Of Samaritans and Appointments

About this time last year, several of my talks at Church had centred around the prophet Samuel and his relationship with Saul and David.  I felt quite drawn to the Old Testament passages and strongly believed that God wanted to use them to impress upon the church the difference between his criteria and our own.  This seemed especially relevant as the time began to draw near for Canon David Capron (then Rector of our minster), to retire... and many of my sermons then were aimed at preparing the congregation (at my church at least), for that time and the time to come.

 

A year has passed since then and now our minster is about to come to the climax of those times - the recruitment process for David's replacement is in full swing and the interview process takes place over the next two days.  From a human perspective if I'm honest, I'm fairly anxious about what/who comes next and worry about the process and all those involved. From a heavenly perspective, I know that God is in complete control and that he knows what/who comes next and why... so in some ways I'm conflicted.

 

Now last week I found myself responsible for prayers in the service. When I do the prayers I never completely script them, I make a few notes as to what I'm praying about... but I like to leave it as free and flexible as possible... in case anything crops up in the service (especially the readings or sermon), that inspires me in my petitions. Last Sunday was one such occasion as I felt God speak to me pretty clearly through the Parable of the Good Samaritan: 

On one occasion an expert in the law stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he asked, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?”

"What is written in the Law?” he replied. "How do you read it?” 

He answered, “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind’ and, ‘Love your neighbour as yourself.’" 

“You have answered correctly,” Jesus replied. "Do this and you will live.” 

But he wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbour?”

In reply Jesus said: “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he was attacked by robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead. A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan, as he travelled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, brought him to an inn and took care of him. The next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper. ‘Look after him,’ he said, ‘and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.’" 

“Which of these three do you think was a neighbour to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?” 

The expert in the law replied, “The one who had mercy on him.” 

Jesus told him, “Go and do likewise."

Luke:10:25-37

What particularly stood out for me, was how well the images and characters from the parable translate to the idea of a recruitment process. In the story, the two men who are on paper the most qualified servants of God, walk on by. Now it can be understood that those men were acting  in accordance with the law as they understood it (at the time, touching a dead body would make them ritually unclean... and so they were playing it safe... thinking that their ritualistic duties were more important.  But the Samaritan brushed all this aside... even ignored the mutual disdain between his two peoples, to make sure the needs of the wounded man were addressed.

The question "Who is my neighbour?" for those in Alcester Minster is equivalent to "Who is our leader?"

I strongly believe that what matters in choosing a new leader, is not the background and churchmanship. We should not be looking for the person who is most priestly on paper or in appearance. It doesn't matter if they don't  have the same attachment to tradition or pattern of worship as a certain clique within the church. What matters is that the person who comes, sees the needs of the churches and respective communities... and addresses them.

Going back to my preaching last year and I'm reminded that the same theme is picked up when Samuel anoints David.  Samuel is pretty confident that all of Jesse's text book hero sons are going to be God's choice of new king... and yet God ignores and rejects all of them... instead choosing the gingery runt of the family.

God makes it explicitly clear that our choices are not his choices and we need to recognise his sovereign wisdom when making appointments in the Church.

"The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart."

1 Samuel 16:7b

I believe we need to look for the neighbour... not the priest. We need to look for a person who is a wellspring of Christ's grace and mercy,  not a champion of ritual; and tradition. My prayer is that God grants the wisdom however subconsciously, to those interviewing on Tuesday

"For I desire mercy, not sacrifice, and acknowledgement of God rather than burnt offerings."

Hosea 6:6

A Covenant of Convenience?

There are some words in the English language that hold a special meaning.

You can usually tell which ones they are because they have an archaic feel to them and their meanings has rarely changed. Trespass is one of these words... it refers to the illegal crossing of a boundary (geographical or moral), it is a word that has remained rooted in the traditional English form of the Lord's Prayer. I used another of these words when I first christened my blog - Sanctuary; and it is one of these words that I want to look at in more detail, as it is very relevant to something that is going on in my town at this very moment. The word... is "covenant".

If you look up the word covenant in the dictionary, you will not be at a loss to understand what it means. A covenant is essentially a promise, pledge or oath or agreed or proclaimed by one or more parties. Covenants can take many forms - unilateral, bilateral, multilateral, secular, religious and ultimately, even the divine.

Whatever form they take, they all hold one thing in common; they bind the parties involved by law or divine will, to the circumstances that have been agreed upon or proclaimed. They are considered sacrosanct  This is something that doesn't site easily in the modern world. In a throwaway society, the duration of a promises' relevance has continually been eroded.

And now I come to my motivation for highlighting these things - the fate of the Hannah Susan Greig Memorial Hall in my home town of Alcester.

The Greig, Alcester

Hannah Susan Greig was a lady who devoted her life to bettering the needs of those around her... most specifically, the local youth. When she passed away, her husband used his funds to build a hall in her memory... that would help continue the work she started.The land was sold to his charitable trust with a covenant that it would only be used for youth and civic use.  Just over half a century later, that covenant finds itself under threat.

The current Board of Trustees for the Grieg have determined that its current business model is not profitable... and have proposed a course of action that will see the original covenant lifted and prepare the way for significant housing development. Stratford-upon-Avon District Council's portfolio holder has agreed to this with the proviso that £200,000 of an £800,000 loan be paid back in return as a kind of administration fee.

I am completely opposed to this course of action... principally because I believe all agreed covenants should be respected. It is a matter of honour. As a man of faith I understand the importance of keeping covenants... for I believe my very salvation depends on it. Where would be if God decided the covenant he established through his Son was a bit of a "no brainer" and couldn't be bothered with it any more? As lost and royally stuffed that scenario would leave us, we'd equally be  outraged. There's a cosmic understanding of the arrangement.

God does not say:

"I am altering the deal. Pray I don't alter it any further."

No... that was Darth Vader.

Instead, this is what God says in His Word:

"He is the LORD our God; his judgements are in all the earth. He remembers his covenant forever, the promise he made, for a thousand generations"

Psalm 105:7-8

Or as Billy Graham once put it:

"God said it, in His Word. I believe it, in my heart. That settles it... forever".

If we have a God who honours his Word at every opportunity he gives it... should we not also live in such a manner? Keeping covenants, honouring commitments and upholding righteous promises that fall within our jurisdiction? I believe so and I believe that's what the Bible says too.

That's not to say covenants are inflexible. Jesus himself knew all too well that the words of God's covenants and promises could be warped by men... and on occasion reiterated or illustrated his teaching which reinforced the Spirit of what was meant.

Covenants should not be hampered by legalism. You only have to go to Jerusalem and see the Immovable Ladder to see how a covenant can be warped into upholding something meaningless.

