Away in a Manger
Well, I couldn't leave that slightly depressing previous post up over Christmas could I?
So....it's Christmas Eve. Later tonight as I come out of Midnight Mass I shall be scouring the skies for signs of Father Christmas on his sleigh.
Earlier on today I finally got round to putting some Christmas decorations up and now I am feeling suitably Christmassy. I got to listen to a bit of Carols from King's and eat one of the mince pies I made the other night (gorgeously light pastry - it ought to have been, it was so short it was a bugger to roll out, one of these days I'll get it right). I've binged on chocolate log so that now I have indigestion. Oh yes, it's Christmas.
Despite my wingeing about the church earlier we did have a fantastic carol service last Sunday. And a packed one. I have no idea where these people come from. Given how challenged I am by the whole incarnation thingy (what, God...become human...you're having me on) I do sometimes wonder what everyone is doing there. I'm guessing it's a tradition thing. And memories of childhood. And "something for the kiddies". But still. Anyway, even if I'm the only one having theological angst over the whole thing it really was a lovely service where the spirit of God (whatever that may mean) was most definitely present. There's Truth in story - somewhere.
And so to tonight....and the babe in a manger. Something special happening. A Mystery. A reminder of things Bigger and Beyond my small existence. A starry velvety black sky. Candles. Twinkling lights. Light and Dark. Feasting for a season.
Labels: Advent, Advent 2009
a seasonal pome
Heard this at the fabulous evening of poetry and prose held at the Old Church again the other week. Let's just say it resonates......
At Christmas little children sing and merry bells jingle,
The cold winter air makes our hands and faces tingle,
And happy families go to church and cheerily they mingle,
And the whole business is unbelievably dreadful if you're single.
A Christmas Poem by Wendy Cope
And now for some free-flowing thought around the subject. Sorry for the slight stream of consciousness.
Last year I avoided the whole happy families thing by escaping to the Middle East. This year I'm actually really really looking forward to spending it with my brother and sis-in-law, father and step-mother plus of course my gorgeous, gorgeous baby nephew. But it has struck me again that not a single family in the church I attend, despite knowing that I am sans partner, sans children, has taken any time to ask what I am doing. Is my church alone in this or are all churches equally as bad? I assume they assume that I have parents, siblings etc and will be doing something with them on Christmas Day itself and be doing things with friends around the season. But that is an assumption.
Why do I continually have higher expectations of how "church" people should behave in this regard than other people? Actually I know why I do - I see it, this building of community, care for others, as the call of the Gospel. So it disappoints me all the more when those who listen to that same Gospel fail to act on it. As of course I fail to do as well. (Let's be fair, I've not been going round people asking what they're doing for Christmas!)
The Christmas thing is an extension of my assumptions about what church is about. And for me that it's about community as much as anything else. I've lost count of the number of times after a service people have been chatting and then said "must go now, got to get the lunch on" for a nice family Sunday lunch without a thought that I could well be going back to my flat on my own for a lunch for one. (On the other hand I've had precisely four Sunday lunch invites from church people in over five years of attendance, two of which were from other single people!) The reality is of course that I create for myself a good life, have many, many friends outside of church with whom I hang out at weekends and have myself arranged many a post service lunch with other attendees who aren't in the kind of family network that does Sunday lunches. And of course there plenty of families/couple attending who don't do the whole Sunday lunch thing but instead are dashing about themselves. But it does strike me as a glaring failure of any claim to be a hospitable church that cares about its members.
Hmm, apologies for the ramblings. Must stop thinking and start working. And wrapping presents.
Labels: Advent, Advent 2009
Walking in the Woods with Dogs
Oh dear, so the daily Advent blogging went to pieces pretty speedily didn't it.
I blame
Good in Parts. You see on Saturday 5th December I embarked on a train heading westwards and that's pretty much the last you heard from me.
