Hacked Off

I got an email message from a friend - a musician friend, someone I got back in touch with through MySpace. Asked me to check my MySpace site. Thought I might have been hacked. And there on the site were two other messages - one from someone I don't know, one from someone I'd seen after he'd left the message, but who hadn't mentioned it when he saw me.

The bulletin feature had sent out a link to a porn site. From me.

Yep, I reckon that's a hack.

Now - changing a password is easy enough to stop that going on too much. But you do start wondering all sorts of things. I have anti-virus, spyware, anti-hacker protection. The password is not anywhere on the site. How did they do it? How did they get my password? Just as a precaution I have rotated a number of passwords across a number of sites as a result.

They only did one thing. I think. One mildly embarrassing thing. A useful reminder these things happen.

And why did they do it? I have 70 friends on MySpace: how much bother was it to find a password and then send out a bulletin to 70 people? If I'd had thousands of links, that would make a bit more sense, I guess. But to 70?

I guess they just weren't enjoying Christmas Eve telly.

So: if you got a link to a porn site from me the other day - I apologise, it wasn't me that sent it; though if it made your day, I'll keep your secret. Your comment won't get published!

Merry Christmas

... to one and all!

In my time-honoured fashion, I have left it far too late to send cards and write letters, so this is all you get- nothing to hang up or throw out, just a quick click and a browse through a festive greeting. Like you are really dying to hear about what I've done for the last twelve months.

And after all, what is a blog for if not to keep you up to date? So here on these pages are stories of doubts, triumphs and failure, stuff at church and big band gigs, weddings and holidays (none of the former my own, all of the latter definitely mine), meeting up with friends from past and present, home and abroad, and various kind people's responses to all the above. Feel free to add your own.

It has been a varied year. I'd love to proclaim unfettered joy and success, but that would be untrue. In my forties I find different certainties and doubts, which keeps life interesting. Migraines and depressive patches haven't been as prevalent, and general health has been on the up - could it be that lots of exercise and a healthy diet really are good for you? In church life I am grateful for new colleagues - Gill and Kirsty - who are superb, though saying farewell to Naomi was really hard, and there has also been a new dynamic of spiritual expectancy in healing and teaching. The Furnace at New Wine Cymru was an unexpected highlight of the year. In music, new opportunities keep opening up, notably with the National Big Band of Wales this year, but also with the small group stuff in and out of church. Though I often feel that jazz is most properly a young man's game, & I can only cling onto that by surrounding myself with kids these days & borrowing their energy...

I should say something profound and spiritual: and I think the most profound thing I can offer is this - thank you. Thank you for the friendship of years that this time of year brings to mind. Presents abound, and we give because God gave to us the most precious gift; but for me, in simply human terms, and though we may only share in it occasionally and even then for some of us who live far apart mediated by the wonders of email and internet, the fact that you read down to here says an awful lot about our friendship. Thank you.

Nadolig llawen. Come visit. Peace be with you.

It's Snowing!

Though you might need Broadband to see it...
Click here!

More Big Band Gospel

Just to say that I've now heard Byron's audio recording of the Big Band Gospel concert - and it's the best recording of a "live" event I've heard for ages.

I've posted one track from it on my audio songs window on my MySpace page. When you go there, something will start playing - but click on "Fly Me To The Moon" (one of the two none-Gospel tracks I sang!) and have a listen. The National Big Band of Wales sound great, and I don't think I spoil things either!

Enjoy!

Many, Many Pleasures

So I got a comment from "MMP" and didn't know who this was.

Who did I know with those initials?

Well. MMP wrote another comment, and this time I had the common sense to click on MMP and trace back to their blog, entitled The Muddled Market Place. MMP. Not their real name! But instantly recognisable, and a pure pleasure - Camillofan you need to go there: it kind of looks like Pleasant View School House, but all skewed and turned on its side, and made real. It is a total joy, and made me smile for ages.

The fact that I know MMP really well made it all the better, but I commend this site to all my friends - a wonderful & unpredictable read!

The picture - just a random pull off the site. You'll find city streets and roses jostling for position. Or this; from this entry, as a taster. Enjoy!

another year

After the grand celebrations of last year, this was always going to risk being a let down.

Still, past the decade year. Though as my cousin-in-law Simon says, I will try not to start looking forwards to my next just yet.