Going back to the Alcester situation, I'm not hanging on for the sake of sentiment or tradition. I would get behind an update of the site that made it more relevant to the current youth and civic generation. I think you could redevelop the side buildings and main hall whilst retaining the Art Deco style of the atrium. I could even accept a change in use of the site if it honoured the Spirit of why that site exists. For example... if the covenant remained and houses were built that were exclusively aimed at providing starter homes for young people or families... I would see that as honouring the commitment.

However, the inconvenient truth of the matter is that social housing and doing good, are very rarely profitable ventures. It seems as though the covenant has now become inconvenient and will be disposed of as soon as profitable. I am grateful to my father and the other local councillors who are upholding the will of many townsfolk (myself included), by calling the decision in to be examined by the Overview and Scrutiny committee.

How this pans out, only time will tell... but it would be nice to have faith in people and think that  this promise... this pledge... this one covenant made many years ago... would still be valued and upheld by a generation that lives in a time where so many others are so casually tossed aside.

A Different Vigil

As you may or may not know, on Maundy Thursday, I have in recent years had a tradition of visiting the church in my home town and sitting there in prayer for about an hour or so.

I do this in gratitude for what I believe Jesus did for me, because I like to try and give a little bit back. Knowing that he had nobody with him 2,000 years ago as he knelt and prayed with the weight of destiny and the knowledge of what he must suffer on his shoulders; I can't help but feel a sadness that his best friends couldn't keep their eyes open just for a while. So with this very much in mind and knowing that God is eternal, I go... to pray for Jesus in Gethsemane in the time leading up to his arrest, even though I know what happened. It's not that I think I'm anything fantastic, I do it completely as a response to what he first did for me.

However, having been to Israel and sat upon the Mount of Olives... I am now acutely aware that churches are perhaps not the best place to do this. Jesus did not go to the temple. Jesus went to the hill that looked across to his city, and watched over it as he prayed.I wanted to connect to that notion a little better. So last night, I changed old habits. I very nearly didn't, if the weather had been inclement... I would have abandoned the notion.

At about midnight, I took a torch and backpack and headed out to Primrose Hill. As you may know from previous Easter entries, this is the hill that every year blooms with a 30ft daffodil cross.... and this year is no exception (although the daffodils have bloomed even earlier and are know dying... and their number was somewhat diminished due to people sledging in winter).

I gingerly hopped across the A46 dual carriageway as Royal Mail lorries thundered past me deep into the night. Making my way along a bridle path, I eventually found the field that led to the hill. As I was now pretty much off the beaten track, I was quite anxious. Despite the presence of the moon, it was quite hard to make out entirely where I was going. I didn't know what critters were out there and my deepest concern was being discovered by some shotgun wielding angry farmer demanding to know my business at midnight... there was the loud sound of a gate rattling, it sounded as if someone had discovered me... but nothing came of it.

So it was that I found myself sitting above the crossbeam of the daffodil cross, illuminated only by the moon's pale light... and looking down upon the streetlights of the sleeping town of Alcester.

It was a moving experience. I really didn't feel alone. I had a great sense of God's presence as I prayed over the town... and for the historical event I was commemorating. I think it was more poignant and relevant for me to be able to do it this way. I eventually left the hill at 1am and made my way back into town. I did stop off and spend some time in the church, but being out there on the hill, really gave me a deeper appreciation and sense of "being there".

Having said that, being on a hill in the middle of nowhere is a little intimidating... especially when you aren't sure you should be there.

I am of a mind to do this again next year... but I'm seriously thinking of gathering a few brave souls to join me.... simply because I feel more could be done with a few more people.

Sorry I've been absent, had a few things on my mind lately... and for those of you who have access to the Inner Sanctum part of my blog, I may expand more a little on said things.

I have had a blog brewing for some time and I hope to post it very soon, however until that time... have an incredibly blessed Easter. Whatever you do with your time, I pray the peace of Christ that was won for us at great cost on that first Good Friday will fill your hearts and minds.

Jabbed.

With my very first personal odyssey of discovery looming, I'm having to make certain preparations that I'm not used to. Firstly I've purchased a pair of indestructible sandals in the sales. I promise I will not be wearing them with socks.

I've never been a sandal fan, but these are quite different. They are closed toe; so my awkward, accident prone feet will be safely shielded from danger. They have extremely sturdy soles for rigorous walking and they are not harmed in salt water either.

I think someone has basically found an amphibious assault craft, removed two shoe shaped segments and essentially glued a cushioned sole to them. They are seriously comfy and dare I say... awesome.

Today we started to get into the serious territory though... the jabs. Fortunately I only needed one (protection against Hepatitis A), and I was lucky to have time owed in lieu at work... so I left at 5pm and headed off to the doctors.

It was very kind of President Obama to wait a few minutes till I got into my car before getting sworn in. I was further impressed when he kept his speech to the length of my car journey from work to the doctors. I actually thought he did extremely well. He paused in the middle of being sworn in, I guess the enormity of the words that were coming out of his mouth had actually struck him something like:

"Oh flip... I'm the President!"

Irrespective of what people think of Obama's policies and political leanings, there's no doubting the man is a born orator. I was first truly impressed with his skills as a speaker when he responded to the Rev Jeremiah Wright incident. Instead of getting caught on the back foot, he spent a good lengthy period unravelling American history and diagnosing the various causes of the grievances in American society... white and black. He did a brave thing, he said that both groups had a right to feel aggrieved but equally both bore a burden of responsibility about how to heal the problem from their own side of the field. I found that speech fascinating as it demonstrated a great deal of personal knowledge about the history, culture, of the various peoples of America...

... and today that knowledge came to the fore once more as he appealed to his people -all of them. The time for talking is over for now though, and when tomorrow dawns... the business of government cranks into gear once more for America.

Following the speech, I found myself waiting in the surgery for about quarter of an hour before being seen to. Little tip... don't wear a white shirt when getting a jab.

As I walked out into the main reception area, everyone who was still waiting started getting jittery as they gazed upon the red patch of blood that had stained a significant patch on my arm.

For the record, I still don't have a clue what blood group I am. Red and gloopy is the best description I can manage.

Anyway, the jab was surprisingly painless (my last booster jab for tetanus caused some stiffness in my arm, but no such qualms here).

In other unrelated news, I've been up to no good. I've dug out some old college videos on VHS. I don't have the proper equipment to transfer them to computer... but I do have a digital camera. So I took great pleasure in filming segments of these videos and posting them on Facebook. I'm a bit wary about posting them on YouTube (I borrowed a couple of effects shots for my college project). I'd love to show you them but you may need to twist my arm.

