Living Death at St Ps

Living Death at St Paul's

Sunday 10:30 am

Grateful for the lift given to me this morning, a mile is a long way to walk these days, I gladly entered the building. As we arrived a large white car proceeded before us, we waited patiently while the driver parked in the next space.  From the car a young blonde decanted and headed towards the church.  We men looked, muttered 'Hmmm...' quietly so his wife could not hear, and thought, this looks good.  I decided to make it my place to greet her.

However, Inside, while I obtained a glass of water to avoid drying up during the service, the young lady, and they are all young to me now, was greeted by Graham and Jenny on the doors in their friendly and efficient manner, and so was I when I walked through the door.  Having been greeted I turned to take my seat in the usual place.

Then it happened!

The blonde was sitting in my seat!

I gasped at Graham, ‘She’s in my seat!’

‘I said sit wherever you like, so she did,’ he replied grinning too happily for my liking.

'But that's MY seat!' I gasped quietly while a cold bead of sweat ran down my neck.  'I've sat there for nearly 10 years,' I muttered.  Graham sniggered somewhat too keenly for my liking, especially as his permanent seat at the back had been claimed already by Jenny.  He was not going to be homeless this morning.  'And you are not allowed to chuck her out either,' he ordered like the sergeant major he wished he was.  He wandered off to greet others while I stood staring into space.  I came ready for anything this morning, but not something as shocking as this!  She was in my seat!  Not only was she happily ensconced there, but all around people were greeting her while aiming more smirks in my direction.  Wars have been begun for less than this!  

Looking around the hall I noticed all the seats at the end of a row were taken. A very Anglican approach. The only empty seats were at the front. 

At the front! No-one sits at the front of an Anglican church, no-one! I began to gasp again.

Gordon however, stood alongside me offering condolences. ‘You could sit on one of the empty seats in the middle of the row,’ he offered somewhat fatuously. No-one chooses to sit in the middle, that is just not done, unless you are accompanying someone. I noticed his sneaky leer as he spoke, he too has his seat booked, though he sits in the middle because she has told him to, and that's that. 'Five empty seats at the front on the left,’ he said, his finger pointing in that direction.  The front!  I began to shake.  'Sit ant the front, and be near all the action,' he said slowly and with cruel intent.  Cold sweat was beginning to run down my neck by this time. My shaky knees were shaking, my trembling hands trembled, and Gordon asked if he should hold my glass before I washed the carpet. This I declined, mostly because my hand was gripping the tumbler hard and I feared I might break it in letting go. I also needed a wet blanket to hold onto at that moment.

I kept glaring at my seat, it had my name on it too! In fact, all the seats have my name on them, I scrawled it upon them one day while no-one was around, just in case.

The blonde did not move, it was not the done thing to throw her out, and people were beginning to gather. The shaking continued, cold beads continued to run down my neck, I stared hard at each seat, including my own now in colonial possession, and prayed, almost out loud.

Glory be!  Just then I saw an empty end seat, though it was on the second row from the front to the right.  This would have to do, Hallelujah! Sweating, I barged past the crowd being greeted by smirk and his wife, forced my way to the free seat, triumphantly grasped the chair, spread myself across the next one also, just in case someone joined me, a trick I learned while travelling on the London Underground all those years ago, and rested while the steam rose from my now, relaxed body.

How close was that? 

Long Weekend

It is the time of the year when the yellow flowers begin to announce themselves.  This brings joy to the bees and other beasties that will flock to them once they emerge from their cocoons.  These ones were improving a small grass area at the side of the pavement by reflecting the amazingly strong sun this morning.  As the white blossums begin to fade the yellow flowers appear alongside many other colourful wee buds.  This makes everyone much happier and the scowls around us hide an enjoyment we all share.

Naturally, this being the May Bank Holiday, the weather has already turned and cloud is covering us now.  Monday will feature rain and sunshine with occasional lighting bolts.  Just what you want on a Holiday Monday. 

