

Friday Five: recharged/ recharging

This week's Friday Five - Sally over at Revgals writes:
A few weeks ago my lap-top battery died, suddenly I found myself looking at a blank screen and was rather relieved to find that it was only the battery and not the whole computer that had failed. This morning a new battery arrived in the post, and suddenly I am mobile again!

After a week with what feels like wall to wall meetings, and Synod looming on the horizon for tomorrow I find myself pondering my own need to recharge my batteries. This afternoon Tim and I are setting off to explore the countryside around our new home, I always find that walking in the fresh air away from phones and e-mails recharges me. But that is not the only thing that restores my soul, so do some people, books, pieces of music etc....

So I wonder what/ who gives you energy?
1. Is there a person who encourages and uplifts you, whose company you seek when you are feeling low?
Yup, several - I am well blessed in that department :)

2. How about a piece of music that either invigorates or relaxes you?
Tallis. Below a not-brilliant recording, but does the job. It also takes me to a magical summer night on Orkney, in the Cathedral, when this was being played at the St Magnus Festival and a glorious orange sunset over the sea...


3. Which book of the Bible do you most readily turn to for refreshment and encouragement? Is there a particular story that brings you hope?
Lamentations 3: 21-26; Rev. 21: 3-4; various Psalms... and Peter never quite getting it even tho' Jesus was walking with him along the hot 'n dusty roads.

4. A bracing walk or a cosy fireside?
Cosy fireside wins every time!!

5. Are you feeling refreshed and restored at the moment or in need of recharging, write a prayer or a prayer request to finish this weeks Friday Five....
Still tired from all the recent stuff of life, but in a good chilled out kind of way, so maybe restoration in process :)

'B' is for ...

Continuing the 'gratitude attitudes'... the letter 'B' is for:

Bread - 'give us this day our daily bread'; the smell of freshly baked, just-out-of-the-oven bread... and the steam rising as it's broken; Jesus as the 'bread of life' who sustains, satisfies, nourishes and nurtures; the breaking of bread in communion, in community, at meals... and for all the 'holy in the ordinariness' of it.

Back as in 'ain't it good to be back home again'... Today was last day of training conference. It was good; it was maddening; it was hilariously funny; it was a super learning experience on many fronts - both in and out of sessions. On the 'back' of this...

Blethers and banter, bonding and building up: during pyjama parties [staying in segregated dorms which someone christened 'Mallory Towers'], as well as chats over coffee and the endless rounds of meals wheeled out, as well as in our set reflection groups at conference.

Breathing is always a very good thing and I give thanks often that I still do it!! For days when the air is just that little bit cooler and the mist of breath hangs in the air: a silent reminder of God's good gift of life.

the Bible is a cracking read:
2 Timothy 3:16-17 ... All scripture is inspired by God and is useful for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, so that everyone who belongs to God may be proficient, equipped for every good work.

Books - lots of lovely books to pore and ponder over, and the wonder of God-given desire for knowledge and wisdom througout the centuries which has left a marvellous heritage. Truly, we do stand on the shoulders of giants...

Birds and birdsong - God's airborne choir??!

Beaches for walking, sitting and playing on; as a place of space and solitude and quiet contemplation and inspiration; as a place to exhale the busyness and stress and tiredness and to inhale salt-tanged rest and refreshing.

[with thanks to Fi for the pic]


¹⁷