Month: July 2013

We’ve just come home after a short spell in Donegal. It turned out to be literally gardening leave. Donegal can be wet and cold. But it is also capable of sub-tropical jungle tendencies, So the thistles in the flower bed were at eye level and the fuschia hedge – one of the glories of Donegal – which I had carefully topped last summer had put on three feet. But a good time was had by all – particularly Poppy who is now approaching her 18th birthday.

Meanwhile back at Blogstead, we’ve been having a summer of visitors and we’ve been glad to see them, Arthur, one of my former curates, came with his family to do a couple of weeks in Ballintuim. It’s one of the great cultural experiences of Perthshire. Bishop Prince Singh of Rochester, New York, is looking after our congregations at Crieff, Comrie and Lochearnhead. He was part of my year group in what they tend to call Bishop School in the US. I think he and his family were enjoying the contrast. And I’ve been glad to renew friendship with Bishop Neil Alexander, formerly Bishop of Atlanta and now Chancellor of the University of the South at Sewanee, Tennessee. All of these welcome visitors remind us that this is an extraordinary place …

And Alison and I sit in the sun on the Newman Terrace here at Blogstead – sipping that quintessentially Anglican tipple – the slightly chilled, lightly sparkling, low alcohol rose – while pondering life and its meaning,

And into that idyll comes … Ah well. More of that tomorrow.

Over the last while, I’ve been developing a pattern of ‘out and about’ presence with some of our congregations. It feels like a cross between missional endeavour and electioneering. So it really suits me.

I set out on Tuesday morning with a group of members from our congregations in the Highland Perthshire Group – Holy Trinity, Pitlochry, Kilmaveonaig at Blair Atholl and All Saints at Kinloch Rannoch. I’d lost my voice and wasn’t feeling great – but otherwise everything was fine.

We started with an interview with Heartland Radio and then moved on to Heathergems – local industry – the hospital, nursing home, the Atholl Centre, McCarthy Stone development and countless others. We did the same in Blair Atholl and Kinloch Rannoch – ending up standing in the McDonald Mausoleum. The message we were trying to give is of a church which is interested in and concerned about its community. As the day progressed, I watched with great pleasure and satisfaction as the people who were with me gradually got the point of what we were doing and entered into the spirit of it. They were great.

And there is something else ….. relationships with the bishop have not always been easy. But as we bounced around the community like this, there wasn’t a trace of any of that. We were away out and beyond the difficulties of budgets and buildings.

Thank you to them all – and to the people who welcomed us – and to those who provided the picnic at Blair Atholl. My voice is now back!

I’m looking forward to ‘doing a wedding’ today when James and Anna get married in St Vincent’s Chapel in Edinburgh

As always it reminds me of what I miss. I used to do lots of weddings – could probably have gone in without the script and been entirely at ease. And now … well I hope James and Anna will be too busy being happy to notice … I fumble around a bit. I’ve lost that liturgical facility which comes when you live inside the liturgy because you do it over and over again,

So just in case I haven’t mentioned it before. …… There are huge privileges and great riches in episcopal ministry. I’ll tell you about them another day. But there are impoverishments as well. For example:

As the parish priest, you can massage difficult relationships and situations day by day and week by week. You can take your opportunities to move things along. The bishop has a meeting date in the diary and it has to be addressed and sorted there and then.

People are always somebody else’s people. You don’t have that elemental ‘priest and people’ connection cemented pastorally over months and years. Or, as I sometimes say, you aren’t part of the soap opera!

You aren’t part of the important moments in the lives of people and their families

We said our farewells this morning to Revd Fianach Lawry at St James the Great, Dollar. Fianach was one of the first women to be ordained priest in the Scottish Episcopal Church. As is often the case with those who are the first, she graced her office in a ministry which was vigorous yet also rich in loving compassion.

When I spoke about her, I said:

Fianach ministered faithfully here in St James over many years. She was greatly loved here because she gave herself unstintingly in response to her calling.

But it is in her Chaplaincy ministry at Glenochil Prison that I shall particularly remember her. Several times I visited the prison with her. I found myself accompanying a sort of mother figure who brought humanity and care. As often in the ministry of women, I found myself quietly envious – maybe respectful would be a more appropriate word – of the range of levels on which she could establish contact.

Much of the best of what a priest does is unseen. Much of what a priest does is remembered for ever by those who receive that ministry. I saw that in Glenochil.

The priest offers unconditional and loving acceptance – shares the loving compassion of a loving God – speaks the love which drives out fear – prays with faith and passion – whispers resurrection hope when all speaks of failure, loss and death.

We give thanks to her today to the God who called her to ministry and now calls her to be with him for ever.

I’m usually trying to keep the ears open – so it was slightly unusual to be handed a set of ear plugs when I turned up for the Royal Salute at Edinburgh Castle today. This is the 21 gun salute which marks the arrival of the Queen in Scotland on her annual visit.

Today happens to be the anniversary of the first day of the Battle of the Somme – at which the Ulster Division suffered enormous losses. That sacrifice still has mythic power in Irish politics, not least in the annual marching season where controversial Drumcree Parade was identified as a Somme Commemoration, The BBC website describes it like this:

Their “blood sacrifice” was seen as Ulster’s side of a deal in which Britain would somehow “see the loyal province right” in the agonising over Home Rule which was sure to resume when the fighting was done.

Just as interesting was a conversation about how in 1916 army leadership had failed to adapt to new and more mechanised patterns of warfare. Painfully they had to recognise that what had ‘always’ worked before no longer worked. Even to my 21 gun-deafened ears, that had a slightly familiar ring!