In spite of the sun I managed to make communion this morning.  How nice to meet friends, share grumbles, be ridiculed and get a lift home.  I was somewhat tired, this became obvious as I found myself heading for slumber when the vicar was preaching.  I think we need to offer coffee before the service, not afterwards.  

For reasons unknown the press has ignored the results of the local elections for the most part.  No paper led with it, the tabloids ignored it, and the Tory owners remained in a huff in their non-dom status overseas.  I suspect communication between them and Keir will be on the rise, that the media will become stuffed full of lies, as already happens in Scotland, and Rishi may well be forced by the nazi part of his party to rush into an election.  Maybe this will do us all a favour and rid us of the Suella's of this world?

 

Spring to Kirk

 

A delightful blue sky greeted me as I tumbled out this morning.  I was able to dump the big coat and wrap up in a jacket for a change, though I felt the chill at first.  

How delightful is Spring?  My favourite season. 

 

 

The blossum has appeared, this always makes the world a better place.  The trees abound with these bright white petals, red ones just a few trees down also, and a cheerier disposition is given to the dog walkers who would rather remain indoors asleep.

'S. C.'  Samuel Courtauld.

 

On the way down I pass several houses built in the 'Arts & Crafts style of the late Victorian age.  These were created by the Courtauld's for some of their work force.  The mills produced masses of Black Crepe which became popular with Queen Victoria when Albert died, so the fashionable types jumped on the bandwagon and gave Courtauld a massive profit.  Such black crepe controlled the Funeral fashion market for years, and dying was popular at that time.  

This was a company that spread their wealth among the town, building schools, houses, churches and providing doctors and eventually a hospital.  I suspect this house, built at the crossroads was given to a very senior man indeed.  Either that or one of the lesser Courtauld's themselves.

I was tired, the brain asleep, and I had the job of offering the intercessions this morning at Kirk, a short prayer time for whatever came to mind.  As I approached late in the service to the podium I was wishing I had stayed at home!  

However, by including prayer for all those involved in various jobs conected to the running of the church I found friends.  One good way to create friends is to mention them publicly and ensure all must realise that such people are important!  

They are not ignored.  

Everyone else ignored me.  

Next time I will mention the rest...

Good Friday 2024

 

Good Friday:  Richards sermon on Palm Sunday appropriate for use here today. 

Messy Christmas

 

 

There was not one child in the premisis when I arrived this morning.  I dumped my Christmas Puddings (small balls of chocolate ones) among the food offerings being prepared.  I spoke to several people, gave out a card or two and took  my seat.  As always many a young lass came to speak to me, it happens regularly, and one the crowd dispersed I looked around and found the place full of kids!

Being a special kids oriented service the rear of the building was laid with tables of activities, all beyond me, and the kids were cutting, colouring, glueing, and so on happily.   

This went on for some time and then we were called to attention for the nativity part.

Naturally this followed the traditional manner, in spite of the readings we have done recently, and Mary and Joseph, two sisters, happily took their place, while a donkey, wise men, angels and one or two spare beings attended.  

All in all it went better than I expected and all appeared happy with the result.  Some men of note did agree that theological facts were taking a beating mind.  But a chocolate Christmas Pudding soon shut them up.

 

 

 

I was much taken by the obvious delight in this dad's face as he cuddled his new daughter.  Here was one happy man!  In spite of the noise around the babe never responded and concentrated on sleeping.  Mum was a happy competent lass also.  A jolly good Christmas Eve I say.

 

Carols!

An enjoyable Carol Service last night.  John did things a wee bit different from the normal routine and it worked well.  A smattering of the usual Christmas faces appeared, though many of ours found it too late and dark to walk this far.  

I particularly enjoyed the kids in front of me, one lass who clearly has been watching 'Sickly Come Dancing' of Saturday nights, attempted to dance through all the songs.  Her younger brothers were less enthusiastic re dancing.

But I was knackered.  