The photo is Matty & I in the garden at the end of the afternoon today; we had a good walk in the sunshine this morning, & then I went down to the Millennium Centre in the Bay to enjoy a piano recital (Chopin & Schubert) at lunchtime by Richard Lewis, music director at the big Pentecostal church in Cardiff. (Kirsty asked: which Schubert? Franz, I replied.) Dan, Kirsty, Matthew & Flo Jones joined me there, and Richard was excellent.

On my way down there I popped in to have communion with a parishioner, 92 years old, housebound, suffering from cancer, not on great form. It was lovely to pray with her and to see her visibly perk up as we prayed and as the Spirit touched her. She smiled for the first time as we stopped praying. Bless her, she doesn't deserve this pain.

And on my way back I called at the Heath hospital to see another member of the church, in her late eighties, suffering from some form of dementure and having had a recent hip replacement. Last time I called she had no idea who I was; this time I don't think she could quite place me in time, but she got my name right, and we prayed together - she remembering all the Lord's prayer, and being delighted to see me on my birthday. It quite made my day.

Big Band Gospel Video

So here we are!


That's "Everything to Me" from last Saturday's Big Band Gospel concert. Me, Gareth Roberts and the trombones of the National Big Band of Wales. The song is on the "Every Breath" CD, but just with rhythm section and trombone solo; the section writing was new for this concert, and I was quite pleased with it!

You'd like more? Try this:




"Jesus is the Name we Honour", also from "Every Breath, but slightly re-arranged, as the original had an unplayable trumpet part! Well, it was playable by the incomparable Andy Greenwood, and even then on a recording where he took a good run up.

And I think you should see the band without some guy in black out front taking the limelight. Here's "Be Still Me Soul", a Ralph Carmichael arrangement of the hymn tune based on Sibelius' Finlandia. Who said Finns can't swing?

Big Band Gospel

Here I am, singing last night in Cardiff with the National Big Band of Wales, at a concert entitled "Big Band Gospel".

Byron Jenkins, who gets the guys together, is orchestra manager of the BBC National Orchestra of Wales and this is the second concert he has organised like this - a big band gig, using members of the BBC NOW plus friends from the Cardiff jazz scene & one or two Salvation Army players, playing swinging arrangements of hymns and gospel songs to raise money for charity. This time the chosen charity was the Isubilo project in Zambia, and the concert raised something in the region of £1200, as all the ticket money goes straight there - everyone performing giving their time for free.

I need to say a few words about Byron. He is a star. Unassuming, humble, effective as anything, his enthusiasm and knowledge of the music is infectious. And his gentle love for Jesus inspires him to share his faith through the music with as many as will listen. Gold-dust. It seemed to me that the guys in the band responded warmly because he never lost his cool or came all heavy, he just got on with things, knew his stuff and did what needed to be done with great grace and good humour.

The band was fabulous. At the second rehearsal I missed a couple of entries cos I was enjoying listening to them so much I forgot to focus on my job! The classical guys - great precision and attention to detail; the jazz guys - adding much of the soloing and the zing in the swing. I love working with such pros - real musicians don't vaunt themselves and tell you how good they are; they don't need to.

It was a total privilege to be involved.

I loved singing with them. Two of my songs were from the "Every Breath" CD - a slightly re-arranged "Jesus is the Name We Honour" (but still with most of that high trumpet part! Thanks Andy Everton et al); and a new arrangement of "Everything to Me" for the whole trombone section, which was a real highlight for me - gentle mid-tempo swing, perfectly placed, doing just what I was aiming at. I loved singing with Byron conducting - so reliable, so easy to work with. A joy. And I felt wonderfully relaxed and able both to worship and perform all at the same time.

Two songs were Denver and the Mile High Orchestra tunes - "Blessed Assurance" and "Jingle Bells". Pure fun. One was a gospel track, "Cabin in the Corner", and finally a standard - "Fly Me To The Moon".

I broke two mike stands. One in rehearsal. One in the show. Oops. I am a very physical performer, you know.

What a joy. What a blessing. The crowd seemed to love it. The band certainly enjoyed themselves. I got to meet some wonderful new people and to have the most fantastic experience of performing with these guys.

And my heart is filled with thanks. Thank you Jesus. Thank you, thank you. Just wonderful.

Bittersweet? No, just bitter

Going, going, gone.

Out of Euro 2008.

Like many England fans, the thought was bittersweet; I mean, even if it was unthinkable that we should miss the competition, at least surely this way we will be rid of the worst England manager we've ever had?

