Fifteen Love

On June 25th 1994, fifteen years ago today, I was first ordained in Llandaff Cathedral. Here is a photo - surrounded by twenty good friends who came to cheer me on as I first ventured into Wales, knowing nothing of my new home country and pretty much the same of the life and ministry to which I was committing myself.

But I knew the Lord who was calling me. That was enough.

I see in that photo one friend who beat me into the ministry and at least five who followed me. There are two others who serve full time in ministry without being ordained, one as a missionary. At least two clergy wives, which is a more-than-full-time calling.

I see yesterday and wonder where it went; I see tears and laughter and triumphs and breakdowns and people and service and glory beyond words. I see a life lived that I would not swap for all the world.

I am grateful to be here. And to be going out tonight with friends from St Catherine's who want to be grateful with me. I've had a couple of lovely cards, and I'm a bit emotional. I pray there is far more to come than I can imagine; and that I shall have the common sense always to cling to Jesus so that I may last the course and do some good.

(The Next Day)

Fifteen of us (how apprpriate) went to the Grillhouse for steaks. Here are various photos. We were joined later by Dan & Gemma, who struggled to find it, hiding behind the Lanover.

I was really touched that everyone came out for the occasion, and we had a lovely time. Kev, who runs the place, is having his daughter christened with us in September, so it was doubly nice to hold the gathering there.

It made me remember some old stories. Joyce, Annamarie, Jane & Yvonne were clearly enjoying themselves enormously from the amount of laughter at their end of the table. "It's the Holy Spirit," I commented. (Not sure how true...) But that reminded me of taking communion in St John's Cymmer, year two of ordination.

I looked at the communion table as I was saying the communion prayer that morning, thinking to myself, "there's something odd about this, something not the same..." As we got to the Holy, holy, holy, I realised what it was. There was no bread & no wine there. I was consecrating thin air.

For a moment I wondered if anyone would notice; could I get away with just miming the whole thing? Then I spotted the bread & wine on a side table, so as we sang the Holy, holy I walked over to the side table, picked up the bread & wine, brought them back & placed them in a religious manner as if I had always intended to do it this way.

I would've got away with it too - if I hadn't looked up & seen Ange, the church warden, with an ear-to-ear grin on her face as she stood at the back of the small Valleys church. She'd seen right through me. And as I tried to continue the prayer, I giggled. "Terribly sorry," I said, paused, and tried again. But you know what it's like when you aren't supposed to laugh & you just can't help it? I did it again. I paused again. The third time, despite my pinching my fingers in order to produce pain to try & stop the laughter (I failed), one old lady, half way down the church turned to her neighbour, and in the loudest stage whisper imaginable said: "It's the Holy Spirit!"

And then I really did laugh out loud - and they joined in.

I take it back - I think when we have such pleasure in each other's company, such friendship & joy, then (though it may not be obvious at the time) maybe it really is the Holy Spirit after all. That memory is one of my fondest of that congregation - there's lots more to it, and I can still see the general joy on each face, and feel the wonder of that morning's worship. We take it for granted; but the gifts of God come in many shapes and sizes & are things for which we say "thank you" however they come.

So I say a fresh "thank you" for last night, and for those who came to bless me!

Singer of the World

I spent a couple of great evenings this week at the Cardiff Singer of the World competition (I know, it's a great title, isn't it). For those who may not be aware of it, it's one of the world's top singing competitions - we're talking opera, not American Idol - and, as you get from the title, it happens on the doorstep. I took Dick & Curly France last Monday night, when we saw Russian soprano Ekaterina Shcherbachenko (easy for you to say) win her round: she won the whole thing tonight, and was a worthy winner. Outstanding.

Her Gounod was great, her Stravinsky really quite something, but it was her Puccini that did it for me. I think that link will work for everyone, but the video may only be available in the UK. It is beautiful - beautiful. Apparently one of the BBC presenters couldn't speak afterwards because she was in tears - absolutely the right response, and if a competition entrant does that at this level, they deserve to win.

And Andy Murray won Queens. And England beat India. And the sun shone all day.

Don't spend it all at once

So this is it; we're finally seeing the back of Ronaldo. Fond memories, and eighty million reasons to find them sweeter in the recalling.