Today, a grey Monday, I intended to do little.  Having made it to Tesco before the crowds I hobbled up the stair and expected a day of leisure.  By 10 am I had been down the stairs twice more for the various postmen delivering parcels.  Happily, they were all for me!  Now I have a small pile in the corner awaiting me.  These however, make me feel guilty that I have not spent enough on others, some I cannot reach, and what I have sent out is nowhere good enough for those receiving, at least in my opinion.  Still, it's the mealy mouthed Scrooge like thought that counts, innit?

As has become my custom, I gave all the women yesterday a bar of chocolate, one of those more expensive types.  None were refused.  The men obtained a miniature of whisky, again, none were refused.  I got nothing in return but enjoyment at doing this.

Actually, one lass did give me a wee box of something, but only one.  Many cards have been going to- and-fro, along with coughs, sneezes and 'coming down with something,' comments.  We await developments.

I am left weary and scared to move towards the bed as they deliver at all hours these days.  Sunday, just after 4 pm a Royal Mail temp delivered a package for me.  What with the roadworks down the way and Amazon drivers habit of calling late there may yet be a ring on the bell tonight.  Me, I just want to stretch, and then lay about for a day or so, the little jobs that need done can wait.   

Sunday Kids

Sunday was quite good.  This in spite of yet another child baptism, which I disagree with, and a long service to boot.  However, we were all cheered by the  number of children, of various ages, who arrived with the well dressed visitors, almost none of whom knew what to expect.

Once again the front rows were sealed off for the family, once more the older ones knew how to behave, the younger desperate to get out the door.  Consideration from the teens and twenties for either the hosts or the very young couple was lacking.  We are getting used to this.  

However, I enjoyed the kids around us.  Well fed and cared for, the number of biscuits eaten aided this, and all of them happy, even the almost teenage group.  And the locals were all happy today.  Few visitors appeared interested in what went on, but we were willing to explain.  The locals here are good.

Sometimes I almost feel welcomed amongst them!

 

This comes to mind more and more.  The many indications that Suella will ban most protests increases, this means Scots protests will increase in spite of this, and all this to stop the Palestinian protests, because the friendly Israeli's are paying them, maybe?  She wants to stop charities giving tents to the homeless, in winter, and would like to get votes from the 'Daily mail' reader who supports her Nazi leanings.  Many of them would love to wear their 'Blackshirts' once again. 

The next election will be within a year, I am expecting an 'emergency situation' in which this is postponed and a 'National Government' takes over.

 

Monday, Twitter and Kirk

So I gave in!

I removed the 'offending' post, though only an AI machine was offended, and returned to the 'Twitter' fold.  At least for now.  I attempted to revisit my old site, which appears still to exist, yet it would not let me in.  Possibly still banned, or maybe the password changed.  Typical Tech problems.

I have looked at what is on offer today and found little of excitement.  Pictures from the Tory Conference in Manchester reveal empty seats indicating the bars are open early, or they are still sharing rooms with those who can 'progress' their careers.

Cabinet ministers are making promising sounds, Sunak apart as he never actually says anything, and the impression given is not encouraging for anyone outside of the Labour Party.

After much prayer I hobbled slowly, oh so slowly, down to the Kirk on Sunday.  Having breakfasted well, enough sweet coffee to last me till lunchtime, I made it.  I had to, I was reading from Ezekiel and had promised I was OK to be there.  

Today was communion, but also  a 3 yr old being baptised.  This meant some 40 relatives, non church goers, were in attendance.  It also meant a long morning, hence the coffee.

At one point the kids are ushered out, after the baptism bit, and then the adults, minus most women who ran for the door also to avoid the sermon, that is the men, were left to endure the morning.  None were keen.

As I read the Ezekiel bit I could see lots of blank faces in front of me.  They were not interested, failed to grasp what was going on, and reflected the men of today.  The good thing is there is no pretence to  like what is happening as would have been the case 50 years ago, they were just not into it.  This reflects the difficulty in getting people to understand what God is all about.  The actual words I used I realised later were probably not opening their minds.  The words were a bit old-fashioned, I ought to have sought a different versions for a better, more modern rendering.  Those words spoke to me 50 years ago, but they may not speak to men today.