However, one video I have uploaded to YouTube... it was a pop promo from my days in college. We had to edit footage to the beat of a music video. Out of the three options we were given, I chose Money for Nothing by Dire Straits. Off I scuttled with a camcorder, sought permission to film in the local church and then filmed the praise band setting up (I think I improved their sound heh heh!)

The video essentially turns the concept of fame on it's head and was almost prophetic about reality TV. I shot it from the perspective of a man (my dad) who is trapped in a television and wants to gain fame like the band who are not confined to a TV screen.Anyway for those who are curious about such things, or who want to see how tragic my hair looked 15 years ago, here it is in it's slightly bootleg looking glory:

However... on the "Light Side" of things...

After that heavy post, I thought it only fair to balance it out by talking about something a little lighter.

Well I'm proud to announce that I have joined the Jedi Order:

Yes... I donned my robes and took up my lightsaber in a bid to slay any Sith Lords who might dare to show their face at Alcester's annual Street Market... which this year was given the theme "At the Movies".

I entered the costume competition but didn't get anywhere... should have seen that coming when one of the two judges said with with great disdain "Yes! I know who you are... Star Wars!"

I would wager she hadn't seen the films and only seen kids/young men running round waving glowing plastic swords about in juvenile fashion... pretending to be Luke Skywalker. People of a certain age and above seem to have an allergic reaction to anything science fiction related... especially if it's Star Wars.

If the pictures in the press, I'm going to post it here and let you draw your own conclusions as to who the 1st, 2nd and 3rd place should have been. I think it might raise a few of your eyebrows.

I'm not bitter though... I just loved the excuse to wander round my hometown kitted out as a Jedi. It comes in handy you know... I accidentally pulled a Jedi mind trick on an ice cream man who insisted on charging me 50p less than he should have until I finally convinced him I owed him more money. It also gives you an air of authority. A bunch of kids lobbed some litter on the floor next to a bin... when I motioned to them to pick it up and put it in the bin... they obeyed without hesitation... weird huh? Maybe Police and Community Support Officers should try wearing this get up!

The only down side is that it's not very practical clothing for a baking hot sunny day. I was wearing three layers out there and I spent most of the day slumped in various corners as I was severely dehydrated, no matter how much I drank it didn't seem to have any good effect.

Still, one must suffer for one's art and I'd do it all again.... in fact I'm looking for an opportunity to do so!

My Take on the Quake!

I am gutted.

Everybody was talking all about it at work.... a 5.2 tremor on the Richter scale, the epicentre of which was located in Market Rasen in Lincolnshire.

It was felt as far afield as Wales, Liverpool and the Thames valley... and apparently South Warwickshire. I say apparently because I slept right through... in fact, I think I nodded off just moments before everything kicked off. How unfortunate am I? I would have seriously have revelled in it.

Why do I say that?

Earthquakes are dangerous things... you only have to look back a few years back in 2004 to see the devastation caused by the Boxing Day Tsunami... thousands dead as far away as Africa, to realise this. Cities have been levelled, civilizations have been brought down by them... when in full force they are not to be taken lightly.

Yet this is Britain... we have a habit of making things that happen over here, bigger than they actually are. A little bit of snow falls and the nation is paralysed... the wind picks up a bit and we should all stay inside! We are very lucky in this country and we would do well to remember it. Yes there were the floods... and before you accuse me of oversight on that, let me remind you that I live in one of the towns that has been the worst hit... twice in 10 years. Lets get some perspective here though; even with the effects of global warming, our injuries and casualties in the face of natural disaster are pretty low compared to nations with less fortunate location or infrastructure. We are blessed.

So when the Earth starts undulating in this country, at best it's a few bumps and bruises and a hefty insurance bill for collateral damage... and something new to talk about during an otherwise mundane and monotonous day.

And I missed out this time.

The last "significant" quake we had a few years ago, just about woke me up from the slumber I had fallen into on the sofa.

The first earthquake I really remember, was some time around 1990/1991. I was in a biology class and I recall a very strange feeling...as if we were on a boat that had hit a large wave. It felt like we had plummeted about 20-30 foot, and then come back up again just as swiftly. I have fond memories of that day because I was the first person to risk looking stupid and point out that something had happened... and because of poor old Mr Jarvie's practical demonstration of what causes an earthquake... which resulted most of the class falling about in fits of laughter.

On reflection however, maybe I should take earthquakes a little more seriously. According to folklore... my town has some seismic history:

In circa 709 AD, the bishop (later saint) Egwin visited the town of Alcester as part of an ecclesiastical council held to consecrate the foundation of Evesham Abbey. He preached the Gospel but the townsfolk were hardhearted to his message and drowned him out with the sounds of their industry... and so he departed the town and shook the dust of his feet. According to legend the Earth opened up and took the smiths into her bosom. The town's prosperity ebbed and dwindled from that day forth.

Maybe it is just legend but I'll wager there is some truth. There is a geological ridge not far from the town... and what little I know of the tale, suggests Egwin acted in accordance with biblical tradition and even if you explain away the earthquake, you still have to account for the sudden change in the town's fortunes.

Anyway enough of myth, legend and lore. I think I'll leave you with a link to other people's reactions to the day's events.

I wonder how Alastair got on... he is a lot closer to the action than me!

Sacrifice

I've been absent from my blog for the past week, because to be honest... how do you follow news like that covered in my last post?

Now seems an appropriate time to reflect on other things, whilst still bearing in mind the events of the last week.

Today is Remembrance Sunday... the day when we traditionally call to mind the horrors of the last century's wars (and of course, more recent and even current conflicts). We think about those who laid down their lives, those who suffered due to the loss of loved ones, and those who came back and somehow tried to put the pieces of their lives back together in the aftermath of the harsh events they had witnessed.

For me remembrance is less about the war itself, and more about showing respect for people who had the courage, conviction and willingness to sacrifice their own lives (in life or in death), to preserve the freedoms and relative well being that I can experience in this country today. Today for the first time in my living memory, Alcester called out the names of men who had not died due to military conflict - the names off course, were the names of the firefighters: Ashley Stephens, Darren Yates-Badley, Iain Reid and John Averis. They may not have died to save their country from a foreign threat... but nobody, NOBODY can deny that the sacrifices they made in life and in death... preserved people's freedom and well being as well. How many people today enjoy liberty and life due to the work of those men... and for that matter all this world's fire, rescue and emergency workers? So it is all the more fitting that they also were remembered along with the war dead today (read more about their lives here).

Many of the tributes that have poured in to Alcester and indeed Stratford-upon-Avon over the past week, have included condolences from teams of firefighters in other nations. Most notably and poignantly among those, have been the words of the Firefighters of New York. They (and several others) quoted a passage from the Bible:

"Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends."

