Mike's musings

A great woman

Some people are known to all, and some are great in a quiet way. Moo's Aunty Kitty died this morning with a member of family at her bedside, though Parkinson's meant that she'd not been able to know anybody for quite a while. She was always the mainstay of the family. She never married, but was always first on the scene for a family crisis. She worked all her adult life for Littlewood's - and for everybody else. And noone could wield a hoover or clear plates like her at 0730, even if people were still in bed.

She's where she should be: in God's hands, where she will finally know herself again.

Labels: death, family

Good Friday

Windy, cold, wet. But not God-forsaken.

Labels: death

Killed. And saved.

Al Qaeda have killed many people in Algeria today. Including students on a bus, who happened to be passing the UN offices. The UN isn't perfect, and it has a heavy Western bias, but the US don't like it particularly, and it's the best we've got. So why bomb them?

I took the dog for a walk today, and as I was walking along the road, I heard a squealing skid, and a car clearly hitting something quite hard. I turned round, saw a vehicle in the ditch in the dark, and sprinted there, calling 999 on the way. There was a van, upside down, with its lights on, in the ditch. I was first there, and three or so other guys turned up within seconds, pulling their cars up as they saw what had happened. There was a single person in the van, trapped, but only slightly hurt. He was very lucky and would, I suspect, have been dead if he'd not been in a fairly modern vehicle (a 2 year old Berlingo), and wearing a seatbelt. I stayed with him, talking to him and the emergency services on the phone until the police (3 cars), fire service (2 appliances) and ambulance (at least vehicle) arrived. In the end, there was nothing much I needed to do, other than chat with the driver, help the emergency services as best I could (check the driver for injuries, ensure there were no hazardous substances in the van, etc.), but I was really worried that there was going to be someone really badly injured in there, and that the van was going to be so badly damaged that I wouldn't be able to help them much. But I suspect he'll be home inthe next day or so to his family, who live locally (but who he wouldn't let us phone, as he didn't want to worry them!). So, one saved. Let's be thankful for that.

And pray for those who haven't been saved, their families and friends.

Labels: death

Meg

I've just got back from the vet, where I took Meg. On their advice - which we'd anticipated - they put her down as she lay cuddled and peaceful in my arms, where she died. We'd had her since she was a kitten, in the year we got married - 1995 - and she was a lovely - if sometimes standoffish - cat. We're very glad that she came home, but she wasn't getting better, and we decided that any further intervention wouldn't have been fair. You have a responsibility to your animals throughout their life, and we believe that we've fulfilled that. I've now had two pets die in my arms, and feel very privileged to have had that chance: I wouldn't have it another way.

Labels: death, meg

Good Friday

(backposting) For me, this is the most theologically charged day of the Christian calendar. For reasons not worth enumerating, I knew from early in the day that I wasn't going to get a chance to go to a church service, which was difficult. I managed, however, to find 20 minutes or so to sit down with my laptop and listen to Tallis' "Lamentations of Jeremiah", streamed from home. We need to take the spiritual comfort we can, when we can, and this saw me through.

We had a good day, and the evening's meal ended up with my trying to explain the intricacies of the Anglican hierarchy to the assembled throng -

• Mac: I don't see why we don't just call all priests "vicars"
• Me: For the same reason that we don't call all doctors "GPs"

- and then talking about vocation - mine, and others. It was interesting, and an important part of my ministry, I think: to be open to the questions and probings of those around with little faith or none, but at least showing an interest.

Managed to make the end of a party in SecondLife to mark the opening of a new area for faith groups called Koinonia. Only stayed for a while, but caught up with a few friends, listened to the live music, etc., so at least I made an appearance.

Good Friday - some theology

Looking back on this post, I thought that I ought to spend a little time talking about why Good Friday is so theologically charged for me. There are other candidates, of course: Christmas, when the Word was made Flesh and dwelt among us; Easter, when Christ rose again from the dead in glory; Pentecost, when the disciples, remaining behind, unsure and leaderless, were gifted with the Holy Spirit and given a reality to their commission. These are the most obvious, but for me, it has to be Good Friday. Without the death of Christ on the cross, none of the rest of it would make sense, or have any substance. It is the rending of the curtain of the temple, the destruction of the split between heaven and earth, the kenosis, the moment when, in death, Jesus, a man, suffered and became Christ, our God. I should qualify that last statement: I don't mean that Jesus was not God before his death on the cross - that way lies heresy! - but that this moment is where the reality is revealed, the single moment of history on which the rest of the created order turns.

Easter is now possible: Christ, the propitiation for our sins, can rise in glory (but what a tear-obscured rising in the garden!). Christmas suddenly makes sense: there is a reason why God has made an appearance. And Pentecost is where we, God's church, need to take over the witness.

Jerusalem, Jerusalem: convertere ad Dominum Deum tuum.

Jerusalem, Jerusalem: turn to the Lord your God.