The girls, hiding with the kids, were also getting a similar message, and probably heard it better out there.  We look to see what may happen as we pray for the relatives.

Mind you, I am not one for kids baptism, I se no justification for this.  To me, you must be old enough to understand what you are doing, toddlers cannot grasp this, especially when all they wish to do is run around the hall like a daft one!  We let him do this.  I think the reason for kids baptism, or christening, is based on the story of the Philippian Jailer. 

Acts 16:16 Once when we were going to the place of prayer, we were met by a female slave who had a spirit by which she predicted the future. She earned a great deal of money for her owners by fortune-telling. 17 She followed Paul and the rest of us, shouting, ‘These men are servants of the Most High God, who are telling you the way to be saved.’ 18 She kept this up for many days. Finally Paul became so annoyed that he turned round and said to the spirit, ‘In the name of Jesus Christ I command you to come out of her!’ At that moment the spirit left her.

19 When her owners realised that their hope of making money was gone, they seized Paul and Silas and dragged them into the market-place to face the authorities. 20 They brought them before the magistrates and said, ‘These men are Jews, and are throwing our city into an uproar 21by advocating customs unlawful for us Romans to accept or practise.’

22 The crowd joined in the attack against Paul and Silas, and the magistrates ordered them to be stripped and beaten with rods. 23 After they had been severely flogged, they were thrown into prison, and the jailer was commanded to guard them carefully. 24 When he received these orders, he put them in the inner cell and fastened their feet in the stocks.

25 About midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the other prisoners were listening to them. 26 Suddenly there was such a violent earthquake that the foundations of the prison were shaken. At once all the prison doors flew open, and everyone’s chains came loose. 27 The jailer woke up, and when he saw the prison doors open, he drew his sword and was about to kill himself because he thought the prisoners had escaped. 28 But Paul shouted, ‘Don’t harm yourself! We are all here!’

29 The jailer called for lights, rushed in and fell trembling before Paul and Silas. 30 He then brought them out and asked, ‘Sirs, what must I do to be saved?’

31 They replied, ‘Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved – you and your household.’ 32 Then they spoke the word of the Lord to him and to all the others in his house. 33 At that hour of the night the jailer took them and washed their wounds; then immediately he and all his household were baptised. 34 The jailer brought them into his house and set a meal before them; he was filled with joy because he had come to believe in God – he and his whole household.

It is the phrase: 'He and his whole household.'  That some say children can be 'Christened' or 'Baptised.'   But where are children mentioned?  Philippi was a 'Roman' town.  That is, to offer a pension to his army Augustus, once he had defeated Mark Anthony, threw everyone out of the town and offered the facilities to those of his men who had retired, or were disabled, from service.  After 16 - 20 years they were given a Wine Bar, or fats food place, a shop or whatever, as their pension.  By Pauls time the population was therefore sons and grandsons of Roman soldiers, and many had arrived in the years following the original men, and therefore it is likely the jailer could have been an ex-soldier.

If I am correct, and occasionally I am, this jailer, a tough man indeed, may have been in his 40s at least, he probably was in his 50s and had sons and slaves working with him.  Jails are not places for wimps like me to run, especially in Roman towns.  So I suspect any child the jailer had was at least an adolescent, not a child.

I note John Calvin disagrees with me, but you remember he was French!

Anyway, I was knackered after the day and glad of a lift home.  Of course all the dishes were in the sink, nothing easy was for lunch, so cheese sandwich on stale bread had to do until I could be bothered washing up.  Where is that maidservant?  Still knackered today, but well over the worst and looking for the cough to go, which it must eventually.

David Roberts - Pyramids of Giza

Sabbath Journey

Somewhat reluctantly I downed a rather too strong coffee and limped off to the Kirk.  Several things made me hesitant, the threatening rain which was gathering as I walked, the aches as I walked,and being an 'All Together' service I hesitated to attend, most remain at home on these days.  This service is run by the youth leaders, I always wish them well, but sometimes we have to grin and bear it.  

