Well, I started as I did 15 years ago with a ride on the Clockwork Orange. This time it was from Buchanan St to Kelvinbridge, then I started out from West Street in my shiny new tonsure neck dog collar shirt, Grandads gold cuff links and the good suit from Marks & Sparks bought for going to Uni back in 85. Pure dead gallus High Church, by the way! I met a UF minister on the train I'd been at Uni in Aberdeen with and when he asked what I was doing these days, I said I was on my way to the Cathedral to be ordained.
The Crime Scene - St Mary's Cathedral
Next stop was the scene of the crime - St Mary's Cathedral. It was shut. Well, 15 years ago they forgot to organise a post service bun fight, so it was kinda appropriate. I wandered around the outside, thinking of the service, my knuckles going white on the rail as we sang the Veni Creator, the sermon which likened the ceremony to something in Largs called the Crowning of the Brisbane Queen! Two friends collapsing with giggles in the clergy seating when they heard that! My fellow deacon's suntan which made him look like Tommy Sheridan. Vivid pictures.
Then I crossed the road, passed the cafe where we'd gone for tea with the Bishop before the service and stopped to view the Usque Beatha in Woodlands Road. The lack of official bun fight meant we decamped there after the ordination. It was a brilliant summer evening, gloriously warm. I was stood outside with a pint of Caley 80 when I observed this wee guy swaying up the road towards the pub. He looked in the bottom door: zillions of dog collars. He came up and looked in the main door: even more zillions of dog collars. He came over to me and uttered the immortal words: "Scuse me pal, is it a Tarts and Vicars party the night?" Priceless! You simply could not have made that one up.
An aide memoire
When I got to the Museum, I hunted out the Salvador Dali Crucifixion. Why the Cooncil have stuck it in that poky corner next to that duct, when it looked so good in St Mungo's Museum up by the Cathedral, I simply do not know. It's lost there. A copy of it was on the altar card at St Ninian's when I was a curate. It just reminds me of what I learned to do and love there. Celebrate God's love with God's people in the beauty of worship that lifts the heart and mind heavenward. And that was my wee pilgrimage.