John 15:13

Those were Jesus words to his disciples. I am also reminded of something Paul wrote to the Romans:

"Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous man, though for a good man someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us."

Romans 5:7-8

So when I read of the sacrifices made by others... irrespective if it is with respect to the Christian faith, it always reminds me of the sacrifice Christ made for the salvation of mankind - you and me.

How then, should we respond to the sacrifices made for us... be it those of servicemen, the emergency services... or ultimately the sacrifice made by Christ for our redemption?

As I passed by the war memorial to look at the names inscribed on it... and at the wreaths, I also read one of the adjoining plaques... and the words (pictured below) resonated especially with me at this time:

Live as nobly as they died. It's a big ask isn't it? However, if we continue to live only shallow lives, do we not dishonour the sacrifices that all those people made on our behalf... in good faith?

Remaining on the theme of sacrifice, I'd like to conclude with an idea of what I believe from the Bible, is a good way to "live nobly" as the memorial suggests. It is the 12th chapter of Romans, the first section of which is fittingly entitled "Living Sacrifices":

Living Sacrifices

Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God's mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God—this is your spiritual act of worship. Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.

For by the grace given me I say to every one of you: Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the measure of faith God has given you. Just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function, so in Christ we who are many form one body, and each member belongs to all the others. We have different gifts, according to the grace given us. If a man's gift is prophesying, let him use it in proportion to his faith. If it is serving, let him serve; if it is teaching, let him teach; if it is encouraging, let him encourage; if it is contributing to the needs of others, let him give generously; if it is leadership, let him govern diligently; if it is showing mercy, let him do it cheerfully.

Love

Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. Be devoted to one another in brotherly love. Honor one another above yourselves. Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Share with God's people who are in need. Practice hospitality.

Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse. Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. Live in harmony with one another. Do not be proud, but be willing to associate with people of low position. Do not be conceited.

Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everybody. If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. Do not take revenge, my friends, but leave room for God's wrath, for it is written: "It is mine to avenge; I will repay," says the Lord. On the contrary: "If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head." Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good."

Romans 12

We will remember...

To find out more about the work of The Royal British Legion and the Poppy Appeal, follow this link.

To find out how to write condolences for the Alcester and Stratford-upon-Avon firefighters or to donate funds towards the support of their loved ones, click this link to the Warwickshire Fire & Rescue Service.

Fire and Tears

This blog entry is dedicated to the brave firefighters who have been tackling the recent warehouse blaze at Atherstone... and the grievous aftermath that has followed. One fireman has died and three others remain missing after over 24 hours. Two of the four come from my hometown... which is understandably in a state of some shock. Alcester's firefighters are retained and not "full time".

If the worst case scenario proves to be reality, this will have been the worst loss of life in the fire service for over thirty years. It is a testimony to the skill, teamwork and dedication of our fire and rescue teams, that this figure has remained so low for so long; especially when you consider the quantity and frequency of call outs they receive... and the variety of hard situations they willingly put themselves into and jeopardise themselves on our behalf. None of this can be much comfort to the families, friends or colleagues of those men today; however it is important we recognise those sacrifices... and acknowledge the cost when it is high.

Police have described the fire as "suspicious" and it is being treated as an arson attack. An early witness report has suggested a possible suspect fled from amongst bushes not far from the scene. Search teams have been sent in...but the building is still extremely unstable and has not yet finished collapsing. It may take up to 36 hours to clear the scene and gather evidence... and more importantly to discover what happened to the other three firefighters (and for that matter anyone else who may possibly be in there).

My thoughts and prayers go out to those who are suffering as a consequence of the tragic events. The image below comes from one of the many tributes to the emergency services in the wake of 9/11. However, I think it is just as appropriate for this smaller local tragedy. We all need to support and pray for those who are prepared to risk their lives for us.

Waterworld

If you are in the UK, you have probably noticed on the news, the atrocious weather we've been having recently.

Yesterday started off quite nicely as we abandoned the office at noon in order to avoid being stranded in Stratford-upon-Avon. Not bad going eh? Although for once I could do without the break because I want to get a few things sorted before going off on annual leave next week.

After an hour of journeying I was dropped off home and pretty much chilled out for the afternoon...although I did stock upon a few things just in case the worst happened.

At about 8pm I ventured into town to see how things were going, as I received a message from my mum to say that the main bridge in town was rumoured to be in danger of breaking. Mum was holed up at an aunts house and was unimpressed that I was intent on going up as far as the bridge, especially as the police had not yet received the authority to close it. On a side note, I thought that was crazy... why should police on the scene have to wait for an inspector behind a desk to make a judgement call?

By the time I arrived, the arches on the bridge were completely submerged and water was beginning to trickle up through drains onto the road surface. The police were struggling to keep pedestrians at bay.

The rain drove down on us relentlessly and eventually, several key roads were shut. Periodically the police would let people skip across to the other side. It is kind of hard to stop people returning to their homes on a Friday night after all.

As the bridge was now inaccessible to traffic, I advised a few people how they could get to the other end of the town by looping back and heading up the industrial estate (which apparently also was flooding). I also offered to help a lady move her bookshelves and stuff upstairs... just in case the waters headed her way, but she said she'd get family to do it.

I spoke to an officer about my concern regarding drinkers coming out of the pub at late hours...as there were only a few coppers about and there had already been one smart alec trying to force his way onto the bridge. This resulted in me nearly getting deputised, to the point of getting one of those seriously un-trendy yellow high visibility jackets...but under health and safety conditions the control centre declined the officers request.

Eventually as darkness fell, it became very clear that this was going to be a very bad flood. Elderly people had been evacuated to the town hall, and water was now was escaping the river banks directly and pouring liberally onto the road surface.

My mum and dad who had been busy attending to the elderly refugees in the town hall,now came and insisted I come back home. Despite wearing waterproof clothing, I had been out so long that the shielding they offered had been overcome and I was now soaked through.

I headed off and showered and got changed. Then made my way out with dad to help shore up my cousin's house which by now was firmly in the front line, as the water advanced. We took bags of compost and threw them over the fence. In the end it did little good, the water did not come from the front, the back,or even the sides... it seeped up from beneath... straight through the floorboards.

Having finished that, we took an old lady back to a residential care home, from the town hall via an extremely scenic journey.

I noted with concern how the water had reached as far as the corner of School Road and was now visible from the Birmingham Road... which I don't think happened even in the great flood of 1998... and as the car headed home, we were troubled to see how quickly the water had sprung up around the Globe Island... in the space of a mere half an hour.

I clambered into bed slightly paranoid that the water would advance even as far as where I live... but it was not to be. By 10:30, I set off for the town centre to examine the devastation first hand... it was still inaccessible from most directions and I had to walk across to the far side of town to take a proper look.