No-one is bigger than the team. This last season, at times, we have seemed like the CR7 supporters club: and when Ronnie has been in a bit of a mood, the whole side has failed to gel. The focus has been lost.

Don't get me wrong; the lad's a marvel. But in all honesty, I'm quite happy for him to be someone else's marvel if it means we can get back to being a better-balanced unit again.

The Real Deal? Certainly a good deal for us, well struck. Don't spend it all at once, Fergie.

Archiepiscopal Seal

Yesterday I had the privilege of hearing Rowan Williams (a great supporter of Salvation's Song) speak on the place of mission in the 21st Century. He gave an excellent exposition of Matthew 10.1-10 and Matthew 28.16-20 at the Intercontinental Church Society's Annual General Meeting. Here's my notes.

Where do we start in mission? We should start where God has already started - not wasting energy on things God is not doing, remembering mission is God's before it is ours.
What do we say? That God is nearer than you think - not distand & shy, needing to be introduced to people he doesn't know. He reminded us of Herbert's poem of Easter, which points out that God is always up first -
"Thou wast up by break of day/And brought thy sweet along with thee".
What are we doing? Bringing Christ-shaped change into every situation (healing, release, cleansing - transforming whole environments, not just beliefs).
Why do we do it? Gratitude! "Freely you have received, freely give!" We have received a gift that will not sit still in our hands.
How do we plan it? Initiative comes before resource, meaning that mission travels light. What we think we need sometimes stops us from responding to what people around us actually need.

And then -

Go. Mission travels, not expecting people to arrive. Mission is not just hyperactivity, hoping someone will notice. It asks questions - what do you need? Where is hunger?
Make disciples. Shape people who are willing to go on learning - bring people in and give them time. People are members of the body, not just and organisation.
Baptising them... Jesus immerses people in his life, sometimes before they fully understand everything. Doctrine is really important, but mission is not an exam to be passed. Relationship with Christ is a life, that leads to understanding.

We need to know this missionary God reaching out to us before we can reach out to others.

And from this Rowan gave 4 practical hints:
1. Good mission needs good local research.
2. Funding should be flexible.
3. Mission needs deep breaths and long views: a long term perspective and superhuman patience.
4. Mission needs a solid three dimensional liturgical life - teaching and symbol, making the rhythm of Christ's life second nature to us, the great story unfolding freshly year on year.

And yes - that really is him really holding a copy of Salvation's Song, which he describes as "a liberating and exciting book, which has the potential to open up some very new channels in mission." Here we are together, making the point clear:
Holiness is godliness in accessible humanity. Rowan is a wonderful, godly, holy man. His grasp and communication of Jesus is for me a golden thing. I think he has the worst job in the world, but is the best man in the world to hold it. It was a joy to see & hear him.

Incidentally, I was voted onto the ICS council - another privilege, and an honour. I had a great day, meeting Ambrose, a fellow Welsh man, Paul & Kay who I had spent time with one Wengen trip, and Nabil Shehadi, the ICS sponsored chaplain in the Lebanon; he describes his country as a cross between "club Med & world war three". To proclaim Christ there takes a special man - he seemed truly amazing to me.

Moral Victories?

The Tories won in Wales, & almost everywhere else, but with such a small percentage of the vote they'd have fewer MPs in Westminster than they do now if this was a General Election. UKIP beat Labour across the UK as a whole. The BNP have twice the Plaid Cymru representation in the new European Parliament. A third of the electorate bothered to turn out & vote.

Moral Victories? Across Europe, the far right advanced. Even Mosley's fascists never got elected to anything significant in the '30s, and this weekend saw something in our time and in our land that we might try to ignore - but we'd be foolish to dismiss.

Tell me I'm a fool to repeat my warnings about twelve years of diminishing civil liberties now. This doesn't mean anything. It's a protest vote. A fluke.

But if I was in power today, I'd be cancelling ID cards, restoring habeus corpus, and putting cast iron guarantees on every civil liberty I could think of. Because this weekend the unthinkable happened; and instead, all I hear of is individuals working out how it benefits them, and how to protect their power/advance their claim on power.

Does anybody actually care about society any more?