I slogged on as the rain spat at me, or possibly someone from my past in a passing vehicle did.  Encountering two woolly sheep like dogs (small Chows?) I spoke to them and they were more keen than the female owner to speak to me.  They are lovely looking dogs, and she was alright also. 

Entering the building I was met by one of the best men, the best ones are those who allow me to get in, take off my coat, find a half pint off water and let me sit sipping this while doing breathing exercises to recover from the walk.  The bad ones come over and talk.

Several came today!

As I scribble this I am reminded of how lovely some of these people are.  Especially when considering theor situations and problems, often serious difficulties.  One I spoke to had just returned from a stay in the NHS hotels.  He could not tell us much about it as the first he knew he was waking up with a tube in his mouth and nurses all around.  Clearly God has been good to him, the consultant the next day was surprised he was still alive!    

Being led by the leaders they filled the day with Five songs, FIVE!  This means, along with the readings, and other bits, we bounce up and down almost as if we are in a gym somewhere.  I remained seated throughout.  

The service went through its routine, including an amatuer short drama which made me annoyed.  Annoyed that I had left my phone behind and I could have been doing something useful while that was on.  

We made it through, Paul reminding us of the love God has for us, and is always with us.  How nice that is to hear, especially for those who have been through tough times.  We even had evdence for this in front of us, via the NHS.

And life got even better as the day wore on.  A lift home, a poor dinner, the fridge is empty, but at least in the evening Rangers got beat!  I realise this means Aberdeen are now five points ahead of us, but five games to go anything can happen and it is always good to see the old firm lose!

Now, it is bed, emails, whisky cocoa and a good nights sleep.

New Years Day, 2023

 

The new year started with a damp saunter down to the Kirk.  The clouds did their best to hinder the sun brightening the morn.  Few were out this early.  A couple of dog walkers were dragged along by eager pooches, a car passed now and again, and a patrol car containing two sleepy officers wended its way down the road hoping everyone would stay quiet, at least until they were awake.  

Many were missing today from church, family gatherings, the cold bug, and left overs from Christmas keeping people inside.  A lot of old women will not come out when the weather is dodgy either.  Still, we managed to murder a couple of songs, pass our bugs onto one another, discover how many had fallen down or been manhandled by the kids or dogs over Christmas, and made our way home rejoicing, sort off.

I failed to 'see in' the new year last night, I was asleep by 11 pm, and even the fireworks from those who ought to know better did not trouble me much.  On YouTube someone walked about Edinburgh at night, offering the live view of the rain drenched city.  People massed about, glittering lights glittered, and wet streets offered an opportunity to break a leg or two.  The thought of mixing with crowds was far indeed from my mind as I watched.  I was glad to be sitting here wearying myself watching others.  

It is now when I come to understand the attitudes of the older generation I knew when young.  Why is it we understand things long after the time when we require to understand things?  And why do young folks have all the energy when people like us, over 35, need the energy more than they do?   

Life can be so unfair!

At this time people tend to either look back or look forward, to my mind it makes no difference.  Whether it is the 1st day of January or the middle of summer life, will go on as it is.  There will be hard times, tragedies, sad occasions.  There will also be good times, excitement, joy and happiness, often.  Just as life normally offers.  

You go into the year trusting yourself, and that has seen you through so far hasn't it?  I go trusting Jesus, well usually, knowing he will always be there, usually gnashing his teeth and asking "Why did you do that?"  He has been leading me for 50 years or so and I cannot fault him, though I have let him down often.  He is our only hope, in good times and in bad ones.  He never fails.

 

I hope you have a 'Happy New Year' indeed.

 

Wet Sabbath

 

In spite of the rain I marched of to Kirk this morning, full of joy, anticipation and cheese omelette.

Not necessarily in that order.

Dodging puddles on the rollercoaster pavements, keeping close to the wall when passing large puddle on the road, always a target for a special type of driver, and ensuring I did not trip up and fall flat on my face I made it well on time.