Gunnings Bridge still stood, but felt much more wobbly as you stood on it. On two occasions, I heard an explosion... I have no idea what that was. Further into the heart of the town, I waded across to the local supermarket and saw half the stock floating by the front door... some of which had clearly come from the far side of the shop.

Kids were cycling through the deluge and at one point I even saw a canoeist! Some joker had put down a "CAUTION: Wet Surface!" yellow bollard by the water's edge. It was soon swept away as two fire engines hurtled into High Street sending a surge of water in all directions, to the sound of a hearty cheer from onlookers.

I wandered about the town taking photographs with my mobile phone. You can see them here.

We are in for more bad weather over the next few days... and what is more I have to walk over 2 miles to church via roads that have been closed in the current floods. Maybe I should take the "Moses stick" my sister brought back from Mount Sinai for me. The buses are still running, so work shouldn't be a problem on Monday.

Its at times like these that we should appreciate the fact we live in a country that has the finance and infrastructure to deal with this kind of flooding... and when counting the cost,we should be mindful that we get off incredibly lightly in comparison to say... Bangladesh.

I should like to add that Evesham had it much worse than us... and from what I can tell, Stratford-upon-Avon has not been hit as badly as either Alcester or Evesham... and yet media coverage has largely centred on Stratford, although this is changing as the day goes on. Typical of the Stratfordians to hog the attention... it's what they do best.

So I speak for Alcester, lest no one else does.

Note for Benny, you might want to know that Leamington has ben clobbered as the river Leam burst it's banks at the centre of town.

You Can Call Me Sir!

Yesterday was an interesting experience. It was the annual Alcester Street Market, this year themed around Medieval history. Well as you all know, I love any old excuse to dress up in ridiculous costume and have fun. So that, is exactly what I did. Why don't you play Nick's Sanctuary's version of "Where's Wally?" We'll call it "Nobble Nick":

Did you spot me? I stick out a fair bit! It's a little easier in the picture below:

The above pictures were taken during the initial parade. You can't see them here, but I had been persuaded by John Bunting to pursue a bunch of female bandits in green tights... but they escaped into the hustle and bustle of the busy market... and from there, probably back into the enchanted woods. I had to settle for tracking down a fearsome and terrible beast that stalked the church... but unfortunately my mother had returned to the Alcester in Bloom stall by then! Instead I held aloft my magic sword (er wrong show) and prepared to strike a fatal blow to the BBC Coventry and Warwickshire mascot... a terrifying demon that appeared in the form of a giant green duck (A bit like Orville on steroids)! It soon scarpered when it saw me coming though.

The weather was glorious... which isn't always a good thing when you are wearing long sleeves, full length trousers and dark colours. I managed to catch the sun throughout my brave exploits and noble pursuits as Sir Nick - Lord Protector of the Order of the Sanctuary.

Throughout the day we were treated to music from both the 60's and 80's era - a nice mix for everyone there. I remember dancing around, singing aloud and generally waving my sword about to synth pop and some of the classic retro school disco hits of yesteryear.

I was captivated and bewitched by a few fair maidens I had spotted throughout the day... particularly one who had obviously spotted the rather tragic dancing white knight dancing I was exhibiting (or maybe I ahould say she had been checking out my "knight moves" - *groan*). I could have rescued her from the dragons and dark wizards if only she'd been paying more attention.

All in all, by far the best street market in a long stretch... it was something EVERYONE could get in to and dress up for. Medieval stuff captures kids imaginations... Victorian and Edwardian stuff does not!

I thoroughly enjoyed taking part, even if I did have to be peeled out of my costume by nightfall.

I should also add that I have rather excitedly entered a rubber duck race for the first time in my life. I'm going to christen my little fellow "Duck Dodgers", I'll let you know how he gets on.

Is rubber duck racing ecologically ethical? Isn't there some kind of law against dumping that amount of plastic in a river? ;-)

Peace and Unrest

There's been a growing trend at my church in the last few weeks. We have begun to ask God for more of his peace. It is something that I believe to be fundamentally important in terms of the local area's spiritual growth. The reason I feel so strongly about that, is because I really do believe a "spirit of unrest" (for want of a better expression), exists and currently thrives in my hometown.

It is most noticeable for me, when I have been absent for some time... such as in my case - last weekend. Things seem to make people (including myself) more prickly - and they can be silly things really. Recently I have looked at the people around me, and it occurs to me that many appear to be in a state of unrest. The reasons are many and varied. For some it is worry, others it is anger, for some it is grief and still others, it is depression. I've recently spoken to a friend about the history of Alcester - principally about the supposed curse that was put upon the town in the Middle Ages (sometimes ascribed to St. Chad and sometimes ascribed to St. Egwin). Many historians don't take it seriously because they say that "saints don't curse towns". However, if you read the account it says that Chad/Egwin couldn't preach because the people of the town were to rowdy and jeered at him... so he left "shaking the dust of his feet" - this, believe it or not is a biblical concept:

"When Jesus had called the Twelve together, he gave them power and authority to drive out all demons and to cure diseases, and he sent them out to preach the kingdom of God and to heal the sick. He told them: "Take nothing for the journey—no staff, no bag, no bread, no money, no extra tunic. Whatever house you enter, stay there until you leave that town. If people do not welcome you, shake the dust off your feet when you leave their town, as a testimony against them." So they set out and went from village to village, preaching the gospel and healing people everywhere."

Luke 9:1-9

and:

"When you enter a house, first say, 'Peace to this house.' If a man of peace is there, your peace will rest on him; if not, it will return to you. Stay in that house, eating and drinking whatever they give you, for the worker deserves his wages. Do not move around from house to house. "When you enter a town and are welcomed, eat what is set before you. Heal the sick who are there and tell them, 'The kingdom of God is near you.' But when you enter a town and are not welcomed, go into its streets and say, 'Even the dust of your town that sticks to our feet we wipe off against you. Yet be sure of this: The kingdom of God is near.' I tell you, it will be more bearable on that day for Sodom than for that town.

Luke 10:5-12

So I'm not as dismissive of the historicity of Alcester's curse, as others are. However, I don't want to focus on that. Instead I want to focus on the importance of God's peace. In the the passage above, we find that Jesus commanded his followers to invite peace into the house. In fact it seems to have been an important ministry tool.

When I think of the work the church is supposed to in the community, I realised what an important role the spiritual fruit of peace plays:

How can people in active rebellion to God hear his voice, unless they learn through peace to be still and know that he is God?

How can those who mourn find comfort if they cannot first find peace and come to terms with their loss?

How can the broken-hearted and depressed know that there is hope - that night will follow day, if they first do not learn to be at peace in the situations that choke them.