French Lesson

Dick France came to church today and took four sessions on how the Old & New Testaments work together. He was great!

We have never before done a day like this here - a day's Bible conference. And we certainly have never brought in anyone of Dick's standing to take such a day! The whole thing came about because Kirsty & Rhian have read a couple of Dick's commentaries and loved his work, and when we started to look at Hebrews in one of our groups, they recommended Dick's book. I said I'd organise for them to have tea with him if they were so keen, half as a joke - Dick was my principal at theological college, and is now retired in North Wales, and so I had his email somewhere. They replied - "Could we?" And I began to wonder if we could do a bit better than that...

I go to various conferences, and often hope that I'll be taught the Bible by someone who does a better job than I could. I often end up inspired & disappointed all at the same time - I hear great preachers who actually aren't great Bible teachers. But today I heard a great Bible teacher giving great Bible teaching.

(It's both the scope, the knowledge, the ease & the throwaway lines - Hebrews 11 verse 1 can be summed up as "look forwards & look up!")

I was hoping we'd get at least a dozen of our folk to give up a Saturday. Saturdays are precious, and I didn't know how exactly it would work. Two dozen came. Fantastic. And they loved it - at least, the ones who have emailed me so far!
Everyone pitched in - our catering team did a great job in keeping us well fed & watered through the day, and spiritually I feel totally energised.

It was quite high powered; Dick holds no prisoners & makes no apologies for presuming his listeners are intelligent. His clarity and openness to questions, and the way he took us through an amazing amount of stuff - in a totally different way to how I would have done - were all fantastic.

We'll do it again. If you missed it - watch out, we'll hold more of these. This was a first try. Next time, we'll open our doors a little wider!

Mah-ler-verlous

Thanks to George for the following:

As anyone who has seen a score of a Mahler Symphony knows, the music is simply littered with German directives. In the interest of finally enlightening musicians as to what the composer really means, someone wrote the following glossary of all common phrases (this was anonymously posted on the Chicago Symphony musician's bulletin board recently):

Langsam = Slowly

Schleppend = Slowly

Dampfer auf = Slowly

Mit Dampfer = Slowly

Allmahlich in das Hauptzeitmass ubergehen = do not look at conductor

Im Anfang sehr gemaechlich = in intense inner torment

Alle Betonunger sehr zart = with more intense inner torment

Getheilt = out of tune

Von hier an sehr allmaehlicher aber stetiger Steigerung bis zum
Zeichen = From this point on, the spit valves should be emptied with
ever-increasing emotion

Hier ist ein frisches belebtes Zeitmass eingetreten = Slowly

Hapttempto = Slowly

Noch ein wenig bechleunigend = slowing down with a sense of speeding up

immer noch zuruckhaltend = with steadily decreasing competence

sehr gemaechlich = With indescribably horrific inner torment

Etwas bewegter, aber immer noch ruhig = Somewhat louder, though more
inaudible than before

Gemaechlich = Intermission

Ganz unmerklich etwas zuruckhaltend = Slowly

Etwas gemaechlicher als zuvor = Slowly

Zurueckhaltend = Gesundheit

Von hier ab unmerklich breiter werden = As if wild animals were
gnawing on your liver

Ohne cresc. = Without toothpaste

Immer noch zurueckhaltend = slowly

Allmaehlich etwas lebhafter = Screaming in agony

Ohne Nachschlag = Without milk

Kraeftig bewegt = Slowly

Alle = Second violins tacet

Mit dem Holze zu streichen = like a hole in the head

mit Parodie = Viola solo

sehr einfach und schlicht = Slowly

Daempfer ab = eyes closed

Den ersten Ton scharf herausgegeben = Do not play until buzzer sounds

Am Griffbrett = As if in tune

Aeusserst zart aber ausdrucksvoll = Radiantly joyful despite the itching

Wieder zurueckhaltend = Increasingly decreasing

Noch breiter als vorher = Better late than never

Nicht eilen - No eels

Allmaelich (unmerklich) etwas zuruckhaltend - Much faster (slower)
than conductor

Lang gestrichen = Heads Up

Lang gezogen = Heads down

Die ^ werden allmaehlich staerker und staerker bis zum fp = In the event
of a water landing, your seat cushion can be used as flotation device

A-greed?

