Sunday song: Papal bulls, indulgences and transubstantiation...

Happy Reformation Day... 


Or perhaps instead of a polka, why not something a little more 'street'...

25 or so things...

Meanwhile, over on yet another 'F' word - Facebook - a friend decided to do the '25-30 things about yourself' tagging thing.
I played: and proved number #1 on my own list....

1/ I will do anything to distract myself from my thesis: that I'm responding to this is proof.
2/ Although I am a fan of chocolate, and have been known to frequent my local chippie, the idea of a deep-fried Mars Bar actually *does* horrify me.
3/ I don't drink alcohol.
4/ I do drink ginger beer.
5/ The thought that scurvy is a possibility has been growing for some time now.  This is, in part, due to the fact that most of the food I eat tends to be shades of beige in colour.
6/ Love sailing - especially about the Whitsunday Islands.
7/ Swimming in the sea is a wonderful thing: but it happened more when I was younger and lived in the tropics!
8/ I once did a sit-down stand-up comedy routine on Iona with friend Helen one staff party night, centred on a running commentary on folk-songs to slash yer wrists by, with suitable guitar accompaniment.
9/ Apparently, I am like my dad: when I went to Oz with a friend several years back, she looked at him, looked at me, and then burst out laughing whilst simultaneously quipping: 'well, no-one will ever say that you're the milkman's daughter, will they?'  I'm not quite sure what she may have been inferring about my mother, however....
10/ Scrabble fiend - but prefer real, not virtual, games.
11/ The current man in my life has been dead for 438 years.  Great beard however.
12/ A well-developed love for the bizarre, the ridiculous and the silly.
13/ Dislikes pomposity.
14/ Struggles a little with overly-earnest people.
15/ Also dislikes pigeon-holes.
16/ In a Turkish bath-house in Ankara, was once told by a hopeful masseur: 'Nikki, Turkish sex, nice... you like?'  I never found out, for the record!
17/ Thinks Williams' 'Fantasia on a theme of Thomas Tallis' is the music she will probably hear in heaven.
18/ Dislikes bad manners.
19/ Loves mangoes.
20/ Is currently reading her way through 'Acts of General Assemblies 1560-1618' and has uncovered the scandalous adultery of the Rev Paul Methven.
21/ Once dreamt of a WWF tag-team match - King Kong and Godzilla vs Knox and Calvin in which the predestined result was in favour of the two Johns.
22/ I rejoice when I see the first snowdrop of the year.
23/ Have just been prescribed varifocals and am coming to terms with being an aged hag.
24/ Purples and greens and blues are my favourite colours - remind me of the sea.
25/ I set aside time every year to re-read The Lord of the Rings and every year find something new.
26/ Friends are a tonic for the soul and I am truly blessed by them :)

the 'F' word, part two

Earlier in the year I was thinking about the 'F' word - the new, big, bad swear word that is apparently unacceptable in polite society... yup, 'feminist'.
I recall being rather frustrated with the expression I often hear -
'I'm not a feminist, but...'
I'd quoted from a postcard I keep on my desk which lists reasons for why one might be a feminist.  It's a good, strong, powerful statement.
I happened to pootle across to Mary Beth's blog: terrapin station a few moments ago.
MB has a postcard,
also on the 'I'm not a feminist, but...' theme.
It's neat.
I like it.
A more subversively upbeat tone...:)
[tho' I did point out that 'pants' mean something different over here! *grins*]

zombies pt II: the inclusive and 'affirming' version

Public displays of mockery leave zombies' dignity in shambles

Well, it seems a small comment on facebook concerning zombies has ended up with a rather loooong thread.
I was challenged, quite rightly to come up with an inclusive and affirming version by a fellow ministry trainee last night [Saturday], to keep in line with our hymnbook CH4.  DMc observed:
'I think you should be making more effort to love the zombies. You're neo-imperialist religious zealotry makes for a rousing chorus but for CH4 purposes you may also need a more inclusive, Jesus would have dined with zombies refrain. A shine zombies shine, if you will.'

Of course, DMc is perfectly correct, and so, if you will, my humble attempt below:

[to the tune, naturally, of 'Shine Jesus Shine' -tried uploading a midi file, but no luck pardners] 

Zombies like to chase folk without warning,   
They find it fun to eat brainz in the morning.
Don't judge them all by their odd behaviour
...Even a zombie's in need of a saviour...
'dine with me...
dine... with ... me'

Dine, Jesus dine,
Even tho' it could be quite gory
Hey, Jesus, say,
They can sing in't choir.
O, zombies oh!
God's beloved undead creation,
We're not perturbed:
Lord the undead have rights. 

fear not the frenzied zombies biting...