How can those plagued by sickness, death, loneliness, worry, pain, sorrow, hardship and the like, find hope in Jesus... if they do not learn at first to trust that God is sovereign over all these things?

Most important of all, why should they believe that they can even receive this peace... if we do not demonstrate it ourselves? If we do not, they will just believe us to be con men.

Jesus said:

"Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God."

Matthew 5:9

We as Christians need to make peace available to the people we meet... and we will only be able to do that, if we allow ourselves to abundantly receive it from the Spirit's gracious infinite supply. If we are to be peacemakers... ten we need to be men, women and children of peace.

If I'm honest, in the last couple of weeks I've felt pretty disrupted and I have faltered. I've had that horrid feeling in my stomach again... that I'm born to struggle and that even if I need something I won't get it... because God wants me to just scrape in. I seem to have this problem with thinking I'm an exception to the rule. I need to wake up and stop falling into that pitfall. God wants me to live as abundantly as the rest of his people. I need to stop bringing myself down... because if I don't... I won't be able to lift others up. Too often I have become self destructive - I start to look at the past... sometimes even the present and assume I don't have a future. This causes me to become dejected. However I have no real reason to do this because this isn't what God says to me.

A word that God put on my heart on my birthday came back to me in timely fashion on Thursday night... and it has remained with me:

"There is a future for the man of peace."

You can find it in some translations of the Bible in Psalm 37:37.

Of course in order to become a person of peace, one must cease being a person of conflict. So I leave you with a parting gesture... for myself as much as all of you.

May the peace of God that passes all understanding, rest upon you and remain with you now and always...

Amen.

Funeral for a Friend

I've been noticing in my web statistics that a lot of people are hitting my blog, searching for news on Richard's death.

In the hope that anybody reading this is a friend or former student of Richard, wishing to pay their respects; I thought I could help by letting people know about the funeral details.

The service will begin at 11am, this Saturday at St. Nicholas Church, Alcester. Attendance is expected to be extremely high, so the service will also be relayed outside through loudspeakers.

The town will likely be swamped with traffic and I have heard it said that some of the local schools will be opening up their car parks in order for people to be able to park.

In the coming days, I hope to link this post to any obituaries or biographies that are out there. Perhaps if you have seen any, you could advise me or leave a link in the comment field.

Also, I would be honoured if people want to use this place... any of the relevant entries to post their own feelings, memories and thoughts, for others to read.

Update as of 25th April 2007:

There is now a group on Facebook that you can join, where people have been sharing their personal memories... it is open to anyone. If you wish to be a member of the group, please follow this link.

Update as of 29th April 2007:

Following the funeral, the full text of the eulogy for Richard is now available at the St. Nicholas church website. If you wish to read it, please follow this link.

Update as of 1st May 2007

Text of brief letter/tribute published on the Alcester Grammar School website. If you wish to read, please follow this link.

Obituary found on the Redditch/Alcester Standard. To read this, please follow this link.

A Beautiful Day at the Foot of the Cross

After yesterday's involuntary incarceration, it was great to be able to finally get out... and what a glorious day it has been.

First of all I ate properly for the first time in over 24 hours... okay it was just a bowl of Weetabix... but it got me started.

Normally on Easter Saturday, some of the locals travel up to a giant daffodil cross that was planted several years ago and emerges every year in time for Easter. Unfortunately, I missed the announcement of what time people would gather... because I was too busy being ill in bed yesterday.

Undaunted by this, I set off for the town centre at about noon, to see if I could ascertain when (from the various noticeboards outside the church and around town), people might be meeting to travel up to the cross. Unfortunately there was no information in town, so I set off for the outskirts with absolutely no clue when anybody else would arrive... or whether or not they had already been and I had missed them.

As I crossed the dual carriageway I was greeted by a "Wahey!!!!" and a two fingered salute from some lads travelling from Stratford-upon-Avon towards Evesham. I've got no idea what that was about.

I climbed the steep hill and reached the foot of the cross at about 1pm. It was a sunny day and I marvelled at a wake of buzzards that circled high above my position. Despite the traffic far below me on the bypass, it seemed very peaceful. It is very strange, but the time I spent up there alone seemed to pass very quickly... and it was no time at all before a steady exodus of roughly 20 townsfolk ambled up the hill.

We worshipped... singing a good mixture of relevant songs and listening to a few short extracts from scripture. Then Simon Hodges, pastor at the local Renewal church preached for a few minutes on the importance of the resurrection message... and how people needed to know that life was to be enjoyed and not just endured - that the people far below us needed to know that Jesus Christ came that we may have life and have it in abundance. One of the verses he quoted, is pretty much a scripture that is the foundation for my own church - the mission it has been called to when the season is right (Isaiah 61).

The other verse he quoted is from a passage that is dear to my own heart - John 10. A lot of the Gospel message can be summarised by what you read in that passage, Jesus lays it all out for you there. He even has the audacity to tell people exactly what is going to happen to him and why. It is powerful and beautiful - life saving stuff. Simon quoted this part:

The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.

It reminds me of the promises we have in Jesus Christ, and the need that the people of this planet have, to hear them. Too easily are preacher's tempted to preach hellfire and damnation... they fail to recognise that many of the people who are lost are not prideful and arrogant.

No.

There are many who are broken people. People who know the great distance they have fallen, people who are crushed and broken, people who feel the tendrils of despair creeping in and driving out all vestiges of hope. The people who cry out "Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man". Such people do not need to know of hell, because they feel it already. These people do not need conviction, for god has already seen to it... these people need one thing.

Hope.

So I want to finish by quoting two more verses. Messages of hope to a fallen people and a lost generation. The words of God that cry out "I love you... come home".

"For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him." - John 3:16-17

and:

"The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full." - John 10:10

May you have a blessed Easter, full of hope and joy.

N

The Return

I returned to my spiritual cradle on Sunday.

My father is coming to the end of his year of being the town mayor (for the second time). It is customary for the outgoing mayor to hold a civic service (according to whichever belief or non-belief the mayor follows), where local dignitaries from around the town, district and even county are present. In the case of my dad, the service was held at the Anglican church of St. Nicholas.

My dad is a family orientated man and being such, wanted my sister, her boyfriend and myself to play a role in the service. For Charlotte and Ron, this meant playing music... and for my part, I was asked to read the Old Testament reading.

St. Nick's is an interesting place for me; as it was the family church, it was there that I first became aware of the concept of God... it therefore marks the beginning of my spiritual journey. However, at a certain age I realised the place was not good for me and if I was to have any hope of blossoming spiritually, I needed to find my own way and so I left. I'm very wary of the place given the spiritual history of the town, the influence of Freemasons and the lack of spiritual nourishment I tend to feel on the odd occasion I do go at Christmas or Easter.