Rowan Williams is quoted in The Times as seeing the ongoing humiliation of MPs over the expenses row as being damaging to our democracy.

Is he right?

Agreed? Or just greed?

I think this is a very difficult subject, but I am inclined to go with Rowan. For what it's worth, a Parliamentary Democracy is what we have; and that means we rely on flawed people to operate it. Those who do real wrong should be made to pay back their ill-gotten gains and prevented from standing again... yes... but...

If we want paragons to populate Parliament, I'm sorry but I don't think there are 650 of them in the country. Never mind 2,600 so we can have meaningful elections & actually choose between them. And that's presuming that party machinery would actually choose those amazingly virtuous and always flawless people who would never do any wrong no matter what the circumstances, rather than people who had served their parties and impressed at selection meetings. That's right - these candidates need to be morally pure as the driven snow, able to resonate with the common voter, and communicate on TV like a seasoned actor but with the impassioned realism of Barack Obama.

I take it back. 650 of them? I don't think there are 20.

What we do want is accountability. But the drip-drip-drip of the Telegraph's revelations is not accountability. It is trial by Newsprint. It robs us of the rule of Parliament, which is how we are rightly governed and replaces it with rule by unelected media and by mob sentiment whipped up by said media.

Ultimately, David Cameron is right: an election will end this. But right now, I think he is wrong. An election today would be won on the whim of the press, not the merits of the case or the needs of the country. (I grant the press often influences elections - but this is exceptionally open to being the case right now.) A low turn out (due to voter disenchantment) favours radical parties (the BNP will always vote) and so skews results. I am not sure the BNP are the paragons for whom we seek.

So we are reminded by St Paul in 1 Timothy 2 to pray for all in authority "that we may live peaceful and quiet lives in all godlines and holiness". He was urging them to pray for Nero, who, I think it fair to say, was not many people's picture of an ideal ruler. We should heed St Paul & take our responsibility seriously. These are men & women at Westminster, not monsters. Men & women many of whom have done no wrong and all of whom have been tarred with the same brush. And even those who have sinned - are they so evil they are beyond forgiveness? Elections make for reckonings. Newspapers inform, but must never (because they are not, repeat NOT unbiased in themselves) take up the mantle of rule.

And I will side with Rowan. Enough of this. I prefer democracy. Not the mob. Not the bully. The ballot box, not the firing squad, no matter who pulls the trigger.

Because if we let anyone suffer that firing squad, eventually somebody will be holding a gun at us.

Going Up

JD Walt has an interesting post asking about the point of the Ascension. We get this strange story at the start of Acts where Jesus is "taken up" from their sight, hidden by a cloud, and the disciples are left looking up into the sky. Why? What does it mean?

The Reformers struggled with it. Finding it important, but not really saying why, they gave it a place of honour and confusion in some of the great statements of Protestant Faith. The Westminster Catechism says:

He ascended into heaven, and there sits at the right hand of His Father, making intercession. So why the aeronautics? Is heaven in the sky?

The Heidelberg Catechism (always a favourite of mine - I was caught out on this at my interview for Oxford a million years ago) tries harder:

Christ, before the eyes of His disciples, was taken up from the earth into heaven, and that He is there for our benefit until He comes again to judge the living and the dead. I'm glad it's for our benefit; but how exactly? I mean - how exactly is all that floaty floaty stuff for our benefit? Well, it asks this question (not in those precise words, you'll understand) and answers:

First, He is our Advocate in heaven before His Father. Second, we have our flesh in heaven as a sure pledge that He, our Head, will also take us, His members, up to Himself. Third, He sends us His Spirit. Now I think that something important is being said here - especially in the second item, though it sounds a bit clinical for my tastes in this version, and I'd like a bit more majesty in my theology. So I want to tease this out a little.

You see, I think the Ascension is one of those events that is a "beyond words" event. Like Pentecost. Read Acts 2 - there was no mighty wind & tongues of fire, only things like the sound of a mighty wind and something that looked like tongues of fire. It was beyond words. Luke is describing the indescribable. And so it is the same in Acts 1: Jesus is "taken up" or "ascended" - but the same word in John 17.1 means he "lifted up" his eyes, and in Acts 2.14 it means Peter "raised" his voice. As for the cloud that "hid" Jesus, the same word means "assume" or "suppose" in Acts 2.15. My point is - we have difficult, compressed, complex pictorial language describing something experience can't easily compartmentalise; and we reduce it the picture at the top of this post to our peril.