Labels: Christ, death, music, party, secondlife, theology

Emily Dickinson

I heard a Fly buzz -- when I died --
The Stillness in the Room
Was like the Stillness in the Air --
Between the Heaves of Storm --

The Eyes around -- had wrung them dry --
And Breaths were gathering firm
For that last Onset -- when the King
Be witnessed -- in the Room --

I willed my Keepsakes -- Signed away
What portion of me be
Assignable -- and then it was
There interposed a Fly --

With Blue -- uncertain stumbling Buzz --
Between the light -- and me --
And then the Windows failed -- and then
I could not see to see --

Labels: death, poetry

Death of a priest

People die. Priests die. And sometimes, priests get murdered. Attacks on priests are on the rise. I personally know a priest who thought he was going to die, after being threatened by a mentally ill man with a pistol. Twice, and the same man. It's sad that part of our training involves advice on how to look after yourself as a minister.

It's an occupational hazard and, as the assistant bishop says in the report, "any murder is terrible, but the murder of a priest is almost unthinkable because a priest stands for peaceable things". But that, or course, is part of the danger. Those who preach peace are a danger and a threat to those who don't believe in it, or are disturbed, or ill. This is clearer in parts of the world where Christians are persecuted, but it can hit at home, as well. Please pray for his family, friends and parishioners.

Labels: death, ministry, priest

Hospice care and euthanasia

(backposting) A really challenging couple of sessions this morning. Ably led by Geoff (visiting) and Malcolm respectively. Really thought-provoking, and there were some pretty emotional people around after them, unsurprisingly.

A good Eucharist - it's been odd, though, not singing at all this weekend. I need to try to preserve my voice and let it get better, and singing wouldn't help. So.

Back home in the afternoon. Lovely to see Jo and Moo.

Labels: death, singing

A tortured soul

No, not mine, I'm pleased to say. I thought I'd try to do my 10 minutes of devotional music today (as per my Lenten resolutions), and decided to listen to a little Gesualdo. He was a fascinating man - and, indeed, a tortured soul - and his music is at times heart-breaking. Just the stuff for Lent, so I'm sitting here with the Antiques Roadshow on mute in the background, typing and listening to "Ave Regina Coelorum" at the moment. I may have problems with some of the theology behind much of the Marian devotional music from the Roman Catholic church, but fewer problems than I did, and it doesn't stop the music from moving me.

I had a chat with Edward from ERMC tonight, about placements. It seems that things have gone rather quiet, so he's picking up the baton. There's a problem with finding anything on the mental health side, where I'd been thinking about spending my non-ecclesial (or social) placement, and we've decided to look instead at a placement to do with death and dying - an area where I have very little experience, and which I'd already identified as needing work. We're going to see if we can find a suitable funeral directors or hospice who might take me on. I'm very happy about this, and look forward to seeing what we can sort out.

Went to church (Communion) today for the first time in weeks - I've been away, or ill, or both, and missed out, which I've not been happy about. Dad, Kate and I all went to the 0800 BCP service at Great Yeldham, which I was very pleased to have made. All in all, it's been a more theological weekend than I'd expected. Partly because my Dad, my Mum and Kate all read the draft of my personal assessement - which I'll also be discussing with Keith tomorrow, hopefully. They asked some interesting questions, and I feel that I've managed to make pretty much all the points I'd wanted to make in it. We also spent some time over supper and before discussing who we'd have on our "5 people for Lent" list (which I blogged on yesterday). This led to some interesting suggestions, including Judas (!), Luther, Pope John-Paul I (not the second), Bill Shankley, Rafa Benitez, Kevin Keegan (the last three from Mac, my father-in-law), Gerald Manley Hopkins (yeuch!), John Donne, Shakespeare and Johnny Cash. I urge you to try it with your family and friends - it was quite an interesting exercise to find out what people think that they _should_ be doing, and what they ought to saying!

Labels: death, ERMC, Lent, music

Baby Tommy

We heard today that baby Tommy died on Thursday. We know now more than that he was tired, and an inspiration to his parents. Please pray for them.

The fact that I'm still feeling ill rather pales into insignificance.

Labels: church, death, illness

No delight in death

They killed Saddam Hussein overnight. It was a legally and politically justified decision, I'm sure, but I can't take delight in it. I'm absolutely opposed to the death penalty, even when the guilt of the accused is without doubt, and the crimes are horrifying. But I struggle, struggle with the taking of a life - even in war, but yet more in situations such as this. I can't see that we have the right - I, at least, couldn't take it on myself, and I'm glad that our nation does not practice the death penalty, because as a citizen, I would be party to it.

Went to Digi's 2nd birthday party today: his parents are Tosha and Nik. Lots of people, and Jo had a good time, as did we. A really nasty drive back home - seriously bid rain and surface water on the road for much of it. Couldn't go above 35 for much of it. Money's not good at the moment. Heigh-ho. And I've got a nasty throat. If that's all we've got to complain about, though...

Labels: death, illness, money, party, responsibility

Ipswich

Christ is the prostitute, the working girl, the hooker, the drug addict.

Christ is the john, the trick, the punter.

Christ is the policeman, the detective, the filth.

Christ is the journalist, the cameraman, the presenter.

Christ is the viewer, the reader, the listener.

Christ is the father, the mother, the sister, the brother.

God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, dies every time we sin. Every time we fail to live up to the promise that is in us, every time we reject Him/Her, every time we look the other way, every time we watch without seeing, every time we read without understanding, every time we hear without listening. God is always already there, in the sin, in the pain, in the dying.

But Jesus rises in every kind word, in every attempt to help, in every moment of empathy, in every tear, in every penny freely given, in every smile loosed.

Labels: Christ, death, Ipswich, murder, prostitute, rape, resurrection