So, there you are, faced with a teeming horde of brain-dead zombies in a manic and terrifying zombie apocalypse.  
Wotcha gonna do?
Indeed, WWJKD? [what would John Knox do]
Well, first, eat cake... courtesy of the excellent 'Apocalypse Bakery'
And second, write a hymn for the faithful to sing whilst fighting.
[Me? Thesis avoiding?  What gave you that impression??!]

[to the tune of 'Courage Brother, do not Stumble' see cyberhymnal.  Inclusive zombie language version.]

Courage, sister, do not stumble,
Though the zombies cause you fright;
There’s a star to guide the fearful:
...Trust in God and do the right.
Tho' their moans of 'brainz' be scary,
As they stagger into sight,
Fight them bravely; strong or weary,
Trust in God, trust in God,
Trust in God you'll be alright.

Some will hate thee, some will thump thee,
Some will splatter, when you fight;
Fling a pan, or fling a p.c.:
Trust in God and do the right.
The brain-dead undead need a hiding,
O fight the fiends with all your might,
Fear not the frenzied zombies biting,
Trust in God, trust in God,
Trust in God you'll be alright.

the wearing of purple

I've always loved Jenny Joseph's poem 'Warning: when I am an old woman I shall wear purple'. 

Yesterday I, too, wore purple. 

And while I do sometimes feel positively elderly amongst the folk here at Uni., the wearing of purple was less about my old age, but more as a gesture of solidarity.

The recent spate of suicides by gay teenagers in the U.S., who were bullied for the crime of just being them, has been utterly tragic. 

It is bullying that is neither a respecter of people, nor of geographical boundaries.  LGBT folk are bullied worldwide - just for the 'crime' of not being heterosexual.

And it must stop before it claims more lives.

And it is why I wore purple: for Spirit Day 2010 -

a grassroots initiative posted on Facebook

aimed at honouring the memory of the teens who committed suicide rather than bear the bullying and humiliation any longer...

and to show support for LGBT youth and thus demonstrate that they are not alone.

As I wore purple yesterday I reflected on a meeting I attended earlier in the year in which a newly ordained young male minister was speaking in the middle of a discussion I've previously termed 'Voldermort' - that which can't be named in the CofS.  He stood at the microphone saying his piece passionately and loudly, finishing with the words 'and let's remember: they are an abomination unto the Lord!'  It was verbal bullying of the worst kind - implicit in his statement was the belief that there was probably nobody in that room who was LGBT, and so, it was completely fine to use such dehumanising language.  The group, although quite conservative, audibly gasped when the chap dropped the 'A'-bomb, and that at least was some small crumb of reassurance in what was a thoroughly depressing meeting. 

Purple. 

Symbol of solidarity, and yet in the church, also a symbol of penitence. 

This seems apt given that amongst LGBT folk I know, the church is largely seen as the face of the oppressor. 

We must repent for having allowed that perception to flourish by our behaviour.

We must repent for every dehumanising word and action that has caused people to wither and die, not blossom and grow and have life in all its fullness.

Over at the Huffington Post, Bishop Gene Robinson's column is worth a read.

Women and men in Christ...?

*sticks head above parapet*

I'm sure he is gracious.
I'm sure he is a lovely man and pastor.
I'm just not sure he should be on the list of nominations for Moderator of the Church of Scotland.
Why my disquiet over Rev. C. Peter White as a Mod. nom.?
As a woman training for ministry of word and sacrament within the CofS, a denomination which over 40 years ago through its system of governance passed legislation allowing for the ordination of women elders and women ministers of word and sac., I'm more than a little stunned to read his blog entry concering the role of women in the church.
To be fair, the blog entry is addressing a particular matter within his congregation, however, while I might disagree with some of his exegesis, the concern comes from the following comment:
Although I think Scripture allows for CoS women elders, a question remains in my heart.

To nominate someone for Mod who is not 'quite all the way there yet' with regard to particular roles of women within the CofS, namely women in eldership [and one is forced to consider the question - what about women ordained to ministry of word and sacrament?] ... and here I reiterate, an institution which recognises these roles in its law and practice, and which has done so now for over 40 years is just a bit of a bizarre thing to do - indeed a little bit of a situational oxymoron proceedurally, no?
 