Waiting for the service to begin, I was a little nervous... because I didn't know whereabouts on the page, my reading would be. This feeling soon dissipated however as the organ resounded for the first hymn (Guide Me O, Though Great Redeemer). I really felt inspired to belt out the tune as loud I could. I feel it is a gift I have... not to lead in worship, but to sing in such a way as to enable others to lift their own praises higher.

The time came for my reading and I had NO fear, memories of past oppression did not even cross my mind. I just got up and delivered the scripture to the people. I just wanted it to read like Jesus would... more than that, I just wanted Jesus to read it through me. I kind of felt like I was making a statement of intent. A taste of things to eventually come. The town has been spiritually famished for some time... but many folk are just not aware of it. I'll tell you more about the actual passage in another post.

I continued to be moved by my dad's excellent choice of hymns (they may have been old, but they were certainly classic). Something that touched my heart was when the prayers were read. At first I thought one of them had been written by someone in the church prayer book, bu it became apparent that it was in fact a poetic prayer written empathetically in the first person, with regard to different individual groups and their various needs. I was especially touched by the prayer for/from the single person. I fall into this group and it is a group that is shamefully neglected in the prayers of many churches. I'm not saying we want to be at the top of the list, prayed for every week. I am saying that the occasional acknowledgment that sometimes the single path (whether it be by sovereign/personal choice or circumstance), can be a painful and lonely one to walk, wouldn't go amiss.

Ron played a Malawian folk song in the Chichewa language. It was a very fitting choice. It is about a town which is suffering from sickness and the people all blame an old man and make him a scapegoat, believing him to be a witch doctor. If you are interested in listening to more of Ron Nkomba's music, or finding out more about him, you can visit his Myspace profile, it is well worth a listen.

Like, the song Ron played, I believe my hometown is spiritually sick... and various groups of people blame various other groups for why that is. However, only a fool accuses the flower or the fruit as the source of wrong... but neglects the root, from which both flower and fruit draw their nourishment.

I've attached some pictures of the party after the service, I've been told I "scrub up quite well":

Regards

N

The White Stuff!

For the past two days, it has been snowing in the land of Alcester.

It has been so long since snow has fallen in abundance in my town. Firstly, it's in the centre of a valley, so we only get a light dusting. Then of course we have climate change to contend with. If the people of Britain had any doubt the climate was changing, they only need look to the Mr Whippy vans that have been out in Stratford-upon-Avon serving ice cream from January.

So, substantial snowfall is rarer these days. I always remember with fondness, the time when there was a blizzard on Christmas Eve. I was a child at the time and we had to walk all the way to the midnight service at Arrow. That was many years ago, before the bypass was built... before the Elephant Tree was cut down. I dragged my handmade ply wood sled all the way up and back again. The snow was deep, so deep... and my sled was no use at all.

That was probably 25 years ago now... and yet people talk of snow, like it never happened over Christmas. Maybe they just haven't noticed winter gradually getting thrown out of whack.

Cold, snowy days like this always remind me of my childhood. The gentle crunch of virgin snow beneath the boot. The huddling of the family round the radio as we listened to BRMB (there was no Warwickshire radio station then), to find out if our school had been closed... and the exultant cheer that followed when we discovered it inevitably had.

The way I see it, when days like this come... you can either be extremely mature and sensible... and bemoan the delays in travel, as well as the disruption to adult life... or you can recapture your youth, get out there, have snowball fights and/or build a snowman or some other effigy.

Guess which way I jumped?

I ran out the door taking a few tender and gentle steps on the new covering of snow, and then I ran and jumped for joy in the street. Now at 7.15, this is not something that is in my nature... but the snow had energised me and I ran amok with excitement.

I walked to the High Street to await my lift for work. I got bored so I decided to build a snowman outside the Post Office. I only got halfway up the torso before I had to leave. Once at work, it quickly became apparent that not many others would make it and most people left once official word had been given. I stuck it out till 4, trusting in Rob's judgement.

Sadly when I got home, no trace of my snowman remained. He'd been kicked in. I had hoped someone would have understood what I was doing and finished it off. Unfortunately though, it seems a lot of people are more destructive in their nature than they are creative. We need less of that sort of human.

Today I have the day off from work... I haven't ventured out yet... but it is still snowing.

Truly there is beauty in all God's seasons.

I Have Seen Him...

Christmas is well and truly coming.

I have encountered the jolly bearded one three times already.

I was typing on the computer when I heard the familiar sound of Christmas carols booming from a loudspeaker... and I lost all conscious thought as a long established childhood instinct took over. My heart stated racing and I frantically ran round looking for my wallet and my camera, the doorbell rang and I race to the door to be greeted by an elf. I made a donation and was given a dairy milk chocolate bar from Santa. You see, every year the local Round Table go round raising money for charity b y towing Santa round all the town streets on a trailer. There is something quite magical about it. For a few short minutes you are transported back through the mists of time until you are that little boy or girl, filled with the excitement of Christmas spirit again (not that I am saying adults cannot get excited... but it is a different kind of excitement).

When Santa had waved and raced past me at a blistering pace of 5 miles an hour, I found my mobile phone and sprinted up the other end of the road and captured him in all his glory:

It's kind of a fun photo because it almost looks as if he is magically teleporting into the street surrounded by a mystical aurora of light.

Earlier in the week I had received an anonymous tip off from an elf that... yes indeed, Santa was going to be visiting my best friend's street the night following his visit to me. Rob set the kids up for an early bath that evening and I stood on sentry duty, watching out for Santa from the back bedroom window.

Sure enough the telltale sound of Elton John's "Get into Christmas" came booming through the streets of Alcester, I sounded the alarm and Rob got his kids ready just in time to see Santa arrive in the close!

The following night, I was walking to the supermarket to get some food when Santa shot past me on his trailer... and he was clearly doing it for kicks. He was stood waving from his trailer as the utility truck that was towing him powered up the Birmingham Road suspiciously close the speed limit.... I hope he didn't get pulled over... what are the odds of Santa not being over the limit?

Actually I have to confess to having delusions about one day being Santa myself. Lets face it, I have the right name and I'm a Christian too which makes me a saint (saints in the correct context aren't men and women in fancy stained glassed windows with shimmering halos, they are just believers in Christ)! So therefore I already am Santa Claus because that is what his name is - Saint Nicholas! The only trouble with this is that I'm not fond of alcohol and I'm nowhere near rotund enough. Below is an image that might give you an idea of what I'd look like if I became Santa... do you think I'm up to the task?

If you don't pass this way again before Christmas... may you have a blessed one.

