There are three levels of Synod, General, Diocesan and Deanery.
Iam on the lowest, the Deanery. We had a meeting on Thursday evening. It was an important meeting to attend, because we had to vote on a new issue that is coming up at General Synod in April. Before it goes to Generral, it will need to go through Diocesan, who will take on board what we have voted in Deanery, although they may ignore our thoughts, we in fact have no voting rights as such on the decision that will eventually be made.
The whole issue is an idea of Rowan Williams the Archbishop of Canterbury. It is extremely complex, and takes one hell of a lot of understanding, even the summaries, and outline points of the main ideas are difficult, The aim is for the Anglican Communion, which is made up of 43 sections to have a more common approach as to how we interact with each other and become more of a cohesive unity.
The church in Australia, hass already made it known that it will noy sign up to it., and the church is Africa has been told by its bishops bot to agreer to it either.
It would appear to have very few points in its favour, and a lot againts it. For example it will diminish the individuality of the Anglican churches initrs breadth of Churchmanship.
Well anyway after a lot of discussion it came to a vote. One silly man pleaded with us all to abstain. I just had to oppose this idea as I felt that in abstaining, we would be sending a feeling that we were apathetic, indicisive or at worst not bothering to underrstand and grapple with the complex issues. When it actually was voted on I was pleased that both the house of Laity and the house of Clergy defeated the motion set before us that the Covenant be accepted.
I left the meeting with a stonking headache.
I would love to have a talk with Rowan Williams to try and get to the heart of what his ideas are for the Anglican Communion. I reeally respect the man and have a lot of time for him and his Churchmanship but I fear that he is often unable to get across his thoughts to us mere mortals who do not posses his academic ability. I remember going to hear a lecture he was givinbg in Saklisbury Cathedral some whiler ago now, he had just been announced as the new Archbishop but not yet been consecrated. Anyway I went along armed with notebook and penbcil, and as i listened it became clear to me that I would need to take notes as I could not understand a word he was on about. When I got home and reread my notes, I was still very much in the dark.
He I feel still struggles to get his point across, its a shame because he has a lot to contribute to the life and work of the Church
Friday 18 November 2011
Monday 14 November 2011
SHIT!
Literally.
Why does the drainage system always grind to a halt on a Sunday, or a Bank Holiday?
Well yesterday was the day. 13th wasn't it?
I arrived back from church to be informed by a neighbourt that raw sewage was flowing out of the manhole cover in the pathway beside the houses, and down into the street.
Well after much consultation with both neighbours, plus poking and prodding by the men, followed by much water and sweeping, the drainage services were called, we are much known to them, and bloody good customers I might add. The answerphone informed us that they did not work on Sundays well whats new.
And so for the rest of the day we all put ourselves on water usage ration and got on with life, as best we could. They duly arrived this morning, rodded and whatever, said that tree roots from neighbouring gardens may well be hindering the old clay pipes ! causing blockages.
At least we can now all get on with life with the added bliss of no water restrictions.
Remind me will you when I next look at houses to steer clear of those not on main drainage.
Why does the drainage system always grind to a halt on a Sunday, or a Bank Holiday?
Well yesterday was the day. 13th wasn't it?
I arrived back from church to be informed by a neighbourt that raw sewage was flowing out of the manhole cover in the pathway beside the houses, and down into the street.
Well after much consultation with both neighbours, plus poking and prodding by the men, followed by much water and sweeping, the drainage services were called, we are much known to them, and bloody good customers I might add. The answerphone informed us that they did not work on Sundays well whats new.
And so for the rest of the day we all put ourselves on water usage ration and got on with life, as best we could. They duly arrived this morning, rodded and whatever, said that tree roots from neighbouring gardens may well be hindering the old clay pipes ! causing blockages.
At least we can now all get on with life with the added bliss of no water restrictions.
Remind me will you when I next look at houses to steer clear of those not on main drainage.
Sunday 13 November 2011
Remembrance
Well I do hope that this is the first of many blogs from my new laptop.
Today is for me one of the most difficult days of the year.
I find Remembrance Sunday quite harrowing. I prefer doing a Service in the open air at one of the village memorials, rather than one in church which requires a sermon - lazy me you might think. But speaking about remembrance to a church full of people, young, old, very old, and service men and women in uniform, is daunting, they will have all come with their own thoughts and expectations.