This is not an argument about having to accept this opinion as a consequence of being a 'broad kirk'; it is a matter of kirk law.  
While we are indeed a broad kirk, we work within a particular structure in which there are regulations set down in order to faciliate how we go about being that broad kirk. It would be odd indeed to have someone who would seem to appear not to hold to the law of the kirk as Moderator. This particular broad kirk holds that we accept women for ordination both as elders, deacons and ministers of word and sacrament. This is not about bias, or even a matter for conscience, it is about keeping in line with thegovernance of the church structure one is working within.

That said, I do have to wonder: if this were not about women but about people of colour, and that there were entire presbyteries found in which there were white only sessions/ no ministers of colour, it would certainly raise a question with regard to the possibility of institutional racism. Maybe the question that is quietly being asked here is whether there is still institutional sexism?

Earlier in his blog, Mr White discusses the concept of male 'headship' and notes:
I appeal to those of you, therefore, who say that because there are no women elders, women are second class citizens in Sandyford. Hold on a minute. Respecting male headship does not make that young lady a second class citizen in her marriage, nor need it in church. Rather the reverse: look again at his commitments. When well obeyed it protects women and their ministries of service, cherishes their femininity and seeks their fulfilment.   

Here I would ask how we define what 'femininity' is exactly?  And further, who is it that gets to define the criteria?  But that, I think, is a discussion for another day.
I just find it extremely disappointing that at the highest reaches of the kirk's structure there are people who seem to think it is neither odd, nor proceedurally unfitting, to nominate someone who has difficulties with an aspect of kirk law that has been around for forty years.  While perhaps completely unintentional, particularly in view of this year's debate within the Ministries Council report which discussed women eldership and again affirmed women in ministry, it still does send out a negative message.
A little like a slap to all women who have been called into the various ministries within the kirk:
a wee reminder to us to not get too above ourselves, and that this situation could change.
And so, back to definitions: how do we define 'ministry'? And who is it that gets to define it?

In one of those fascinating little lectionary irony twists, this week's gospel passage is Luke 18:1-8, the story of the persisitent widow:

Then Jesus told them a parable about their need to pray always and not to lose heart. He said, “In a certain city there was a judge who neither feared God nor had respect for people. In that city there was a widow who kept coming to him and saying, ‘Grant me justice against my opponent.’ For a while he refused; but later he said to himself, ‘Though I have no fear of God and no respect for anyone, yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will grant her justice, so that she may not wear me out by continually coming.’” And the Lord said, “Listen to what the unjust judge says. And will not God grant justice to his chosen ones who cry to him day and night? Will he delay long in helping them? I tell you, he will quickly grant justice to them. And yet, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?" 

The widow keeps 'bothering' the judge, insistent upon justice.  Eventually, just to get rid of her, the judge listens to her, and gives her the justice she is seeking.  How long must we, as women in Christ, as women of the kirk and the wider Church keep insisting that justice be done?  How long must we keep bothering the institution by reminding them that we, too, have a place at the [communion] table, both in front of and behind?

today is Blog Action Day 2010

...which is a very good reason to rouse myself from this stupor of dullness I seem to have been in for the last fortnight.  Too sleepy and too busy to blog, oh dear.
However... it's Blog Action Day and this year's theme is on water...
Why water?
Check out the video below.


Blog Action Day 2010: Water from Blog Action Day on Vimeo.

Am reminded again of the situation in the Niger Delta, where the water of life has become a river of death.

Why not, for one day, blog with one voice?
Dive in, and happy blogging!

the story of Goldilocks and the 'just right' affirmation of faith

The other week I was having dinner with friends.  They'd been to a church that shall be nameless which had, in its order of service, an affirmation of faith.  As we ate and blethered we recalled times when we'd been confronted with statements of faith - foisted upon us on a sheet within worship - with the expectation that we would, having never seen it before and thus, not had time to consider it, blithely utter it in some meaningful way.
Some affirmations, or statements, over the years have been cringe-worthy.
Some have been sailing close to the orthodox theological wind.
Some written so ambiguously and clumsily that one was not quite sure what one was actually attempting to affirm.
Others written focusing in on the language of power and domination and exclusion.

We generally agreed that the writing of creeds, or statements, or affirmations of faith is a pretty pernickety and difficult business.  I later wondered if writing such things is a little like the story of Goldilocks and the three bears, and how to construct a statement that is 'just right'.  Given the breadth and diversity of the Church, is there a 'just right' affirmation?
That said, the affirmation of faith from church that shall be nameless is something I think I could mostly, happily say.
I particularly responded to the gender stereotype reversal in the line:
'with a father's tenderness and a mother's strength'

What do others think?

AFFIRMATION OF FAITH

We believe in one God:
the creator of all things,
who loves the whole creation
with a father's tenderness and a mother's strength.