Celebrating Easter

Yes, well I still think it should be re-branded Resurrection Day - which sounds much cooler and is more relevant to what we celebrate.... nonetheless Happy Easter.

So how did I mark Easter here in the town of Alcester? It's been a long weekend:

On Thursday night I spent an hour or so, either side of midnight... quietly contemplating and meditating in my own church at Great Alne. It's a personal tradition of mine to do this somewhere. The way I see it, Jesus is my friend.... and 2,000 years ago all His friends deserted Him. I know I can't turn back the clock, but I like to pray for Him during the time He was alone in the Garden... yeah I know it sounds stupid but he died for my sins, offered me eternal life and is my friend and king... so I figure the least I could do is pray for Him during the time He had it rough (God is not bound by time, so I do not believe it matters that I pray after the event. It's a bit like in Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure - when they don't have time to travel back and change the past for their jailbreak... so they say they'll do it afterwards... and sure enough everything materialises as needed). Staying in the church also gave me time to write down a lot of my mental, spiritual and emotional baggage over the recent past... and it enabled me to pray through it and settle it with God. I did all this under the shadow of the cross which we had moved to the centre of the chancel. The church had also been decorated with articles that would help people meditate on the Passion of Christ. Things like a crown of thorns, a purple robe, a staff, a bowl of water, hammer and nails... you get the picture.

On Friday I took part in the annual March of Witness, where I learned that an old leader and friend of mine was severely ill with gall bladder complications - (please pray for him). I always like to bear the cross we carry on that march, on the final stretch to the Anglican church. It kind of feels right, seeing as I'm named after the place. We were joined this year by the BBC who had come to do a story on the daffodil cross (more later). If you live in the midlands, you may have noticed my conspicuous mug cropping up in one or two of the shots at the end of Midlands Today.

Later that evening I watched the live Manchester Passion. Some of the songs felt a little weird and not entirely accurate... but I was moved by the atmosphere and the acting. They had a giant cross procession taking place as the play was being acted simultaneously. This served as a reminder to me that... while history was being played out - the cross was ALWAYS coming. Before the nativity, before the exile, before Moses, before Abraham... yes even before Adam... I believe God was always intending to demonstrate his love for us in the most excellent way.

On Saturday I joined a party of individuals who were travelling to the hillside daffodil cross that was planted last year (and has bloomed in time for Easter once more). It's immense and watches over the passing traffic below - a constant reminder by it's shape, of Christ's sacrifice... and yet also a poignant reminder of his resurrection because of the new life in the daffodils. We listened to scripture, prayed and sung a few worship songs (I suggested When I Survey The Wondrous Cross) which I found very moving.

Last night I took part in the Easter "Fire" service. It's the Easter equivalent of Midnight Eucharist at Christmas... it's not as well represented, but it is very contemplative. I got soaked by the Rector who splashed everyone with baptismal water from the font. i breathed a sigh of relief at that point because last year there was an amorous couple in the churchyard... and it had echoed through the whole church - thankfully no repeat this year. At the end of the service we proceed out singing Latin stuff... but the best part is at midnight you come out of the church and yell "HE IS RISEN INDEED.... ALLELUIA!!!!" Now most Anglicans are quite sheepish and don't want to wake up the neighbours. not me. Oh yes... I went for it. The way I see it, every weekend the drunks yell all the time - either obscenities... or their undying love for a lamp-post.... so if people are prepared to put up with that, why shouldn't it be okay for us to do likewise?

Went home and got up in time for another service at my regular church. that about sums up my Easter so far.... now comes the chilling out that goes with the territory that is, the Bank Holiday.

I pray and trust your Easter was equally blessed. I've posted some photographs of the walk to the daffodil cross (you can see more pictures of it in one of my Easter blogs of last year).

Here is a link to a BBC story about the Daffodil Cross (but fortunately not the one with me in).

St. Nicholas Night

Tonight was St. Nicholas night in Alcester. The local Anglican church is named after St. Nicholas, and a new custom has arisen whereby a young boy is escorted down the High Street dressed as the Saint. There is much mirth... the stores are open late, soup kitchens and a plethora of fast foods are to be found in abundance. Santa gives out goodies to the kids in his grotto. Local bands and school orchestras play music... Morris Men dance in the street... ordinary folk dance in the street!

So who was St. Nicholas? We know him as Santa Claus (it doesn't take a rocket scientist to see how the name translates). You may have caught a programme on TV last year that said a lot about him. He was a bishop... a leader of the early Church who was based in Myra. He was persecuted for his beliefs by the Emperor Diocletian... and locked up in jail (he was... lucky). He eventually escaped and lived to see the Church become legalised. The reason we most associate him with giving gifts and being kind to children, is because of two stories. Nicholas was born to wealthy parents... but as a Christian he decided to use his wealth to help the poor and needy. We are told that he heard of a pauper whose three daughters were engaged to be married... but he couldn't afford the dowry payment to the grooms. Nicholas sneaked round the house at night and lobbed three bags of gold through the window. Another story tells of how he prophetically dreamed of an innkeeper murdering three children. Nicholas found the boys and prayed over them... returning them to life in the name of Jesus.

When I was born I had no name for several days. I am eternally grateful to St. Nicholas because if it hadn't been for the church giving me my name.... I probably would have been called Julian... and I would have been emotionally scarred for life (that name comes in for a lot of stick in these parts).

St. Nicholas Day is 6th December. He is supposed to be patron saint of the following:

against imprisonment; against robberies; against robbers; apothecaries; Apulia, Italy; bakers; Bari, Italy; barrel makers; boatmen; boot blacks; boys; brewers; brides; captives; children; coopers; dock workers; druggists; Duronia, Italy; fishermen; Fossalto, Italy; Greece; Greek Catholic Church in America; Greek Catholic Unionl grooms; judges; lawsuits lost unjustly; Limerick, Ireland; longshoremen; Lorraine; maidens; mariners; merchants; murderers; Naples, Italy; newlyweds; old maids; parish clerks; paupers; pawnbrokers; perfumeries; perfumers; pharmacists; pilgrims; poor people; Portsmouth (English City); prisoners; Russia; sailors; Sassari, Italy; scholars; schoolchildren; shoe shiners; Sicily; spinsters; students; thieves; travellers; University of Paris; unmarried girls; watermen.


If you want to know more about the man... you can read up on him here.

Theologically I don't believe in venerating specific "Saints". All Christians are saints. However, I'm no killjoy and tonight was a lot of fun... it's just important to recognise that in Christ, all are equal.

Hey... I just had a thought. My name is Nicholas... I'm a christian... therefore I'm a saint. I'd better stay off the mince pies because there's a good chance I'll be the next Santa!

I certainly wouldn't mind being the patron saint of unmarried girls!