The need to arrive early is to ensure my seat is not taken by some nasty person who does not follow the church rules.  As we had a joint service with the other half of what they call 'our benefice' this meant many would arrive not knowing the rules.  Indeed, arrive some did, but as one man indicated "Our seats are safe.  Being Anglican types from one of the 'dressing up' churches, they will all sit at the back." As indeed they did.  Latecomers were seen to panic as they might have to sit on the empty seats towards the front, some taken by our people, and also the thought of sitting beside one of us upsets them.  I marked my seat on arrival with my damp jacket, and the one next to me just to be sure with my cap.  No one asked for them.  

The 'other place' is indeed a 'dressing up' church.  Robes aplenty for the vicar (who now runs two churches to save the Bishop money), candles, an icon, organ music and heavy hymn books, while following a booklet led liturgy.  'Our place' is a much more 'informal formality,' which some find disconcerting.  Being what is referred to as a 'Low church,' many of us have more 'reformed' type backgrounds, Baptist etc, and are loath to attend the 'High Church,' with its near Catholic approach.

I often refer to them as a 'papist outlet' but I am not sure the vicar agrees.  He appears to like that sort of thing.  Having met the Bishop, and upset him regarding his approach to the gay takeover, I have an idea he also likes the parades, bells, liturgy and pomp of the 'other place' and considers it more worthy than us.  I think we may take the attitude that this is just 'too bad.'

Anyway, we went quickly through the meeting, the songs were good, the 'other place' people have a choir and some of them can sing well, our lass praying scrambled her way through, John spoke with direct biblical truth, which may have confused some, and an Anglican communion was observed.

The we drank coffee to wake us up, some gossiped, I met up with those I have not seen for a while as I was off, all the young women asked for me, as you would expect, and I got a lift home to eat and sleep it off.  

Now I plough through the days football before going back to bed again.  That extra hour from turning back the clocks was an hour short I say! 

     

Agape Love

 

I sweltered down to the kirk this morning, the weather not something I am used to.  It was good to spend a couple of hours not confronted with lying MPs trying to convince the Tory voter that they have 'Integrity, seek truth, and will pull the nation together.'  

All lies.  

One favourite is Rich Sunak telling us how he will sort out the economy, forgetting that he has been Chancellor for three years.  Paying his and his wife's taxes would have done that already.  Mourdant, (who she?) has made a video featuring a great many famous people.  Now almost all want to be removed from the video and are asking why she did not seek permission to use their image, music, whatever.  Hunt, the one time hated Health Secretary, offers 'truth,' which the NHS staff are finding laughable.  

Braverman, the inept Attorney General has gathered mostly weirdo's to her gate, as normal people keep indicating she was not fit for the job.  She wishes to leave the ECHR as this will set the UK 'free.'  However, the ECHR is part of the 'Good Friday Agreement,' the Scots/Welsh parliament agreements,' and she ought to have known this.  She is the 'top lawyer!

More lies and untruths from the hopefuls to come.

Jings!  I have just read Priti Patel has been asked by several MPs to stand!

Patel!  How low can they go? 

The sun shone inside the Kirk however, those late 1950s style church architects  always had light in mind so large windows were to be found.  Worship was plentiful, even if the words would not appear on the screen.  And we made it through without serious mishap, though I managed to offend three this week.  

I do begin to wonder sometimes is offering coffee before the service might be better rather than afterwards?  Maybe it was just me not concentrating at that hour? 

"Love one another," he said.  

This is a good idea.  However, some think this means 'feeling love' towards others.  This cannot happen.  Hunger, tiredness, sickness, and those strange up and down moods that possess most of us do not enable such feelings at all times.  Feeling warm inside when a pretty girl approaches is not always er, 'love.'  And when a man approaches it is often the opposite.  However, 'Love' means accepting them as they are and 'acting towards them' as we ought.  No mother 'loves' her child at three in the morning when he is playing soldiers in the living room, yet they 'love' their child, though the feelings may say different.

'Love' is an action, not a feeling.