We believe in one God:
our Liberator Jesus Christ,
the Word of God made flesh,
true God and truly human;
born among the poor he lived as bringer of God's kingdom;
a teacher and a healer,
a lover of life and a prophet of justice,
forgiver of sins and a friend of sinners,
who welcomed the outcasts and challenged the powerful,
whose death on the cross defeated sin and death,
who rose from the dead
and is alive forever in power and glory.

We believe in one God:
the Holy Spirit, the giver of life,
the Breath of life in all life,
the gift of God to the people of God,
Disturber and Comforter,
the fire and the dove,
who makes us one community in peace and love.

We believe in one God,
a community of love,
a trinity of holiness,
the beginning and end of all life.
Amen.

cross-posted at http://newperspectivesedin.blogspot.com/2010/09/story-of-goldilocks-and-just-right.html

of plate-spinning, beaches and reflective practice

I've always loved an open horizon - even more when it is the sea, a river, or lake.  There's something about swathes of water that soothes my soul, helps me relax, gives me a better perspective on life, the universe and everything.  This pic. is what lies at the end of my street - maybe 50metres away.  Every morning when I leave for university I shut my front door and look at this, before readjusting my rucksack and turning the other way to walk to the bus stop.  Every evening, after leaving the bus and the noise of the main street, I follow the salt tang in the air and head back in the direction of the sea and to my home. On still nights, when the tide is high and the evening is warm enough that I can leave my windows open, I hear the sound of the waves rippling to the shore.


You'd think, given where I live, that I'd spend a lot of time down on the beach... but this last year I have become progressively worse at taking time out to 'be'; so many demands crowding in and taking up so many pieces of me.  Juggling.  Lots of it.  Sometimes not quite knowing which spinning plate to catch and put back on the shelf to rest.

Some have said 'Ha! Get used to it if you're going to be a minister!'  But I think that this is a false analogy.  I know - or understand - that while there's a rhythm of days in ministry, that also one should constantly expect the unexpected; life is crazy-busy.  Yup.  And I will be happy enough for that.  Where I think the analogy comes unstuck is more in light of focus: the fact that as a minister I will not also be doing a full-time degree, nor doing the other requisite bits and pieces that 121 requires of its trainee ministers.  As a minister [should I get through the process and a congregation call me] my focus will be on the rhythm and irrhythm of ministry - that is, in the midst of it all, while gazillions of things will crop up, it will at least be contained within the context of being a minister.  Not sure if I'm articulating this well at all.  Never mind!  And here I put in the caveat that for the most part, I do enjoy the process, although sometimes it feels like being pushed and pulled and squished in a frenzy of activity whilst simultaneously being expected to be a reflective practitioner.  A paradox, a paradox... yet life is about paradox and, often times because of that, more challenging but also more enjoyable.  Nevertheless, how do I build in patterns now that will stand me in good stead later on?  Those practices that will help stave off burn out and drop out?

In an attempt to become a little more accountable to myself about those demands that take pieces of me, and the subsequent lack of peace, and in hope of getting my life and balance back, I'm going to spend this semester not doing pulpit supply, get better at saying the word 'no', and go and spend time sitting on 'my' beach.... Time to think, while I can, and perhaps time to build in some way of remembering to take the time to feel the sand between the toes, listen to the waves, watch the sunsets, and formulate a strategy for doing this when demands come crowding in again.  It's odd: I used to be so good at this - training for ministry has seen some unwelcome 'rat-race rot' creep back in.
Let's see how this mini-sabbatical from churchly duties goes this semester...!

Aaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!!!

Today be
International Talk Like a Pirate Day mateys.
So sit ye doon and lookie: here be pirate joke treasurrrre...
oh, and quite a cheery wee cupcake to celebrate with as well ... *ahem*... arrrrrr!!!

What is a pirate's favorite prayer?

The ARRRRrrr Father!! 

 

Where does a pirate go to sign up for his college courses in scallywaggery?

The registraRRRRRRRRGH!

 

How do pirates solve their differences?

ARRRRrrrrrrbitration! 

 

How do pirates communicate with dogs?

Pirate: AARRRrrrr!!!!
Dog: AAARRRRrrrff, AAAAARRRRrffff!! 

 

What do Jamaican pirates listen to?

Bob MaRRRRRley!! 

 

What do pirates put on toast?

Marrrrmalade!!! 

 

What do you get when you mix a pirate with a vampire?

DraculARRRR 

 

and to finish with an historical nod:

What did the pirate captain call his collection of ship's logs from plundered vessels?

His ARRRRCHIVES! 

