Max's paw - again.

Max the mutt (the other dog-collared male in my life) is at the vet again. The sore paw hasn't cleared up, so he is off to be sedated, shaved and medically investigated to remove what we think is a foreign body in his paw pad. I am currently very anti-teenage neds who smash bottles on paths and grassy areas. Hingin's too good for them - they need their a***s kicked! Bring back the birch!

And other grumpy old man type sentiments.

Praying against...

Something has been niggling at the back of my mind for the last day or two. At the Area Council Eucharist on Monday night, the intercessor prayed "against the Mugabe regime". I didn't feel that was right somehow. It just sounded wrong. And then it came to me. I had heard something similar once before:

From John Betjeman's "A Lady's prayer in Westminster Abbey"

Gracious Lord, oh bomb the Germans,
Spare their women for Thy Sake,
And if that is not too easy
We will pardon Thy Mistake.
But, gracious Lord, whate'er shall be,
Don't let anyone bomb me.

Keep our Empire undismembered
Guide our Forces by Thy Hand,
Gallant blacks from far Jamaica,
Honduras and Togoland;
Protect them Lord in all their fights,
And, even more, protect the whites.

JB was gently satirising the dominant cultural assumptions and the less pleasant unexamined ones of the upper/middle classes, even whilst agreeing with the rightness of their prayer that the evil Nazi regime be defeated. Now, I agree with the lady in Grangemouth's prayer that Comrade Ebagum and his gangster minions should be got out and that God might well lend a hand. I just wonder what other assumptions underlie the prayer. Are Africans unfit to govern themselves? Is Western democracy the only right way to run a country? Do we still hanker unconsciously for the return of Empire where we call the shots and impose our rules, virtues and sins on other parts of the globe?

Just musing!

Uganda and all that.

Well, I dutifully observed the said commemoration today and here's why. 2 years ago, I was lucky enough to go to Uganda with a group from Falkirk to visit our linked parish near the Rwandan-Congolese-Ugandan border. The people there are lovely and very warmly Christian. It was one of those life transforming experiences which deepened my commitment to issues like fair trade and trade justice and left me with an abiding love of Africa. I now understand why the old missionaries spent their lives there. The contentious issue of same sex relationships was discussed with the Parish Council. Our group made it clear that it wasn't an issue which exactly dominated the thoughts of ordinary Episcopalians on the ground and that even the most evangelical of us did not want to leave the SEC even if it was a bit liberal on this particular issue. I added my tuppence worth, which was to say that even if you thought it was a sinful activity, surely the response to it ought to be pastoral 1st and foremost and not about bashing folks over the head with a Bible or worse. We were listened to and respected and it was mutual.


Here are some photos which might explain why it made such an impact.



















An African version of Church bells





Mad Dogs and Scottish men!






A wee bit of Scotland on the Equator.









































Dougal in Africa.


Uganda is a wonderful country which has come on leaps and bounds. And the Church there is one which needs help. Dialogue is difficult because of the huge cultural and theological differences, but it is better surely to talk (and I mean talk, not chuck slogans at each other) than to separate and divide. I want to keep the conversation going with the rest of the Anglican world and will vote accordingly at General Synod. I said that to the Edinburgh Synod a while ago and the late and lovely Nigel Pounde (RIP) said "Yes, keep on saying that to the Church". He had done inter-faith dialogue in Malaysia and great work in reconciling the Church to the HIV +ve community. No one says dialogue and reconciliation is easy - but we shouldn't be the ones to cease to strive to make it happen.

Random thoughts

Thanks to Chris for making me think my life was terribly sedate and dull! Just to prove different, I went to the gym today and looked faintly athletic in my M&S swimming trunks! No pics available, so here's one of me in vestments instead!

Strange things I've noticed recently & random thoughts:

On the SEC page on Scottish Christian there's an advert for a firm of Private Eyes. Is this the latest cunning wheeze from Mission and Ministry to help us hunt down lapsed members?

Why do Presbyterians think typing 'Pentecost 2' on the Sunday sheet makes them Liturgical?

Why do some people remember Sung Mattins with affection?

Why do we exist?

A Sunday in Ordinary Time.

The usual 2 services this morning, interspersed with prayers for healing, it being the 1st of the month. I took the rare chance to sit in a pew at 10.30, as I had an NSM celebrating and a lay officiant leading the Liturgy of the Word. I simply surfaced from a pew after the Gospel in dog collar (OK, I was wearing trousers as well), did the address for the youngsters (having moved them to the front so I could ensure I was being notionally listened to - even our lot will leave their copies of "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows" at the back when I haul 'em up front. If they hadn't, I'd have told them how it ends - I'm evil that way! Quite interesting to see how the service handles from that perspective. I must do something about the Offertory!

Yesterdays visit to St Francis Xavier's reminded me that, for all the number of times I have been inside it, I have never really taken time to look at it properly. Accordingly, I dropped in this afternoon to look at leisure. They have some rather good modern stained glass and an impressive set of painted Stations of the Cross. Not to my personal taste to be honest, but that's life. Then I popped up the hill to the Carmelite Convent where we went for a quiet day some time back for Evening Prayer and Benediction. Very nice actually. Prayerful, despite the sisters singing the Psalms at a pitch suitable only for devout bats, rather than tenors, as is the wont (in my experience) of female religious everywhere and of every denomination. Although they usually pitch the Magnificat at a singable level. It's a little haven worth remembering on a Sunday Evening. Half an hour of peace, and they even have silence after the reading and the reflection to let God in. Not your usual RC gabble. Could almost have been Anglican.

Then I went for a steak at the pub and off to blog. Life of Reilly really.