Because then we lose the point, as we try pointlessly to cling on to Jesus' sandals, and end up staring with the eleven into the space where he was rather than seeing with wonder the glory of the creation he now fills - but differently.

John 1. The great prologue. In the beginning was the Word. Jesus, the Son, with the Father & the Spirit from all eternity. Trinity 1-0-1. Colossians 1.15 and following - he is before all things - the creator with the Father. Hebrews 1. The Son is the radiance of God's glory and the exact representation of his being, sustaining all things by his powerful word. But look how Hebrews continues at that point:

After he had provided purification for sins he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty in heaven. He goes back to the Father. Returns home. But the Ascension says -

He goes home different to how he left.

He left heaven as God. God the Son. The Second person. The Word.

He returns as God. God the Son. The Second person. The Word. In human flesh. Glorious, resurrected, perfected human flesh. But human. When he leaves the disciples he makes it clear - he does not change out of his final fleshly suit and with relief go, "thank God that's over". He returns home fully God and fully man.

The Ascension assures us that God's love is not temporary, not for a season, not here today and gone tomorrow. But that our humanity is wonderfully, strangely, unimaginably at the heart of our God. The difference between bacon & eggs at the heart of God. (Bacon, you understand, for the pig, being real commitment; eggs for the chicken not quite so much.) His love is totally committed to you and to me; he wasn't wearing it on his sleeve, he wasn't wearing it at all. It was for real, and for always. There is a part of Almighty eternal God, Lord of all Creation, Maker of all things that is ever and always human.

Now if that isn't worth us stopping and celebrating and dropping our jaws and giving thanks for, I'm not sure what is.

Bohemian Rhapsody

Welsh National Opera's La Boheme is a fairly trad staging of a fairly indestructible opera. No gimmicks, just the drama. And tonight at the WMC in Cardiff I treated myself to a front row seat and to a little magic.

I cannot say how many times I have seen this particular opera. Too many times. And yet, when sung as beautifully as this, not enough. I could go again tomorrow. Gwyn Hughes Jones, Rebecca Evans & Jason Howard, three Welsh principals, were outstanding, with Gwyn Hughes Jones' simply one of the best Rodolfo's I have seen anywhere - and I've seen them in lots of places!

It's not just the wonderfully Italiante ping in his voice, or the strength it holds in the upper register (that high 'B' in the Act 1 aria held long enough and emotionally enough to give Pavarotti a run for his money) - I just don't think I can remember an opera singer who acts that well on stage. I saw him years ago at the Royal Opera House, when Roberto Alagna was debuting as Romeo in Gounod's R&J, and I recall thinking then that if Roberto Alagna hadn't been in the cast I'd have been really impressed with him. That must have been 15 years ago. And he has got better. Truly, a great singer - a worthy successor for a nation that in Dennis O'Neill has had a world class tenor.

Rebeccas Evans grew on me. At first I found her too creamy for Mimi. But she beautifully held back her voice, allowed the music to do its work without histrionics, and drew me in. Just lovely.

I saw Jason Howard in this production in 93. I remember enjoying him - but this is better. A more world-weary Marcello, a less youthful one (which is perhaps a loss) but better sung and a good foil for GHJ.

All three sing throughout Europe and North America. GHJ has apparently sung Puccini leads under Placido Domingo's baton in Los Angeles. I can understand why he would choose him.

Glorious. Not perfect - the Musetta was a bit underpowered, and as I read her biog, she clearly does a different repertoire, Rossini, Mozart, Donizetti, and I can see that this would suit her brittle tone. Puccini is not, I think, natural territory for her. And the conductor at times was not always communicating with the band; I'm not used to hearing fluffs at the WNO, and there were a couple of them - at significant points, and occasional slips between the timing of the singing and the playing in the big scenes. (Incidentally, if the cor anglais player really did fall asleep - you were spotted. It was the embarassment in your eyes after you woke up that gave you away.)

