Category: Blog Entry

Spent part of this evening with a group of Humanists – arming myself with Cpt 12 of Michael Ramsey’s ‘Christian Priest Today’ in which he quotes Psalm 37 ‘Fret not thyself about the ungodly’.  But of course no fretting required.  They wouldn’t have invited me unless they were a pretty inclusive lot – or maybe they just think I am harmless.   I did my best to disarm them by suggesting that my enemies were not humanists but fundamentalists of all kinds and the indifferent shrug of secularism – and I attempted to shoot all my own foxes before they got to them.  I found it an interesting meeting.  If it leaves me with questions, it is about the apparent willingness of humanists to rely on assumptions about a set of universal human values.  Which suggests, firstly, that you can work out what those might be.  And then one ponders what humanists would do with that group of people who simply tell you where you can put your universal human values – and whether there are limits to tolerance and inclusiveness.  It was also interesting to look at what is I suppose the mixture of strands of belief in many of us.  I believe in human progress –  we celebrate the anniversary of the ending of slavery.  But we seem to make so little headway with the difficult problems – world hunger, wars, relationships – indeed, original sin lurks ..

It took me a while to notice the dead mouse under the chair in the family room this morning.  This is Poppy’s boudoir but she had obviously been conducting a personal safari overnight. This is the second time!

We spent Mothering Sunday in Auchterarder.  Beautiful church and a congregation of many talents – looking for a Rector at present.

Well, we left the St Patrick’s Day bash at the Irish Consulate at 7.55 pm precisely although I suspect it had a day or two yet to run.  Beautiful food and posh wine – but there was somebody pulling reassuring-looking pints of the black stuff over in the corner.  The room seemed to have a fair number of Irish exiles wandering about and thinking wistfully about going back home – so that was all right.  De Minister made a warm and witty speech about the ethnic links between Ireland and Scotland.  And we went home the direct route.

Time to move from ‘most unread’ to an Oscar for ‘greatest economy in an ecclesiastical setting.’

Anne’s William Trevor quote which appeared in the comments here is perfect – “nothing beats his description of Father Clohessy, with his ‘general feeling of deprivation’ and lessened sense of vocation in the face of a changing church and society.”  Diocesan Review, Year of Stewardship, clergy accountability … I can feel it myself.

My own favourite will always be drawn from the Father Ted manual on Collaborative Ministry – the Spirit leads into all truth.  ‘Makes you think, Dougal. ‘About what, Ted?’

And to move closer to home, from Trollope’s Barchester Towers – a sort of handbook of anglican polity – Bishop Proudie is not impressed by Mr Slope’s sermon – which he regards as ‘ill-timed, impertinent and vexatious’ – and meets the disapproval of his wife. ‘There was a look about the lady’s eye which did not admit of my lord’s disapproving at that moment.  He felt that if he intended to disapprove, it must be now or never; but he also felt that it could not be now.’

Well the polar bears can hang on a bit longer.  I managed to go to Edinburgh and to Dunblane on the way home by train with Brompton folding bicycle.  The strangest thing is that you are allowed stop overs on the home leg of the Cheap Day Return.  So thanks to First Scotrail.  The bicycle is to avoid the impossiblity of parking at Perth Station.

I was interested to see that the papers had obviously been reading this blog and continue to indulge in discussion about the worlds most unread books – as I suspected, Ulysses tops the list.  Apparently, 72% of those who bought a copy claim to have read it complete.  The Independent doesn’t believe them and nor do I.  I continue to recommend William Trevor – and am surprised how many people have never heard of him.  Class of his own, I think – particularly the short stories.

And speaking of green issues, we’re off to a St Patrick’s-tide Reception with the Irish Consul in Edinburgh tomorrow night.  Careful!

We’ve just reached the time of year when the rising sun shines through the Tay Bridge as I am going to Dundee at around 6.45. This morning’s drive was enlived by the efforts of a deer [which had presumably escaped from Psalm 42] tried to throw itself under the car as I went round the back of Dunsinnane Hill

BBC Scotland – Thought for the Day – 14th March

‘But how did it get there?’ I ask.  It’s taken me several days of fiddling around to get the screws in the wall into the exact place so that they will match the little holes on the back of the mirror.  Well, it’s there now and I hope it’s still there in the morning.

Meanwhile, after a meeting in the Cathedral today, I went off into a corner for a meeting with one of the clergy.  Only to find that we had been locked in.  But three thumps with the crozier on the door seemed to do the trick.

It’s remarkable how political ideas and themes quite suddenly come of age.  So green issues have moved from the political fringes to mainstream debate between David Cameron and Gordon Brown.  And quite right too.  We’re busy dealing with all the moat issues – energy saving light bulbs and turning off the standby setting on the TV – while feeling helpless about the beam issues like our overall carbon footprint as measured in excessive numbers of flights and of miles driven.  But when you live in a rural area ..

Meanwhile, between us we have booked three flights with Flybe during the last three months.  The score so far is two flights cancelled and one delayed by nearly three hours.  Time to let the train take the strain – but those options are limited between here and Belfast.

To get to Tayport from Blogstead, you hurdle the Sidlaw Hills, cross the Tay Bridge and turn left.  It’s rather a place apart and that’s its charm – you wouldn’t go there unless you were going there so it has that slightly ‘secret’ feel.  We have a small and faithful congregation there – they are remarkable for many things but most of all because they demolished their church hall and built a nice, new, small, well-heated, welcoming, brightly lit and paid-for hall.  In other words, they had faith in their future.  I am for ever suggesting to people they should go and look at it.

This evening we went to hear Bach’s St John Passion in the Concert Hall in Perth.  Unfortunately I can’t give credit where credit is due because they ran out of programmes.  I could tell you who most of the audience were because they seemed to be mainly members of the SEC.  It was a good performance – great evangelist in particular.  But I found my mind going back to the quite outstanding performance last year by Mark Padmore.  When he reached ‘Peter went out and wept bitterly,’ I gripped the arms of my seat because he produced a simply terrifying sound which seemed to contain all the anguish of lost humanity.

And I thought a bit about our worship – and what it takes to create worship which does take you by the throat – which rises above the pedestrian.  Obviously you can’t expect it to do that every Sunday morning.  But just now and again, perhaps?  Seems to me its a combination of passion with an aspiration to rise, literally, above the mundane.  And, as I listened to the music tonight, it seemed to me to be also about creating pools of space and silence, about varying pace, about how what is soft speaks louder than what is merely noisy.  I noticed tonight that I sometimes felt the emotion of the moment in the space that followed it – not at the moment itself.  Strange that.  Let’s not go there.

I am becoming more of a fair weather cyclist – signs of age maybe?  But I’ve been starting to cycle around this wonderful – and flat – part of Scotland again as the first signs of spring arrive.  The roads were wet when I went out this morning around 11 am but dry quite soon after.  There’s a great circle of snow-capped mountains all around – but the wind that blows off them would split you in two.  For reasons too complicated to explain, I’m at present riding a mountain bike which really belongs to Mark and was bought before he became a giant.  I replaced the tubes and have the tyres blown up to my customary 75 psi to minimise the effort required.  Even for my stunted growth it is a tad too short in the seatpost – the legs should be almost straight at the bottom of the pedal travel – so I’m hoping to get something that fits better.  The late Mr Humphries would no doubt measure my inside leg with aplomb.