The problem is the English language.  This, as you know, is inadequate.  Greek, in which the New Testament was written, had four words for love, the one used in scripture is 'Agape.'  This may be better as 'brotherly love' in my view.  The action we see from people daily.  For instance, someone drops something, another picks it up and returns it to them, a person asks directions and is shown where to go, someone without enough cash in a supermarket finds another willing to pay for them, all these are 'agape' love.  Usually for people we do not know.  No feelings involved, possible loss, time wasted, but all 'agape' love.  

Of course, it sounds easy but it is always so hard to do at the time, our feeling may go against it.

Exciting Celebration...

I went up high to see how the Queen's celebrations were going.  Clearly the fun and frolics were well under way.  Possibly others were partying elsewhere. Only I and two adolescent girls were on the roof, until the saw me, stopped whatever they should not have been doing, and left, clearly when this car park is empty people are elsewhere.  Many shops were open, the Bank Holiday spirit not affecting the bosses of retail outlets it appears.  Possibly they are well paid, possibly double time, possibly not.  

Nothing else happened

Apart from annoying the gun lobby on Twitter, one or two gay folks left over from yesterday, and watching a poor football match, there has been nothing much to do.  I read a chapter of a book, more of that soon, and ate too much to use up leftovers. 

Not much of a bank holiday is it?

The queen very sensibly remained indoors during the long sombre service from St Paul's.  The usual dressed up royals and hangers on, the Prime Minister and temporary wife Booed quite clearly coming and going.  Even Thatcher did not get that sort of reception at such events.  It was made even better when Boris had to read the Lesson.

Philippians 4. "Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! 5 Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. 6 Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. 7 And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

8 Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. 9 Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you."

'Peace, true, noble, lovely, right, pure, excellent, praiseworthy....Boris read these words?  

May the Spirit bring them home to him. 

Tomorrow will suit this queen better, she can sit and watch a horse race on the widescreen telly and lose some of her millions at her favourite Betting shop.  She of course never places a bet, one of the Ladies in waiting do that for her.  She rips up her own tickets when they lose however.  

When will all this excitement end...?

An Hour at the Cross

 

As normal on Good Friday we spent 'An Hour at the Cross' at St Paul's at 2 pm, this afternoon.  With an 'altogether 'service this morning, and a (short) walk of witness to the town centre for a short praise gathering in the sunshine, many of our lot did not appear this afternoon.  The bright sunshine took those with kids away, tiredness removed others, while I avoided the morning meeting so as to be at the 2 pm one, which is more important.

The last couple of occasions different people took turns to read a portion of scripture, the next read a 'reflecion,' then a 'response,' then a 'prayer.'  This year it was simplified and three persons only took these parts while we responded.

I have always liked such services as they require time for positive reflection, something normal church services do not allow.  It is as if we must get through it all quickly, no time to stop and consider.  Indeed, one man told me how he often stops during prayer but many in the congregation dislike this.  Possibly thinking is bad for them?  Today those who came clearly cogitated as we went through the booklet printed for this purpose.  Scanners and copiers are so useful in churches!  After an hour considering Jesus' betrayal, arrest, beatings, trial, opposition, and yet not one word justifying himself uttered.  Then there was his condemnation by the cheif priests, with finally Pilates 'passing the buck' by 'washing his hands,' and finally the crucifixion, not for his wrongdoing, but for mine and yours.

This is the Love of God.  

His love for people like ourselves who recognise how our natures are corrupt, just like everybody else's.  How God longs to love us, how he cried out to his people throughout the Old Testament, and how he cries out to each of us again today, no matter how bad.  Indeed even the Putin's off this world can be forgiven, if they turn to God.  Recognising our nature we recognise also that this death of Jesus was on our behalf, not his.  Death, and that on a cross, not something he wanted to undergo, instead it was something he went through out of love for us and his Father that he was willing to endure, and by this opened a way for forgiveness, new life with the Living God, and the hope of eternal life to come, beginning now!