The heart of La Boheme is Act Three. Mimi & Marcello, the trio that follows, Mimi & Rodolfo, and the final quartet. It wasn't perfect. The final quartet had timing issues. But everything else - well, as I say, those three singers were amazing. Amazing. I was genuinely swept up in the sheer thrill of it. Opera being what opera should be: powerful and glorious. I'd pay good money to hear singing like that, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, my lips smile with sad joy, my eyes moisten under the emotional weight of it all. Actually, I did pay good money! No I didn't - £27 for a front row seat - it was daylight giveaway.

The Breast is Yet to Come

Derek read the Old Testament reading at Cafe Church tonight. Song of Solomon, chapter eight, verses six and seven. Wonderful, classic, resounding, resonant verses.

Unfortunately, and the preachers amongst you will appreciate this, for some reason, he decided to continue and also read verse eight.

Go on. Look it up. No, you can't quite draw it to mind, and I don't think you've heard a sermon on it lately. It's OK, I'll wait whilst you pull out your Bible. Or just click here for all three verses.

Glory. But you should have seen Derek's face as he realised what he was reading...

Quires & Places

Driving along a motorway as your team clinch their eighteenth championship, listening to every kick of the ball on the radio, needing a point but the score is at nil-nil and the opposition is pressing - let me tell you, this is not good for the heart. I felt in need of medical attention. But victory is its own cordial, and so three in a row titles for United at last brought the tension to an end, and I punched the air with delight.

I was driving to Oxford, to a concert for friends of the new Choral Foundation at Merton, my undergraduate college. Pretty soon now I will have lived longer here in Ponty than I lived in Oxford. It's hard to say exactly when such a turning point happens, but we'll perhaps make it on my ordination anniversary. Going back is always lovely, but it is no longer 'home' in any real sense, much as I like to visit.

Still, seeing friends anywhere is a joy. Miles came to the concert with me. And also at the concert were Steve and Jackie Gunn, who were always in Oxford. Steve is now head of history at Merton & subwarden. (That means more there than here!) And Jackie used to play flute in a little orchestra I ran way back when. My old head of history was there- but disappeared before I caught up with him.

The choir? At times excellent, at times a work in progress, I felt. Sometimes I wanted more extremes and less reserve - the louds to be genuinely spine tingling, the softs to be imperceptible; mostly, I was left wanting. A new piece, receiving its first performance on John 1 was very good, as was a Taverner item (really - that was the best). The second half faded; and the Tippett 5 Negro Spirituals are not ideal fodder for an Oxbridge choir.

All of it was far, far better than the radio on the way back. Eurovision is a TV feast. When all you have is the music, it is really dull. Though the only vaguely interesting song won. Perhaps most of Europe was also tuned into their wireless...

Glory, Glory

Nuff said.

Out of this World

The Times gives a five star review. I'm tempted to concur. Only the slightly rushed ending made me wonder...

It's great to see something iconic be iconic. Nothing can replace what is past, but what is new has no worries about looking over its shoulder - it is itself, and gloriously so. Chris Pine, my main worry - is fantastic as Kirk, and only once does any kind of Shatner reference (right at the end). Cesc Fabregas is a very emotional and conflicted Spock, but then the very early original series episodes have him far more emotional too. Leonard Nimoy looks 159, but brings a nice turning point and a real surprise on his appearance. The rest of the cast is great (Chekov - comedy accent of the year; Simon Pegg - underused but first rate) and the pacing and the adventure and the sheer fun of it all -

Yep. Not a Slumdog, you understand, and maybe a half point under, but I really am tempted to give it the full five.

And I'm going back tonight with Andy Sowerby to see it again.

(later)

You know, it was as much fun second time around. There's a nice bit of video on the Telegraph site where JJ Abrams says it should be fun & you want to get straight back in line when you've seen it. Job done. There are moments of real beauty (in the opening sequence, the USS Kelvin silently firing its guns into space) though several of the space shots are breathtaking. Pine's final rendition of the word "Bones" was gloriously (and because it was at the end, forgiveably)Shatner-esque. The joke of Kirk not getting the girl, and being a bit girlish in his fights was splendid. But then it's just the beginning...

