Today, like a lot of Methodist Ministers it seems, is my day off. But how best to use it?
The difficulty is that most of the day is spent on my own: kid's at school, wife's at work and then Uni, what am I to do? As home is also my office, I'm effectively spending my day off at work - unless I choose to go out somewhere, but that's not much fun on my own. And then there's the old "I'm sorry to ring you in your day off, but...", or worse still "I knew you'd be in, because it's your day off." Staying at home leaves you open to finding work to do, just to give yourself something to do.
The Methodist Church recognises this problem: it does say in its guidelines on Holidays that we should take "A minimum break of 24 hours each week, without structured work and if possible away from the manse." Of course that's not always easy, nor is it always cost-effective.
I notice that some of my colleagues have used today to visit the gym, visit B&Q, lunch wit friends, or simply to 'relax' - however they find to do that.
So, how have I used my 'sabbath' so far today? Breakfast & prayers, Facebook, a drive out to Meadowhall Shopping Centre (bought a couple of CDs, but didn't find the magazine I was looking for) and back, a walk into town (still no sign of the magazine), lunch with my wife, bus home, rip new CDs to iPod, listen to some of my new music and write this blog post. I plan to read for a while, enjoy a home-cooked lasagna with my wife, and maybe watch some TV or a film later. Not all that exciting, but I've managed some physical exercise, some mental stimulation and some space for God, so all in all body, mind and Spirit have had their share of my free time today. Hopefully that will help to sustain me, as a human being, as a child of God and as a Minister of God's church.
Friday, 28 January 2011
Thursday, 27 January 2011
The Waiting Game
There's been a lot of talk recently about the NHS, after Government proposals to 'save it' from collapse, or whatever rhetoric and hyperbole they were using this time. I was just reminded of this, as I've returned from spending the afternoon in the Endoscopy Suite of the Royal Hallamshire Hospital in Sheffield.
Usually my visits to hospital are brief, and are not normally on my own behalf: but today I was there as a out-patient. I've been suffering with acute abdominal pains for a number of months now, and tests still haven't ascertained the cause, so my GP referred me to the Hallamshire for a Gastroscopy.
It's not the most pleasant of procedures, but then I knew that before I went in today: I'd had a similar examination about 12 years ago, for similar symptoms, so it wasn't quite the mystery that it could have been. Though I must confess to feeling slightly apprehensive when a young man about half my age came out, saying it was 'possibly the worst experience of my life so far.' As it was, everything went OK: I'm now waiting for the result of a small biopsy that was taken during the investigation (and I've always said, I'd rather have a biopsy than an autopsy!). It was uncomfortable, but nothing I couldn't handle - and I've had a lot worse experiences than that in my life (I've had to chair Church Councils for goodness' sake!).
What did bother me, though, was the fact that, although my appointment was for 14:45, I wasn't actually seen until 16:05. I didn't mind too much waiting - I'd brought a book with me - but wouldn't it avoid so much tension and anxiety if the appointment time better fitted the actual time of the procedure? Surely they must know how long the preparation takes, and the paperwork, and can factor that in to the times they give for appointments. Then those who aren't as tolerant as me with waiting around might have a less jaundiced view of that great institution, The National Health Service.
Usually my visits to hospital are brief, and are not normally on my own behalf: but today I was there as a out-patient. I've been suffering with acute abdominal pains for a number of months now, and tests still haven't ascertained the cause, so my GP referred me to the Hallamshire for a Gastroscopy.
It's not the most pleasant of procedures, but then I knew that before I went in today: I'd had a similar examination about 12 years ago, for similar symptoms, so it wasn't quite the mystery that it could have been. Though I must confess to feeling slightly apprehensive when a young man about half my age came out, saying it was 'possibly the worst experience of my life so far.' As it was, everything went OK: I'm now waiting for the result of a small biopsy that was taken during the investigation (and I've always said, I'd rather have a biopsy than an autopsy!). It was uncomfortable, but nothing I couldn't handle - and I've had a lot worse experiences than that in my life (I've had to chair Church Councils for goodness' sake!).