Yes, in spite of the cooker dying while I made use of it, in spite of a possible new neighbour this week, in spite of gas and electric charges, in spite of my many failures, in spite of all this Jesus, God in human flesh, went to the cross for me and you.  So, not everything is as bad as it appears.

 

 

St Paul's sermon 13th February 22

First Sabbath of the year

The Kirk was almost empty this morning, whether this was due to people being away or the result of too much New Year celebrations was not made clear.  I was however, given a lift home, and home before noon is always a good thing.  It would have been better to have someone make lunch for me and then do the ironing but alas that did not happen.  So make do and mend and wonder "What was that I ate?" had to do.  

First sermon of the year is always tricky.  The church has to be reminded to set its heart on Jesus, not the world, to read the book, study the book, pray without ceasing and love one another.  This was not helped one year a long time ago when the pastor turned and looked in my direction as he urged us to "Move on with no more sin and (as he looked at me) no more spiritual jerks."  Quite how neither of us responded amazes me yet.   

Once home I discovered Championship football was on today.  This meant I could use PPV TV and watch Arbroath play Inverness.  This was welcomed I must say, and so £13 was soon paid and I waited by nodding off, until the game began.  This was great fun until 10 minutes in the server failed.  It took 15 mins at least before an alternative picture was found.  Apparently the server did not expect a thousand people to log in as usually only a couple of hundered do this at Arbroath.  However, government restrictions limiting the crowd to 500 meant many logged on and all collapsed.  'Vimeo,' for it was run via them, failed to impress many of the Angus hordes!  

In the end however I enjoyed the poor game played in high wind and was really too tired to care about much else.  I have struggled to wake in the mornings and look forward to a lie in tomorrow. 

 

Sunday Spiel

A quite good day today.

I began the day by doing a bit of Trolling.  I went over to the Hibernian FC site on Twitter where they were parading the usual guff before todays Edinburgh football derby against the Heart of Midlothian, I thought I would troll.

Innocently I posted the Historical facts, all the important ones.

 

Since 1875.  651 Derbies.
Heart of Midlothian won: 286  Hibs 206 Draws 153
6 Abandonded when Hibs went homs in a huff.
Goals: Heart of Midlothian 1100  Hibs 925.

Natural order.

'Natural Order' is a term also used to troll Hibbys.  The number of games has obviously increased by one.  It goes without saying that soon I was inveloped by a crowd of Leith citizens wearing an affronted, sullen and resentful countenance.  I answered all their er, questions, by repeating the statistics for them, some found these unpalatable it appears.  

This did make me laugh.

By the time it came to leave for church I was heading towards a record response for a tweet.  Indeed, many happy Heart of Midlothian individuals also joined me in offering good wishes to the lower orders, but again the response was a wee bit disappointing.

I left them to it.     

With the big game kicking off at noon I wished to leave the church in good time to walk home.  As expected the meeting was slow.  A presentation to the vicar, a celebration for a couples 50th anniversary, then readings, and a sermon, longer than required I say (almost 25 minutes) followed by prayers, followed by slow communion.  After this I looked to the clock, but no, the kids then had something to say, the clock said 'too bad' and I slipped out and hobbled, faster than usual, up the road arriving with two minutes to spare before Kick Off.  Phew!

 

 

 

The great hope I had was that the Heart of Midlothian was easily deal with the foul few from the eastern side.  Had we lost it would not have been a happy time for me on Twitter, a few hundred 'BLOCK' cases might have been called for.  As it is just the residue remains after a 0-0 draw, the fault of a ref who did not help us.  Just why he is a referee I have never understood, he does not know the Laws, does not know the game, and just does not know.  I suspect he is one who votes Conservative.

Anyway, while grabbing poor nourishment for a Sunday I attempted to watch two other games, both English.  However, these mean little and the emotions of a derby day means English football is worthless.

 

Pikrepo

 

So, the day done I must away and attempt to work my way through the magazine pile that is awaiting my attention.  So much to read, magazines and books as well as online stuff, I just have not got the time.  Of course, I could just be getting slow...