 

 

Do carry on...

and now, on with the thesis... :)

Having submitted my 'stuff' for the Board last week, I set to the task of quizzing myself, memorising footnotes, cosying up to Mr Knox to ask his advice... all the while coming down with what has been the filthiest, nastiest cold I've had the misfortune of experiencing.  Ack.
And so Friday loomed and I arrived at New College.
Free buffet lunch, as a 'welcome' to the start of play of the academic year, saw me juggling a couple of sarnies, a coffee, danish and a plum.  Sat to the side of the room quietly dying.  And watched as illustrious supervisor wandered in also looking like death.  Brief chat ensued, with me wondering aloud about communicating via the medium of interpretive dance should my voice fail.
Wandered back up to the office - the wonderfully shiny newly refurbished gorgeous office of joyfulness with my fabulously fabby gorgeouso workspace - and continued memorising footnotes.
3pm was approaching.
Armed with my sample chapter, extended proposal, and thesis timetable - possibly one of the best pieces of creative writing I've done in a long while! - off I went.
My brain was utter mush.
Thankfully, the chair of the meeting seemed to talk at length about a particular book I might want to read.  Then a couple of fairly light questions.
The fog in my brain began to roll down in earnest, just as the next person on the panel starting asking questions.
Gasping for breath at one point and apologising, amidst the voice beginning to go, supervisor slid throat lozenges across the table silently.
Some minor relief re. voice, but brain was still fogged.
I suspect the examiner could have suggested I include a chapter on Godzilla battling zombie seamonsters and I'd have nodded in agreement. 
Ack.
I burbled incoherently.
Next examiner made a few points but no questions, really.
And that was it.
Out of the room I stepped.
In the midst of the fog, I mused on the less than ideal conditions for this type of thing.
Invited back into room
Smiles all around.
A couple of suggestions.
They seemed to like it.
I passed.
I think I smiled pathetically, thanked them for their time and asked them if it was okay to go home and die.
Was told to finish writing the thesis first.
So, I will.
But not this weekend. I am going to watch back to back episodes of the classic BBC edition of Pride and Prejudice. 
Sorry Mr Knox, it's Mr Darcy time.

and now onwards to the Board...

Yes, it's been a little bit quiet here in pilgrim-whirled... have been editing like mad in a race to a Monday 9am deadline.  Finished chapter and proposal tidying last night at 11pm and submitted them.  And now, best read and reflect on what I've written so I can sound vaguely coherent for the Board on Friday.  So, what is my thesis about??? Answers on a postcard please.  In the meantime... sleeeeeeeep...er, thinking time.

an alphabet of gratitude: loose ends

Way back at the end of August last year, I had decided I'd try to be a little more intentional about practising gratitude and I was doing relatively well until life quietly did its thing and took over.  Which isn't to say I have not been living in a state of ingratitude since Jan. 2010, when the 'alphabet of gratitude' stopped at the letter 'S' and sort of sat in a layby until now [she said, defensively].  But I do like to tie up loose ends, to see thing come to some kind of conclusion wherever possible - although getting better at learning some things can't and won't get 'sorted' this side of heaven.  Anyhoo this one's kinda easy to sort out in a one-er!

'T' is for ...

T-Rex: the scariest dinosaur of 'em all and let's be blunt, dinosaurs are cool, right? This goes in for a small friend whose name also begins with 'T', and who can tell you everything you need to know on the subject of dinosaurs.  Not to be confused with the pop band led by Marc Bolan, but who also get an honourable mention for making music fun.

Theology: to quote Karl Barth 'in the Church of Jesus Christ there can and should be no non-theologians.'

Tigger: "Bouncy trouncy flouncy pouncy fun fun fun fun fun. The most wonderful thing about tiggers is I'm the only one!"
 
Tintern Abbey: chiefly for the grin it causes as I run an old Woganesque conversation in my head 'Tintern Abbey'/ 'tis an abbey'/ 'aye, Tintern Abbey...' etc. :)


'U' is for...

Umbrella: and thinking of that great quote which runs along the lines: 'the rain falls upon the just and also on the unjust fellas, but mostly it falls upon the just 'cause the unjust have the just's umbrellas'

Umbrella tree: lovely memories from childhood of these - especially watching the water dripping from them after tropical rainstorms.

