I’m just fed up with the Perth-Edinburgh train service – slow trains, hopeless times [particularly in the early morning], lack of parking at Perth Station and so on …  So I’m going through one of my phases of trying alternatives – before I go back to the train.  Today’s was to drive to the new Park and Ride at Ingliston just by Edinburgh Airport and take the £1.20 bus in from there.  It proved to be not a great idea.  I waited almost 15 minutes for the bus at each end and it was a painfully slow journey to the City Centre.  I would have been faster on the Brompton but the A8 is not appetising for cyclists.

Next attempt is the Megabus – maybe from the Park and Ride at Kinross rather than the Broxden Roundabout.  I’ll let you know how it goes.

A flurry of phone calls from Belfast this morning reminded me that the BBC in Belfast has been putting out some of my pre-recorded Thought for the Day – if you’re interested it’s here and here and here and here

Strange this St Patrick’s Day not to be in Ireland.  I would have preferred to be in Washington listening to President O’Bama discussing his Irish roots.  But instead I was on Cumbrae in the College of the Holy Spirit passing the time with our Faith and Order Board.

Cumbrae is an extraordinary place – ten minutes on the ferry from Largs.  The College sits beside the Cathedral of the Isles.  Both are gems of Butterfield’s architecture built in 1851.  Our small church has great difficulty sustaining them.  But it’s hard to walk away from such treasures.  Go and take a look if you can.

For reasons too complicated to explain, I was staying in a guest house overlooking the shipping channel.  So I sat in the window of my room this morning dealing with my e mail.  As Liaison Bishop for Mission to Seafarers in Scotland, I was able to send an e mail to our Chaplain reporting that shipping on the Clyde is far from dead – four ships in an hour.

Most commentators seem to think that Northern Ireland’s politicians, people and political settlement came through a difficult week with considerable credit.  If you haven’t read David McKittrick of the Independent, take a look.  I think he remains one of the most authoritative writers on Northern Ireland and its problems.

So who was being attacked?  The PSNI and the Army, obviously.  On a wider scale – the political settlement and the whole community.  My own feeling is that in Northern Ireland the most interesting politics is within communities rather than between them.  Many people who were not fond of Sinn Fein could see that the long project of moving their people from violence to politics was an extraordinary feat of political leadership on the part of Gerry Adams and Martin McGuinness.  They achieved it without a major split – remember Brendan Behan’s famous remark about the historical tendency of Irish republican movements towards schisms and internal wranglings. After accepting the notes and apologies, the third item on the agenda of any republican meeting, said Behan, was ‘The Split’.

So small groups of dissident republicans are – sadly – almost inevitable.  Part of what they were attacking was the movement of mainstream republicanism into politics.  So the strong words of condemnation from Sinn Fein leaders are an attempt to make sure that the partition between mainstream and dissidents doesn’t move.

So the best that can come out of a dreadful week is a strengthened understanding of people right across the community that they have much in common and much to lose.

Well the trivial round and common task take us to some rare and interesting places.  Glamis Castle comes round now and again as it did this Sunday morning.

The faithful Passat did a reasonable impression of a carriage and four down the immensely long drive.  We had Eucharist and Confirmation in the beautiful little chapel.  The guides say that one seat in the chapel is always reserved for the “Grey Lady” (supposedly a ghost which inhabits the castle), thought to be Janet Douglas, Lady Glamis.  Apparently no one is allowed to sit in that seat.  The Grey Lady did not emerge to give us her view of the sermon.  There is a confessional in the sacristy.  Neither did she appear to receive ghostly counsel.

So it’s official.  Doesn’t matter what age you start exercising – just so long as you do it.  So I dutifully puffed my way round the Wolfhill circuit [about five miles from Blogstead] this afternoon.  But the cold … this is the time of year in Scotland when you begin to believe that winter will never loosen its grip.

So I find myself reading cycle routes in bed.  How about Loch Katrine?   Cycle the length of the loch on a flat, traffic-free road and take a trip back on Sir Walter Scott. Sounds perfect.

Another dangerous word – along with ‘usual’ and ‘everybody’

So I enjoyed my Lent visit to Coupar Angus to talk ‘about’ God, Dawkins and Nigella.  Not that we ended up talking much about either Dawkins or Nigella.  But I have a regrettable habit of doing that.  All talks which I give to Probus and other groups have the same title – ‘A lovely place to go home from’.  But the title is all that they share.  It comes, by the way, from one of my former but favourite parishioners – Vera.  After we had been to America in a group together, I asked her how she felt about the New World with all its pulsating vigour, land of opportunity,  etc.  ‘A lovely place to go home from.’  Exactly.

At Coupar Angus, I plunged into what I hope was a lively conversation with Alison Peden – feinting left and right around the ‘So Bishop do you believe in God?’ question.   It seems to me that this kind of friendly but challenging conversation – where two people try to ‘push’ one another to say what it is that they believe – is far better than lecture.

But as I hoped and – to be honest – expected, the clearest and most authoritative statement of faith came from the lady on my right.  What part of her faith could she not deny?  ‘There is nothing which they can take away from me.’

Spring, by the way, has retreated from Blogstead and we have had snow today.  At our Clergy Meeting today in Auchterarder, several people arrived almost struck dumb by the beauty of the drive through Glen Devon and Gleneagles.

It was of course Father Dougal who said, ‘Sure you wouldn’t believe any of that stuff, Ted’

So I’ve done my fill of planning, strategizing, consulting and all that.  I’m moving on now to begin to get into some of ‘that stuff’ which Dougal found so disturbing.  I’m attempting a sort of roadshow around the diocese with a look at what we believe and how we believe it.  Starting off this evening in Coupar Angus – closest of our churches to Blogstead – with God, Dawkins and Nigella.

It will be interesting to see what happens.  I shall be particularly interested to see if, as I hope to find, people are rather more interested in faith than they are in the church.  Seems entirely healthy to me.  It’s just a pity that it is the church like a great hungry animal which devours us all daily.

If you want to know what I am doing and where to find me on this pilgrimage, the details are here

George Herbert popped up this morning in the Anglican calendar.

I have always been a great fan.  And what I like best is the extraordinary economy with which he writes.  I do a bit with words myself – but look at a hymn like King of Glory and marvel and how much he does with single-syllable words.  Amazing.

Only equalled by my all-time favourite, Charles Wesley’s ‘Forth in thy name O Lord I go’ – which passes the same test.   ‘Thee only thee resolved to know/In all I speak or think or do’