The Birthday of the BVM

Almighty and everlasting God,
who stooped to raise fallen humanity
through the child-bearing of blessed Mary:
grant that we, who have seen your glory
revealed in our human nature
and your love made perfect in our weakness,
may daily be renewed in your image
and conformed to the pattern of your Son,
Jesus Christ our Lord,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever. Amen.

A little less me, a little more God. Or perhaps not? "We who have seen...your love made perfect in our weakness". That bit of this Collect describes so powerfully my experience of the Christian life over the years. Much weakness and human frailty and failing, but also the revelation of God's love in and through very failible human beings. And in the shewing of that love (thanks Dame Julian!), there is also the revelation of the glory that is God, not through an abstract perfection but through the flawed medium of the clay of human nature.

Perhaps clay is too sanitised a term. For our human nature is bound up profoundly with our bodies. The glory that is God is in the blood and the sweat and the tears and the snot that is our physical being. And the perfection only reveals itself in the reality of human living, with its agonies and ecstasies. Bernini's Ecstasy of St Theresa, which I stood dazzled in front of in Rome on holiday some years ago, catches brilliantly the truth that it is our very physical humanity in which we experience the deepest reality of God. it is the only medium through which the Divine can touch us. To try to seperate our "holiness" or "spirituality" from our earthly being is folly and dualism to boot.

Mary reminds us that it is solely through our humanity, redeemed by Christ and sanctified by the Spirit, we can know and serve God. Every feast of the Virgin recalls us to celebrate our human-ness. And in celebrating to know God more fully.

The beginning of the end.

The meeting to discuss the farewell service went well with a immediate idea that a version of Compline "Completed" the cycle. 3 hymns, psalmody, canticle and a Franciscan bit for the leaving of Community. Somehow, a big festal Eucharist does not feel right and Eucharist said would be so anti-climatic. So the night office with its sense of completion and the promise of resurrection come the morning seems to provide a better balance.

Ruby Foster's funeral is tomorrow at Christ Church. Again, I felt my re-appearence might be a distraction to the family, so I will skip that and simply remember Ruby in prayer. Not cutting myself off fom the community of which I have been a part, but working out where and when are the right places to meet and explain and say what needs to be said. This feels so different from the Kirkcaldy experience, where I thought (in part) "Thank God that's finished". Falkirk are one of the most caring and welcoming congregations I have known and it is with a real and profound sense of regret that I move into a different future. I don't want to leave at one level, but I also know there is a need to, because parish ministry is not where I ought to be. It is a very bittersweet thing to plan this departure. But it must be done. To simply slip off would be wrong.

Memories and that.

Fun and culture were the order of the day with a trip to the end of Festival concert and fireworks in Princes Street Gardens last night. All Handel (music for the Royal Fireworks, Zadok the Priest, the Arrival of the Queen of Sheba, Hallelujah Chorus etc - very Classic FM, rather than Radio 3), it being old GF's 250th. Spectacular fireworks. And unlike 7 years ago, I didn't have a nervous breakdown while they were going off. My famous "It was like a scene from Tosca" moment according to friends. Ach well, I always did have a flair for the dramatic!

Today we meet to discuss some sort of service of farewell to give everyone at Falkirk some closure, which might feel a bit weird. We shall get there though.

Preparing to opt out.

A blur of terribly official things just now. Assuming I will not be in employment as of 1st October, bits of paper are being gathered for the DWP, so SSP 1, sick lines and payslips are being got out, papers for the Sons of the Clergy and bits and bobs for Housing Benefit sought. Also making sure the bank account is braced for the drop in income. Funnily enough, the old brain is functioning quite crisply, which is an improvement. No panic or anxiety just a sense of doing what needs to be done. Good turn of events. I do not feel I will be overwhelmed.

And there are some supportive notes appearing from people too. One from my friendly local Monsignor, another from nice nuns. These little things do make a difference.

One or two bits of not so good news: Ruby Foster (ex-Christ Church and Cursillo) has died suddenly and that is a bit of a downer. I hope to go to the funeral, but it will be in Falkirk and it would feel very odd to be there, in office but doing nothing. Also all the questions and queries. I actually wonder if I ought to go, given that it might distract from the family and their needs. Also, Mum's old work mate's husband has died and she is finding it rather upsetting trying to be there for Jean but it's very close to Dad's anniversary, so...

Prayers I think all round.

The agony and the ecstasy..of ice cream.

It was fun to hear that my favourite manufacturer of ice cream, Ben and Jerry's (long gone are the days when I thought a De Vito's vanilla cone with the sweet raspberry sauce known in Glasgow as "Tally's Blood" and Horace Demarco's banana splits were the very height of iced dairy sophistication)have flown the flag for LGBT marriage. To celebrate the legalisation of same sex marriage in their native state of Vermont, they have renamed their "Chubby Hubby" "Hubby Hubby"! Most excellent idea. My only cavil is a grump that Chubby Hubby was my personal favourite flavour which they discontinued a year or two back (chocolate and malted vanilla with peanut butter filled pretzels) and I have been trying to find it ever since!! Will this wonderful decadent concoction make its way across the Atlantic again to delight my taste buds? Or will the mingy hippies keep it on the USAnian side of the water? Memo to America: send us yer ice cream!!