Dinosaurs, Hats and tough questioning .......
On the first Sunday of the month our Local Ministry Development Team take responsibility for the worship at our main service.
Yesterday we focused on the need for clean water as a key source of health in Burkina Faso ( The Land of Incorruptible People) the speaker was a GP who raises money to provide water filters to ensure that the water people collect is potable.
During the service the young people experimented with the water filter, drawing very dirty water from a bucket through the filter and into a glass.
The congregation supports the charity and was engaged by the talk and the demonstration.
After the exchange of the peace I left the church with the young people to be interviewed in the Hall.
It proved to be a thoroughly enjoyable but rigorous test.
The whys and wherefores of the life of a Vicar were put under the microscope and forensically examined.
Put on the spot I had to describe how I, as young 19 year old, decided to to seek ordination? (the example of a particularly saintly young curate was the honest answer). Did I study? (Yes). Do I still study? (Again, yes!).
Then, a Googly, does God work through science? (Absolutely! Starting with the Big Bang! Exploding stars. The creation of life. We are made of stardust!)
Dinosaurs, did I believe that they existed? What is my favourite Dinosaur?
And so on to Hats.
My shaven headed style demands hats and I have quite a number. (confession, I was given a little pre-warning of the questions, so I made sure that my favourite hat was in my pocket, Purchased from a street vendor in Fuengirola, who might even have come to Spain from Burkina Faso, the hat with beads and gold threads woven into a rich red velvet, it is quite a special hat).
Hats came up again later in the sermon at the 6 30 service when I retold the famous story about Trevor Huddlestone doffing his cap to Desmond Tutu's mother in the market place in Soweto.
A sign of God's presence being made known through the simplest of human gestures, acknowledging a shared humanity.
My sermon last night was Part 1 of what is likely to be a trilogy. As we approach Ash Wednesday and move seamlessly into Lent our shared humanity, the works of the Devil and the raising of Christ will remain uppermost in our minds, as our gaze remains firmly focused on Easter.
Having been Deaconed fifty years on Trinity Sunday this year this is my last Hurrah. As a newly licensed Priest in Charge at age 73, I am finding that the whilst much is the same, I can no longer undertake my ministry by rote simply because so much has changed over the fifty years.
Lay ministry has changed the nature of church life, for the good I might say. The ordination of Women has changed the nature and expectations of ordained ministry. Safeguarding has become a key concern, quite rightly. Health and Safety has become an issue that needs to be constantly reviewed.
And as always, on any give day, my ministry might float between, burning palm crosses, preparing a sermon, dipping the oil tank, testing the damp in the Chancel Wall, having coffee with a member of the congregation, carpet bowls and a Parish Council meeting.
As the children questioned me I had to admit that on some days I could believe in Dinosaurs, because when I looked into the mirror I saw one staring back at me.
Yesterday we focused on the need for clean water as a key source of health in Burkina Faso ( The Land of Incorruptible People) the speaker was a GP who raises money to provide water filters to ensure that the water people collect is potable.
During the service the young people experimented with the water filter, drawing very dirty water from a bucket through the filter and into a glass.
The congregation supports the charity and was engaged by the talk and the demonstration.
After the exchange of the peace I left the church with the young people to be interviewed in the Hall.
It proved to be a thoroughly enjoyable but rigorous test.
The whys and wherefores of the life of a Vicar were put under the microscope and forensically examined.
Put on the spot I had to describe how I, as young 19 year old, decided to to seek ordination? (the example of a particularly saintly young curate was the honest answer). Did I study? (Yes). Do I still study? (Again, yes!).
Then, a Googly, does God work through science? (Absolutely! Starting with the Big Bang! Exploding stars. The creation of life. We are made of stardust!)
Dinosaurs, did I believe that they existed? What is my favourite Dinosaur?
And so on to Hats.
My shaven headed style demands hats and I have quite a number. (confession, I was given a little pre-warning of the questions, so I made sure that my favourite hat was in my pocket, Purchased from a street vendor in Fuengirola, who might even have come to Spain from Burkina Faso, the hat with beads and gold threads woven into a rich red velvet, it is quite a special hat).
Hats came up again later in the sermon at the 6 30 service when I retold the famous story about Trevor Huddlestone doffing his cap to Desmond Tutu's mother in the market place in Soweto.
A sign of God's presence being made known through the simplest of human gestures, acknowledging a shared humanity.
My sermon last night was Part 1 of what is likely to be a trilogy. As we approach Ash Wednesday and move seamlessly into Lent our shared humanity, the works of the Devil and the raising of Christ will remain uppermost in our minds, as our gaze remains firmly focused on Easter.
Having been Deaconed fifty years on Trinity Sunday this year this is my last Hurrah. As a newly licensed Priest in Charge at age 73, I am finding that the whilst much is the same, I can no longer undertake my ministry by rote simply because so much has changed over the fifty years.
Lay ministry has changed the nature of church life, for the good I might say. The ordination of Women has changed the nature and expectations of ordained ministry. Safeguarding has become a key concern, quite rightly. Health and Safety has become an issue that needs to be constantly reviewed.
And as always, on any give day, my ministry might float between, burning palm crosses, preparing a sermon, dipping the oil tank, testing the damp in the Chancel Wall, having coffee with a member of the congregation, carpet bowls and a Parish Council meeting.
As the children questioned me I had to admit that on some days I could believe in Dinosaurs, because when I looked into the mirror I saw one staring back at me.
Comments
Post a Comment