At over two hours, it felt about 90 minutes long. We've all sat through films that have seemed the other way around. And yes, I expect, though not today, I'll do it again. Unashamedly I am a Star Trek fan. But when a movie is this good, it just goes to show what the Star Wars prequels were not.

PS For a review in Klingon, click here.

Fly Emirates

Glorious, glorious. The dog & I danced for joy at the sight of the crowd flying the Emirates as United's third goal (a thing of footballing beauty - Arsenal take a corner, Ronaldo intercepts, passes to Park who strokes it to Rooney who runs, and with an open goal at the far end of the park passes it back to - Ronaldo, who scores, all in 13 seconds) puts the defending Champions back in the final. Glorious.

There has to be injustice of course. And Fletcher bore it. Hopefully the amazingly awful UEFA will allow him to play; or maybe not - his team-mates will play for him, and bring home an unrivalled back-to-back victory.

And here is the defeated Arsene Wenger, consoling his captain, Sylar. Is anyone else worried that Sylar plays for Arsenal? I mean. It's some foul to open your opponent's forehead and leave them bleeding on the ground, all their skills taken from them. And even having done that - to lose.

The Fast Lane

Join Life in the Fast Lane! During May 2009 all of us at St Catherine's are encouraged to take part in a Fast and to pray in order to see God provide for us as we look to our Church Hall vision become a reality. It's not just a building we want to equip - it's a work in our community that will change people's lives, providing for children and their parents, and beginning something new amongst the elderly which will make life better, and ultimately offer God's love practically and effectively. So what's it about, and how can we all be a part of it?

1. Commit to praying for the money we need to make the work on the hall a reality (around £700,000 for the building, and a further £150,000 for salaries and expenses)
2. Choose something important in your regular routine (like drinking coffee, or using the internet, or watching TV, or reading the paper or eating something unhealthy, or anything like this!) and during the month of May, once or twice a week give it up
3. On those days, whenever you think about your coffee or internet or TV or whatever – take the hint and instead pray for the Lord to bless the work we want to do on the hall, and to grant us all the finance and help we need
4. Don’t tell anyone what you are doing (look up what Jesus says in Matthew 6.16-21) unless you absolutely have to tell one person so they can remind you to do your fast! But on Pentecost, the last day of May, we will celebrate how the Lord has answered our prayers.

Let’s all join together as a church family in playing our part in praying for God to bless us, and trusting that he will answer us & provide for our every need. It's not Marcus as our vicar, or Esther doing her work as fundraiser, or even the grant bodies we are depending on: the Lord is our provider. We will trust in Him!

Home Again

A chance to hear Ben's bands at school took up most of my final full day in Florida. I have spoken before of my admiration for the American music education system, and I say it again. Ben's teacher, Mr Leahy, does a fantastic job. These kids have a great experience, and some of them end up playing the best part of two hours a day at school. That's a great start for them.

The picture is the jazz band, and Ben is on the far left, on guitar. I think it fair to say that the Advanced Wind Band is Mr Leahy's pride & joy, but he does a great job with this band too. With the Advanced band, the 12 & 13 year olds are playing music way beyond their years, and doing an amazing job. With this band, they get to try new rhythms & even to extemporise. Wow. That's something I never got the chance to do at my school!

Then a smooth flight back to England (I slept most of the way), a brief visit with Mum after Dad picked me up at the airport, and on Friday morning Matt & I came back home.

Honestly - I had been so relaxed on holiday I wasn't sure I wanted to come back! But as I crossed the bridge into Pontypridd, I had that indefinable shiver up my spine, that sense of homecoming, that surprising delight in being where I am supposed to be. I was glad to be here. And I was glad to be glad! Returning home after a wonderful trip away is also one of life's great joys.

Even if the garden has become a forest in my absence! This is after a duel between lawnmower & field had taken place... Not to mention climbing up the church clocktower to put it right by the half hour it had gained in the last two weeks...

Fair Play

Fair play, as they say in Pontypridd, the talk at church today was far better than last week. I still found the backdrop disturbing, and I guess I knew what was coming as far as the order of service was concerned.