Well this year I had a full service to do.
Normally when preaching I prefer to speak from the chancel steps, but a formal occasion such as todays service requires nothing less than the pulpit.
Up I climbed - a sea of faces all upturned in my direction waiting with expectations which I just hope I can fulfil.
I spoke about my memories of past Remembrance times. going back to my childhood, listening to my Grandfather telling me stories of his service in the Boer war when in Africa he was in charge of the horses, and then him tellingh me stories of the first World War. My Grandmother ast his side telling him off, "Bill do'nt tell her such things", I would have been about six or seven. I adored my grandfather and I remember watching the service of Remembrance with him on his little black and white telly coming from the Royal Albert Hall, pointing out to him Peter processing with the choir into the arena, and watching the poppies descending, and landing on Pete's shoulder, "thats the man I hope to marry Granddad " I remember telling him. He died very soon after that, he and Peter never met, but it was Peter who comforted me in my loss.
And of course my father fought and was horrifically injured in the last war the only man of his anti aircraft gun to survive after is took a direct hit. This was in Gibralter, he was badly burnt and blinded for some while, after being airlifted back to England, to continue with his treatment of many skin grafts, which included new eye lids, he was sent by the War Office to work in the local Borstal young offenders institution until the war ended. My father was in fact more severely disabled mentally than physically he was never the same man again I understand. He was in my childhood memories of him a hard, often brutal man who could often be very unkind to those closest to him. All |I| am sure due to his experiences endured in the war.
The dean of Westminster I once heard say, that Remember is the opposite of Dismember. War dismembers so many in so many ways, and that in Remembering we are making them whole again, in our minds and our thoughts.
Jesus on the cross being crucified along with two criminals, was exhorted by one of them, "When you come into your kingdom remember me". He may not have realised what he was asking Jesus to do, but what he was actually asking was for Jesus to make him whole again.
In summary (if anyone is still reading), some of my thoughts that went into my sermon today, but in I might add a more cohesive manner. Its late!
Today is for me one of the most difficult days of the year.
I find Remembrance Sunday quite harrowing. I prefer doing a Service in the open air at one of the village memorials, rather than one in church which requires a sermon - lazy me you might think. But speaking about remembrance to a church full of people, young, old, very old, and service men and women in uniform, is daunting, they will have all come with their own thoughts and expectations.
Well this year I had a full service to do.
Normally when preaching I prefer to speak from the chancel steps, but a formal occasion such as todays service requires nothing less than the pulpit.
Up I climbed - a sea of faces all upturned in my direction waiting with expectations which I just hope I can fulfil.
I spoke about my memories of past Remembrance times. going back to my childhood, listening to my Grandfather telling me stories of his service in the Boer war when in Africa he was in charge of the horses, and then him tellingh me stories of the first World War. My Grandmother ast his side telling him off, "Bill do'nt tell her such things", I would have been about six or seven. I adored my grandfather and I remember watching the service of Remembrance with him on his little black and white telly coming from the Royal Albert Hall, pointing out to him Peter processing with the choir into the arena, and watching the poppies descending, and landing on Pete's shoulder, "thats the man I hope to marry Granddad " I remember telling him. He died very soon after that, he and Peter never met, but it was Peter who comforted me in my loss.
And of course my father fought and was horrifically injured in the last war the only man of his anti aircraft gun to survive after is took a direct hit. This was in Gibralter, he was badly burnt and blinded for some while, after being airlifted back to England, to continue with his treatment of many skin grafts, which included new eye lids, he was sent by the War Office to work in the local Borstal young offenders institution until the war ended. My father was in fact more severely disabled mentally than physically he was never the same man again I understand. He was in my childhood memories of him a hard, often brutal man who could often be very unkind to those closest to him. All |I| am sure due to his experiences endured in the war.
The dean of Westminster I once heard say, that Remember is the opposite of Dismember. War dismembers so many in so many ways, and that in Remembering we are making them whole again, in our minds and our thoughts.
Jesus on the cross being crucified along with two criminals, was exhorted by one of them, "When you come into your kingdom remember me". He may not have realised what he was asking Jesus to do, but what he was actually asking was for Jesus to make him whole again.
In summary (if anyone is still reading), some of my thoughts that went into my sermon today, but in I might add a more cohesive manner. Its late!
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