What did bother me, though, was the fact that, although my appointment was for 14:45, I wasn't actually seen until 16:05. I didn't mind too much waiting - I'd brought a book with me - but wouldn't it avoid so much tension and anxiety if the appointment time better fitted the actual time of the procedure? Surely they must know how long the preparation takes, and the paperwork, and can factor that in to the times they give for appointments. Then those who aren't as tolerant as me with waiting around might have a less jaundiced view of that great institution, The National Health Service.
Wednesday, 26 January 2011
Prayers being answered
I've been thinking quite a lot recently about answers to prayer. I wrote earlier this week about the ways in which we are sometimes the answers to our own prayers (see An Answer to Our Own Prayers), but I was reflecting during and after a meeting last night, about recognising answers to prayers when they come.
I shared the story from Acts 12 where Peter is arrested, the church gathers to pray for his release, he is released and hurries to the house where the church are gathered for prayer. He is greeted with amazement at the door by one of the servants, but she is ridiculed by the faithful for saying that Peter is outside (and their prayers have been answered). Eventually they can't put up with the incessant banging on the door, and finally let him in. And, it says, "They were astonished."
For many months now, if not years, we have been praying for guidance for our future direction at Wesley Hall, one of the churches I have responsibility for in Sheffield. We are blessed with a 103 year-old building that was built to seat 1,000, was re-modelled in the 1990s to house around 200, and now caters for about 60. We are widely used by the local community, and by the Sheffield Korean Church, yet struggle to maintain the premises with the material resources we have. A significant proportion of the congregation are retired, and those who are still in work - the younger families - are feeling the burden of taking on increasing responsibility in the church on top of work and family commitments. The building is feeling her age, and we need to do significant work on the roof to make it water-tight.
Prayers have revolved around what our role is in the 21st century; whether we have a role in the life of the community we are part of (there is a huge Anglican/ Baptist Church - St Thomas Crookes - just next door), and if so, how we can serve them and serve God effectively and uniquely. Or, in a nut-shell: "What is our mission at Wesley Hall?"
The answers have started to come - slowly, but increasingly evident. An estimate for repairing the roof has come in at about half the cost we'd feared it would be; the Circuit have given us the services of a Mission Enabler for the year to provide impetus for mission ventures; we are exploring innovative ways in which we might administer the building, and market its potential as a venue for conferences, exhibitions & meetings; our lettings income has almost doubled in the last 3 years, as more people make use of our facilities; we are launching "Messy Church" later this Spring, to reach out to families and younger children; we are hosting a major art exhibition over Lent...
All these, I believe, have come about because God's people at Wesley Hall have consciously and purposefully come together to seek God's will for us as His people (see Which Way Now?). Our prayers are beginning to be answered: there is a knocking at the door, and many of us are beginning to believe that what we have sought from God is being provided. And I'm sure there's more to come!
I shared the story from Acts 12 where Peter is arrested, the church gathers to pray for his release, he is released and hurries to the house where the church are gathered for prayer. He is greeted with amazement at the door by one of the servants, but she is ridiculed by the faithful for saying that Peter is outside (and their prayers have been answered). Eventually they can't put up with the incessant banging on the door, and finally let him in. And, it says, "They were astonished."
For many months now, if not years, we have been praying for guidance for our future direction at Wesley Hall, one of the churches I have responsibility for in Sheffield. We are blessed with a 103 year-old building that was built to seat 1,000, was re-modelled in the 1990s to house around 200, and now caters for about 60. We are widely used by the local community, and by the Sheffield Korean Church, yet struggle to maintain the premises with the material resources we have. A significant proportion of the congregation are retired, and those who are still in work - the younger families - are feeling the burden of taking on increasing responsibility in the church on top of work and family commitments. The building is feeling her age, and we need to do significant work on the roof to make it water-tight.
Prayers have revolved around what our role is in the 21st century; whether we have a role in the life of the community we are part of (there is a huge Anglican/ Baptist Church - St Thomas Crookes - just next door), and if so, how we can serve them and serve God effectively and uniquely. Or, in a nut-shell: "What is our mission at Wesley Hall?"