Unconventionality: because normal is sooo over-rated; and because I believe in a God who is utterly unconventional and in his son, who defied convention.  I love what Frederick Buechner says on this: 'If the world is sane, then Jesus is mad as a hatter and the Last Supper is the Mad Tea Party. The world says, Mind your own business, and Jesus says, There is no such thing as your own business. The world says, Follow the wisest course and be a success, and Jesus says, Follow me and be crucified. The world says, Drive carefully — the life you save may be your own — and Jesus says, Whoever would save his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. The world says, Law and order, and Jesus says, Love. The world says, Get and Jesus says, Give. In terms of the world's sanity, Jesus is crazy as a coot, and anybody who thinks he can follow him without being a little crazy too is laboring less under a cross than under a delusion.'
[From: Listening to Your Life: Daily Meditations with Frederick Buechner]

Upbeat: well, joy is the simplest form of gratitude [Barth again!]

'V' is for ...

Voyages: of discovery, both inner and outer

Voice: for chatting, singing, for preaching and prayer

Violin: especially when playing Vivaldi!!

'W' is for...

Wilderness: and wildness and living, breathing, growing woods for wandering and wondering.

Worship: and those moments looked-for and unlooked-for when God comes close and takes your breath away

Wonder: and awe and surprise.

'X' is for...
xtraspecially interesting letter - without which other words could not be, but by itself struggles a little  [yes, well, c'mon, it's a bit of a tricky one!]

'Y' is for...

Yachts and yachting, the salt tang in the air, the fresh breeze, the slap of water hitting your face occasionally, the flap of the unfurled sails

Yaks: just because they are cool 

Yellow: sunshine colour that cheers the soul - from daffodils to my happy yellow flat

'Z' is for...

Zebras: predestined to ever follow the fortunes of Newcastle United

Zest: for life and zest that enlivens cooking - both tangy and making life that little bit tastier.

Zinnias: gorgeous, glorious riotous colour.

And that about wraps up the alphabet of gratitude this time around... hurrah.  Task complete :)
Off to muse on farms and fishing for a couple of days....

a robe by any other name...

is still a robe.  

The subject of clerical 'fashion' was one of the many tailends of conversations I wandered into over the course of the recent candidates' conference in St Andrews [apparently, according to Dad, you can play golf there, too, although not necessarily in clerical garb].  As it has cropped up occasionally in my thoughts as well as in other conversations, I thought it was time to have a stab at ... oh dearie me, no: poor phrasing with connotations of 'who will rid me of this troublesome priest?!' ...

[starts again on the 'once more with feeling' principle]

Er, so, thought I'd do that which is required of student ministers these days and 'reflect' on the apparently thorny question of 'to robe, or not to robe?'  

Plus, it gives me an opportunity to highlight a most fabby blog featuring a wondrous collection of pretty piccies which illustrate just how weird, wild and downright wacky some robes can be when good intentions or ample egos make the business of conducting worship decently and in good order that much harder...

eco-congregation?

'go-faster stripes'?

'fresh expressions' of church took on a whole new meaning, as Rev Lil Surfergirl suddenly emerged through the improvised communion table, dramatically clutching the body of Christ

So, some thoughts -

First/ 

Context. is. important.  

Robing and worship:

No point when on placement being all robed up when your supervisor is not.  And when doing pulpit supply, as a visitor, aim to fit in as much as possible with the practice of the minister there - a combination of continuity of practice but also courtesy.

On having become a parish minister... over a period of time, you can quietly change the practice if you have a particular theological veiwpoint re. the robes in/ not in worship debate but sensitivity towards the congregation is probably a helpful and kind thing too.  But also, church architecture can play a part in what you might or might not wear.  What is right or appropriate?

Given that there are times when we conduct worship within the civic context, such as Remembrance Sunday, out of sensitivity to those folk who expect you to look like a minister at such an event... yup, bite yer tongue and just do it, I think.

Robes for sacraments - communion and baptisms - well, I would, but that's just me.  There's an aspect of the robing debate that sometimes gets overlooked: putting on 'the uniform' is, I think, a very visual way of noting sacred time and space.  So pre-service wandering about chatting to folks in 'civvies'... and then going off and robing and coming back to conduct worship - useful visual clues/ symbolism that say more than words 'come, now is the time to worship'.

And a reminder to me, at least, that when I put on the 'uniform' this is not about me, it's about 'us':  

1/ God at the relational centre and the reason why 'we' are all here

2/ministry as a relational part of that: as a partnership and whatever is done is done [hopefully] in His name, through the power of His Spirit

3/ relational as a way of going this is indeed the body of Christ here represented in this neck of the woods...us as the community of God's people.

Robes on 'ordinary' Sundays - well, again, my own thought is at least clericals/collar - visitors at church can work out who the minister is more quickly!!!! ;)

Outwith worship contexts - sometimes it's useful to have a uniform:

because there are times when, again, it's just sheer respect/ courtesy to wear it.