Well, what could I do. I was presented with walks in the woods with dogs, a roaring fire and, oh glory be, copies of
Lark in the Morn and Lark on the Wing and no access to wifi. But a fantabulous weekend. I was even up with the lark on the Sunday to check out her churches - 8:30 and 10:30 services at two different places. And indeed two very different places. One was originally effectively an estate chapel - and has gorgeous stained glass windows by William Morris et al - but still retains that kind of feel rather than a parish church feel. The other most definitely a local parish church. With grey haired coffee ladies and all. Great to see Good in Parts in action, and she was great. And lovely to be so welcomed at both churches. And then, oh glory be again, a proper roast Sunday lunch. Such luxury.
And got me well stoked up for the train journey to deepest, darkest, coldest, wettest Cornwall. Where there was also no wifi. And indeed no time for blogging. What with work. And interesting encounters with some locals.
But that's another post.
Labels: Advent 2009
The Mouse redux
OK, I know I have lots to blog about. Not least my complete failure to do daily advent blogging (I blame going away and not having wifi - except I discovered later that I did in fact have wifi just didn't realise)
Anyway, all of that pales into insignificance besides today's discovery that....
...the mouse is back.
I can hear rustling and scratching behind the kickboards in the kitchen.
Bah.
and Gargh.
Labels: Advent 2009, mouse
on Sinai's height
Oh, come, oh, come, our Lord of might,
Who to your tribes on Sinai's height
In ancient times gave holy law,
In cloud and majesty and awe.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to you, O Israel!Going to Jordan last year gave me a much, much better understanding of the geography of the region (there's something about standing on Mount Nebo at the spot (apparently) where Moses saw the Promised Land and having your guide say whilst gesticulating with this arm "over there is Israel, Galilee is up there [waving right], Egypt down there [waving left]" for it all to come together in one's head.
So I can now totally picture tribes wandering about mountains and valleys and hearing and seeing God in the cloud. (For whatever definition of God we want to give at this moment in time!)
[Photo is of Mt Sinai]
Unthanks
Oh, come O Rod of Jesse's stem,
From ev'ry foe deliver them
That trust your mighty pow'r to save;
Bring them in vict'ry through the grave.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to you, O Israel!No, I'm not spending Advent unthanking people!
But I did go to see the wonderful
Unthanks on Monday night. (Apparently the surname, which is Northumbrian, is something to do with people who occupied land illegally!). They've moved on from the two girls with a couple of backing singers/instrumentalists which served them so well in their early days to a larger band with more complex arrangements. Took me a long time to get used to it (just call me trad - and I love unaccompanied singing) but it was a great gig.
And blimey, how do they make clog dancing look sexy?
Labels: Advent, Advent 2009
Advent blogging - Day 2
Oh, come, our Wisdom from on high,
Who ordered all things mightily;
To us the path of knowledge show,
and teach us in her ways to go.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to you, O Israel!
It is I think perhaps no secret that my favorite church season is Lent. But Advent's pretty good too. And not just because of all the nice purple.
So once again I'm going to attempt to be daily blogging through Advent. As you can see it's going to be a bit of a challenge - I'm actually writing this on Day 3! But let's see where it takes me.
I went to the 8am service yesterday* which sadly meant I didn't get to sing 'O Come, O Come Emmanuel' one of my most loved hymns (it's that eerieness in the tune isn't it) which I spotted was on the playlist for the main service. I hope we'll sing it again at some point during Advent.
*Which is really far too early on a Sunday morning and not something I normally do (in fact I think I've only ever been once before) but I had a busy day ahead of me. However I was obviously not quite awake as I was half way down my street before I realised that the blurriness around me was not due to grogginess or dirty glasses, but to the fact that I had completely forgotten to put my glasses on at all. Oh dear. Never done that before.
[The picture is The Sea near Palavas, after Gustave Courbert 1850-1900 (National Gallery)]
Labels: Advent, Advent 2009