The answers have started to come - slowly, but increasingly evident. An estimate for repairing the roof has come in at about half the cost we'd feared it would be; the Circuit have given us the services of a Mission Enabler for the year to provide impetus for mission ventures; we are exploring innovative ways in which we might administer the building, and market its potential as a venue for conferences, exhibitions & meetings; our lettings income has almost doubled in the last 3 years, as more people make use of our facilities; we are launching "Messy Church" later this Spring, to reach out to families and younger children; we are hosting a major art exhibition over Lent...
All these, I believe, have come about because God's people at Wesley Hall have consciously and purposefully come together to seek God's will for us as His people (see Which Way Now?). Our prayers are beginning to be answered: there is a knocking at the door, and many of us are beginning to believe that what we have sought from God is being provided. And I'm sure there's more to come!
Tuesday, 25 January 2011
The Immortal Memory
I was in the butchers this morning, searching for a haggis for tea tonight. Sadly there were none to be had in Crookes (though we did manage to hunt one down elsewhere in Sheffield, where they are bred in captivity rather than allowed to roam free as they do in Scotland. I know that's true because a Methodist minister told me, and they never tell lies!): in fact the butcher seemed unaware of the significance of today, as he said "You're the second person this morning to ask for one - I don't know why."
The reason, of course, is that today, 25th January, is the birthday of Robbie Burns, Scotland's national poet, who will be commemorated across the world by expat Scots and others tonight with a traditional Burns Supper. I was first introduced to this fine feast when I was serving as minister in Wetherby, West Yorkshire, a town that seemed to have a relatively large Scots presence. We met for our celebrations one year in the Parish rooms (the Methodist Hall, where most of us belonged, couldn't be used due to their rules on the consumption of alcohol.) and shared Scotch Broth, followed by Haggis, neeps & tatties. All of this was liberally washed down with a selection of Scotland's finest export, single malt whisky (hence we couldn't use the Chapel). Pudding consisted of a delightful concoction know as 'Flummery', which was made of whisky, oats, whisky, cream and whisky.
Scotland may be unique in celebrating their national bard in such a big way. But then Burns was a unique figure, with an equally unique repertoire among his poems. Very few poets wrote about a louse on the head of a fine lady in church, giving us the lines: "O wad some Power the giftie gie us/ to see oursels as ithers see us." Not many evoked that "wee, sleeket, cowran, timrous beastie" the mouse in such warm words. And I don't know of any national poet who eulogised a sausage in quite the way Burns did.
Burns' work will live on, and tonight , as I tuck in to my Haggis, neaps & tatties (and later enjoy a wee dram - I do have a meeting tonight) I will remember him, his words (and his philandering) with a warm smile as I toast 'The Immortal Memory!'
The reason, of course, is that today, 25th January, is the birthday of Robbie Burns, Scotland's national poet, who will be commemorated across the world by expat Scots and others tonight with a traditional Burns Supper. I was first introduced to this fine feast when I was serving as minister in Wetherby, West Yorkshire, a town that seemed to have a relatively large Scots presence. We met for our celebrations one year in the Parish rooms (the Methodist Hall, where most of us belonged, couldn't be used due to their rules on the consumption of alcohol.) and shared Scotch Broth, followed by Haggis, neeps & tatties. All of this was liberally washed down with a selection of Scotland's finest export, single malt whisky (hence we couldn't use the Chapel). Pudding consisted of a delightful concoction know as 'Flummery', which was made of whisky, oats, whisky, cream and whisky.
Scotland may be unique in celebrating their national bard in such a big way. But then Burns was a unique figure, with an equally unique repertoire among his poems. Very few poets wrote about a louse on the head of a fine lady in church, giving us the lines: "O wad some Power the giftie gie us/ to see oursels as ithers see us." Not many evoked that "wee, sleeket, cowran, timrous beastie" the mouse in such warm words. And I don't know of any national poet who eulogised a sausage in quite the way Burns did.
"Fair fa' your honest, sonsie faceI honestly can't see Shakespeare being quite so lyrical about Roast Beef & Yorkshire Pud, or Dylan Thomas speaking so highly of the Leek. Yet these words in praise of the haggis will be recited with full emotion this night, as the sgian-dubh is thrust into the steaming sausage. Oh that we English could be so passionate about our food!