Gluttony was the subject. It was still an "advice" sermon, but there was far more Scripture, and even a note of forgiveness. (If I am being picky, there was a stress on confession coming before forgiveness which is an interesting debate but not for now.)

What was excellent about the talk was the line that fasting was the antidote to gluttony. We should recognise the fault within ourselves and then be pro-active in not only seeking forgiveness but in acting to change things. Fasting was seen not as a negative abstention-for-abstention's-sake action, but as a spiritual activity, a taking on prayer and drawing closer to God instead of doing something else. So you can fast from anything that regularly takes to much time or forms too great a part of your life. Chocolate. Coffee. The internet. TV. Solid food (for a day - it's possible). Sports on TV. Video games. Magazines. Shopping. Make your own list.

But not just in a "I guess I should do these less" way - in a "I will give this up for a day in order to use the time I would normally give to coffee/shopping/the internet to praying for something specific". How about a fasting challenge for St Catherine's? We need all these grants for the work on the hall and for extra salaries: how about we all take on a fasting challenge and pray for them as we do so?

Remembering of course Matthew 6. Verse 16 reminds us: When you fast, do not look sombre as the hypocrites do, for they disfigure their faces to show men they are fasting. I tell you the truth, they have received their reward in full. So we don't go around telling everyone what we are doing and why. We don't make a fuss of it and show off our great spirituality. It is something we take on, and do seriously, but keep between ourselves and God.

But we also remember verses 17-18: But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face, so that it will not be obvious to men that you are fasting, but only to your Father, who is unseen; and your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you. He rewards those who earnestly and honestly seek him. It's a promise we would do well to lean on and trust.

Five Two

At 2-0 down, with half-time looming, Gill said, "That's not good". "No worries," I replied, remembering watching United come from 3-0 down to Spurs eight years ago and beat them 5-3. "We'll win 4-2".

I watched that game on Match of the Day at Chris Holmwood's. And as we shipped three goals, I remained upbeat about the result, and he, a Hammers fan, had an inner envy at the assurance of the United fan in the face of adversity. Of course, I'd seen the full-time results earlier, before the highlights show, and he didn't know this. Oh well.

But this time I was watching the game 'live', and still had that certainty, with that memory playing large in my mind. As it turned out, the memory should have played larger.

4-2 was pessimistic. In 23 glorious minutes, United put five past Spurs, who were helpless to stop the Champions' onslaught. And surely United will be Champions again now.

With 5 games left we need a maximum of 10 points out of 15 available. With 4 games left, Liverpool have only 12 points they could possibly score in order to make us need 10. I'm with the boys in the photo.

Since my mid-twenties, United have been the dominant force in English football. It ain't over yet.

And you may well look disturbed by this, Mr Mascherano, as may all your Merseyside colleagues, but there is as little point arguing with facts as with the ref.

Past and Present

I have only two images of Charlie on this computer. The classic, Charlie in the snow, and a family snap shot with the whole menagerie, circa 1993 - Mum, Gill, me, Heidi the Weimeraner, and Cherokee & Bradshaw the Persian cats. Charlie died seven years ago this week. Seems like forever. Seems like yesterday.

That dog could make you laugh & cry and he loved everyone, and everyone loved Charlie. He was remarkable. The snow photo: he loved snow. But that day - when I opened the door, the snow was deeper than he was, and as he disappeared into it, he jumped up with a confused look on his face, and then he just set to enjoying it. We were snowed in, in Croeserw. Later, he was bedraggled and dripping with ice, and still loving every second. Living with him brought unexpected joy every day.

Matty is a totally different beast; not so prolific with his affections to the population at large, his gentle soul has done the impossible and worked its way even deeper into mine. He is the most affectionate animal - but I think only to me. The rest of you have to take my word that the slightly shy and diffident dog you see is far from the whole story. There is a whole different Matty waiting for you to leave, which is why he is pleased to see you, and to see you go!

And this is Ben with Martha. I think Martha & Matty are very similar. She won't come to me. I've been here over a week, and she's come close once. But with Ben - she's all over him. And Gill tells me she is the most loving cat. Here she is, cuddling a can of Mountain Dew. I believe Gill.

I still miss the most sociable animal ever. And have in his place a remarkably different one, so similar on the outside, occupying just as much of my heart.