I think funerals, especially parish ones in which any link with church may be rather tenuous, is where it helps to put on the 'uniform' -

a/ because folk expect you to 'look like a minister' and for easy identification... as in 'who is this stranger chapping on the door, ahh, the minister'. 

b/ I wonder if by dint of wearing the uniform, there is something about conveying of authority [yes, of course, it is God who has the authority] that gives permission to say the tough things, or even gives people a reassurance that you know what you're doing and Great Aunty Ermintrude is in safe hands, as are they?

c/ You are representing the Church as well, I think, as the great communion of saints [and granted, this might not quite be the language folks you're visiting might use] and it is just respectful to oblige when people are in grief contexts

And then there are hospital visits - if needing to be done outside of visiting hours, then it's like a badge that allows access... [just don't go too early - during rounds, during meals - when you'll just get in the way of hospital staff.]

 

Visiting - being mindful of who we are visiting: for those who are in various stages of dementia, a collar at least will serve to show what you are/ who you represent, and maybe remind some folks of who you are as well.  They may not get your name, but they might at least be provided with a clue by what you're wearing.  It also helps to make folks a little less anxious - so pastorally perhaps reassuring?

Second/ 

Some non-phrases re. non- robing:

'but I don't feel comfortable', 

or 'I don't feel like it', 

or 'it's not me' ... 

nope, not good enough.  It's a little too 'all about me', I'm afraid.  Find some theological arguments.  There are good ones either side of the discussion; think about why you're going to use/ not use robes and how this might express your particular theology of ministry - not whether it just feels icky.  Hmmm, that sounded a wee bit stern, but it's less about us and more about the folks we're called to serve, innit?  And that certainly crosses both sides of the debate.   

Third/ 

That priestly role 'thang': 

robes can serve to be a reminder of being set apart as well as being a part, perhaps... we have been called as a part of the body of Christ, to be set apart to minister to that body...?

There is the issue of pride - but that argument cuts both ways I think:

it can help stop the pride thang - you cover yourself/ are trying to be less a distraction with those marvellous 'funny ties' or lovely blouses - and are hopefully more a pointer to God.  Yeah, conversely I'm sure some folk love wearing their stuff - robes or ties to say 'look at me'!!!

But I do wonder about the 'reluctance' I sometimes see with regard to wearing the uniform: it makes me wonder if this may occasionally portray an inner wrestling about what it is to take up the call and be a minister and thus,the physical wearing of the uniform is, in that manner, uncomfortable? Not always, but that, too, makes me curious - I just like the way we all tick, really!!

Last/

In the end, whichever side of the discussion you are on a couple of useful rules of thumb:
i/It ain't a doctrinal issue - I suspect getting to heaven is not dependant upon the wearing or non-wearing of clerical outfits.

ii/If your clergy get-up gets in the way of ministry, ditch it.  If your non-clergy get-up impedes... get on those clericals. 

And just as a post-script, if you haven't checked her out, go see the wonderful Peacebang's blog over at Beauty tips for Ministers - she is the epitome of style and taste :D

 Okay, maybe just a little too 'tacky'?

Tea shops and stools of repentance

Repentance seat, Holy Trinity Church, St Andrews

Candidates' Conference, St Andrews... last of 5.

Having arrived here at morning tea time on Friday to meet the new folks, I was able to wander aboot the toon on Saturday morning while they were in a safeguarding session.
This was a wee wander with a purpose: wanted to revisit Holy Trinity Kirk in St Andrews to take a few more pic's.  Quality a little better than last time, but suspect a higher level camera is needed really, and should have taken the tripod.  Anyway, was a nice Knoxian/ discipline jaunt and the beadle was soooo incredibly lovely and enthusiastic about the treasures housed around the kirk.  Not only did he obligingly allow me to take the bits and pieces off the repentance seat [left] for a clearer pic, he allowed me into the locked room where I knew smaller stools of repentance were tucked away [right] to take pic's as well.

Stool of repentance, Holy Trinity, St Andrews.

Some very nice, tho modern, carvings in there, and then he opened up a door in which a swag of beautifully polished communion silver was stored.
He was lovely and I was a happy amateur historian :)

I do like my supervisor's way of describing how quickly Reformation was accepted in St Andrews;
the sense that change was so rapid that the good folk of St Andrews woke up Catholic and went to bed Protestant.  And the notion of iconoclasm as Protestants having a 'smashing time'.  St Andrews is a wonderful place for just wandering around and going 'ooh' as you walk past various buildings with various bits of history [yup, the technical term!] but it's also rather excellent for the sheer amount of tea shops.  Two were sampled yesterday....