Great Chieftain o' the puddin-race!
Aboon them a' ye tak your place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm.
Weel are ye wordy o' a grace
As lang's my arm."
Burns' work will live on, and tonight , as I tuck in to my Haggis, neaps & tatties (and later enjoy a wee dram - I do have a meeting tonight) I will remember him, his words (and his philandering) with a warm smile as I toast 'The Immortal Memory!'
Monday, 24 January 2011
Musical (Re)discoveries
I've just been reviewing my iTunes catalogue, and have discovered that in 2010 I added 127 albums to my collection; 1,227 songs by 56 different artists. Some of these were albums that I already owned on vinyl, and that I either re-bought digitally or (thanks to a wonderful birthday present of a USB turntable) converted from vinyl. That way I was able to listen again to music from Brand X, Peter Gabriel, Genesis, Steve Hackett, Stephen Stills, Yes & Neil Young.
There were also albums that I'd never got round to buying when I was younger, by Be Bop Deluxe, Blind Faith, David Bowie, Kate Bush, John Coltrane, Jethro Tull, Marillion, Radiohead, Rush, Tom Waits & Wally: music that I'd listened to then and re-discovered - after 35 years or more in some cases.
Then there was the music that I discovered for the first time: some of it old, some of it new. Music by Anathema, Astra, Big Big Train, Dee Expus, Deluge Grander, Ephemeral Sun, Gazpacho, IQ, Jaga Jazzist, Kaipa, Karmakanic, Kinetic Element, The Lens, Mostly Autumn, National Health, Martin Orford, Phideaux, The Reasoning, Simon Says, Spock's Beard, Roine Stolt, Thieves' Kitchen, Tinyfish, Unitopia, Vienna Circle & Willowglass. It has been a joy to listen to these new (to me) artists, to discover that Progressive music is alive and well in the new millennium - and seemingly doing very well in Scandinavia!
The turn of a year is a time for taking stock, and at this time of year the music press publish their polls of 'The Best' of the last year. So, if you're interested, what have been my favourite albums of 2010? Well, in no particular order other than alphabetic by group, my Top 10 would have to be:
I hope that 2011 will be another year of discovery, and rediscovery, for us all.
There were also albums that I'd never got round to buying when I was younger, by Be Bop Deluxe, Blind Faith, David Bowie, Kate Bush, John Coltrane, Jethro Tull, Marillion, Radiohead, Rush, Tom Waits & Wally: music that I'd listened to then and re-discovered - after 35 years or more in some cases.
Then there was the music that I discovered for the first time: some of it old, some of it new. Music by Anathema, Astra, Big Big Train, Dee Expus, Deluge Grander, Ephemeral Sun, Gazpacho, IQ, Jaga Jazzist, Kaipa, Karmakanic, Kinetic Element, The Lens, Mostly Autumn, National Health, Martin Orford, Phideaux, The Reasoning, Simon Says, Spock's Beard, Roine Stolt, Thieves' Kitchen, Tinyfish, Unitopia, Vienna Circle & Willowglass. It has been a joy to listen to these new (to me) artists, to discover that Progressive music is alive and well in the new millennium - and seemingly doing very well in Scandinavia!
The turn of a year is a time for taking stock, and at this time of year the music press publish their polls of 'The Best' of the last year. So, if you're interested, what have been my favourite albums of 2010? Well, in no particular order other than alphabetic by group, my Top 10 would have to be:
Aeon Zen: The Face of the UnknownIf these are just names to you, why not give them a listen on Spotify or last fm? What I like about music is that it can so often take you wonderfully by surprise, and it has great power to lift you to thoughts and emotions that were hitherto unattainable. It is a wonderful gift, and when stewarded well can reveal beauty and insight that no other medium can.
Anathema: We're Here Because We're Here
Hasse Froberg & Musical Companion: Future Past
Gazpacho: Missa Atropos
Iron Maiden: The Final Frontier
Kaipa: In the Wake of Evolution
Pat Metheney: Orchestrion
Spock's Beard: X
Tinyfish: The Big Red Spark
Unitopia: Artificial
I hope that 2011 will be another year of discovery, and rediscovery, for us all.
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