Meanwhile, back at the conference, I suspect I am probably a nerdy geek-girl but I quite enjoy these things.  I think it's the people-factor thing.  I've worked out there are two ways to approach conference:
1/ pick the thing to pieces and be very critical and set up a circle of negativity...and probably in the process hate every minute, or/
2/ just hunker down and find the good stuff - and there is good stuff and good craic as well.  It's very cool that folk are so willing to give of their time and experience and it is also excellent to see all the folk you're training with - and to meet the new folks.  There's a sense of support and solidarity about it all that I like.  But I am 'miss silver lining girl' as a former spiritual director once noted!
The only down-side, really, is that I am indescribably tired and my brain feels like mush, and there's so much work to do before handing this in on the morning of the 12th for the Board on the 17th - but the work is coming along much more happily now and a happier supervisor makes for a happier supervisee.

still waiting, still writing, still breathing

Looks like miracles still happen: my Board date was shifted.  Actually, it's been shifted 3 times since my last post due to combinations of clashing schedules, holiday, zombie apocalypse and even the Papal visit... okay, so I was fibbing with regard to the zombies, the rest, including the Pope, is true. 
Pity.
Would be rather entertaining to see zombies and Knoxy battle it out in the quad.  I suspect if they were Protestant zombies, they'd probably be okay... ;)
The lastest state of play is a date for the 17th Sept.  Three weeks to have all my writing done and then submit.  One week of reading it all again and anticipating questions having spotted fatal flaws.  And this is just 1st year.  Crumbs.  If I survive and get to 3rd year I'm not sure I'll live through the viva.  Handily, I have just sorted out my will.....

National Library of Scotland: home sweet home?

In the meantime, I really do feel like I've taken up residence in the NLS...
It's a nice 'office away from office' while our postgrad space is being refurbed, and not having to shove through buskers and tourists up the Royal Mile is a plus.
And I also have a friend who works there, so the occasional conspiratorial grin is exchanged amidst the hushed and scholarly atmosphere.  The downside is not having my own books about me to work from.

This is the 3rd attempt at this wretched chapter... as in mostly all new, as opposed to just editing and footering about.  I truly hope that I've got the focus right this time around.  It's an odd business - reams of data and working out how to analyse and order it.  Which is why it was probably very gratifying indeed on Sunday afternoon to do physical battle with the evil ivy of doom infesting the back wall. 
Bwah hahahahahaha.
Although the gazillions of baby spiders crawling about after was a tad disturbing... empirical evidence suggests that there is one huge very cheesed off mama spider plotting murder.
Perhaps I might just take the sleeping bag with me tomorrow when I head back into the library.

So, I'm guessing we don't get the extension then?

Aaaargh!
The deadline of doom fast approacheth and sooooo much work yet to do.
Preparing for my 1st year PhD board - interrogation by a panel of 4-5 academics who will have read my sample chapter, and also my extended proposal outlining the research, methodology, why there's a thesis-shaped hole in the field of research, and chapter headings and a brief precis of what will appear in each chapter, as well as an extended bibliography.  Proposal's mostly fine and dandy, just needs tidied.
Chapter, however, is in its 3rd attempt; at least this time around I think I may have found the focus.  Hmmm.  Added to which I have been boxing up the books I keep on my desk in the office because our office is being refitted - fabulous timing.  I shall be living in the National Library for the next several weeks.  All this by way of saying I may not be around as much as I might normally be.  3 weeks and counting.  I'm feeling the need for chocolate - or cupcakes.
*twitch, twitch*
Aaaaargh!

Apocalypse Bakery

My lovely friend Clare is a theologian and a cook... and has decided to jump into the blogosphere. She describes her blog Apocalypse Bakery thus:

'Every night, I dream vividly about one of two things. The first is cake, making beautiful delicious cakes of every flavour. The second is the apocalypse and the survival of the human race in the face of nuclear explosions, technological uprisings, epidemics and even zombie trees waging an environmental war against the Capitalists. Hence, whilst awake, I have an insufferable need to bake cakes and an overwhelming desire to save the world from devastation. My life’s work is finding a way of combining the two.'

An uber-scrumptious cookie recipe kicks off the blog. You'll find her over here.  She is probably one of the best cooks and theologians I know and falls into that rare category of one of life's very inspiring and gracious people. :)

that's a rap, folks...

exploring different approaches to the sermon, session #1: the one-minute sermon...
Tamara Lowe rapping a sermon - oddly we were not taught this in our homiletics classes.