When the team took to the pitch, it was typical McClaren England. Men out of position, a new formation we've never played for a major match, new players who've not played before in a key game. It had disaster written all over it. My pre-match prediction was 2-1 to Croatia.

Croatia were 2-0 up in 15 minutes. We were dire.

But when we eventually equalised I was ecstatic. Blow McClaren. I am an England fan. I want us to qualify. I want us to be at the championships next summer. Beckham back in the team, things starting to work, belief rising -

Then wham.

The third Croatian goal.

I hope McClaren goes; I'm sure he's a great guy - just a hapless England manager. But the hope that he goes does not make this result bittersweet.

I'm an England fan. It is still just bitter.

Past & Present Touching

I love this photo, from The Times.

Marking HMQ & the DofE's Diamond Wedding celebrations, they have found two photos that mirror each other perfectly. Though it seems to me that HMQ was less sure of herself in her younger days and rather more in control now!

And knowing some are quick to speak of failings in a public union, I do feel that we who are far from the depths and heights of any other person's intimate lives should refrain from a temptation to judge others; I find this emblem of commitment and love strangely touching.

Tracing Rainbows

Reading JD Walt's blog I came across a link to another blog by Mark Benjamin. I met Mark in Asbury Seminary a couple of years ago; he led worship the day I preached in chapel there.

This article brought tears to my eyes. I found it profoundly moving. Have a read and see if it speaks to you.

A Good Day

A good day!

Bruce Collins, from New Wine Cymru, came to preach here this morning, and brought some friends to pray with people during (and after) the service.

I do like Bruce - though his style occasionally scatter guns provocative thoughts round the room without pausing to check the damage (I could sense odd gasps from one or two folk), his focus is pure gold. And he gave us a great sense of expectancy in coming to Jesus for a touch of his Kingdom breaking into our lives today. Not just when we die - but real change, real healing, real authority here and now. On earth as in heaven.

His simple and engaging manner is wonderfully unthreatening, and people genuinely warmed to him. Those who queued for prayer took me by surprise - not just the usual suspects. And at this evening's service, four people spoke of real answers to those prayers - two healings, there and then (both back related - and even if they prove to be temporary relief, that was great; I hope we will see more than that) and two more inner concerns, but again met by a deep sense of the presence of God touching them and meeting them as they prayed.

To see this in our 11am service was wonderful. I always feel that a basic rule of thumb as to how much people have sensed God in a service is how quick they are out of the door: if they all run, it wasn't great; if they linger, it is because they sense Jesus here and can't bear to go. We finished way over time, and no-one left.

Though I did suggest to someone who came late and and whose car may have been blocking people in that they stayed for prayer, so that may have had an effect...

Afterwards, one couple who came with Bruce told me of two images they had about the life of the church here, and I record them on this page as much for my memory as for your information. But both struck me deeply.

The first saw the church held in cotton wool, and wondered what this was. They thought it might be that we needed care, and then saw it as showing what a place of care and gentleness the church offered.

But when they looked again, they saw that the cotton wool was in fact ermine, the base of a crown, and that this gentleness was also authority given and the power of the Lord to bless.

All through the service they had been struck by the love of the Lord in this place, and the way God's love shone through the worship. I pray that we may indeed be a gentle place of power, the Lord's servant heart shining through us to do his work here. And we will cast our golden crowns down before him, for he alone is worthy.

The second image was of a herald standing on the altar, raising a trumpet to his lips, and proclaiming God's Kingdom in our midst. We then, as a congregation, lifted the herald up, and took him out of the church into the streets of Pontypridd.

Well, I think that the lady who told me this probably wasn't aware that my head was going - that's a great understanding of euaggelion, the Greek word from which we get our word "Gospel". In St Paul's day, the "Gospel" was the announcing by a herald of the reign of a new emperor, and the idea that we have that reign proclaimed in our midst as we worship, and then we take that out from our corporate worship to our daily lives to see people affected by the reign of God around us - this is the mission of our church.

Worship, evangelism (euaggelion), compassion.


Footnote.
So I've been wrestling with stuff, as regulars know. But that Jacob story has blessing in it; and so, my friends, does mine.

Waiting for Heroes - a life in microcosm

So it's Wednesday evening and I'm waiting for Heroes to start on BBC3. We're near the end of the first season, and it's getting all exciting as the story starts to warm up to its finale.

I've enjoyed the ark of the tale, the development of characters, the basic premise and especially the pacing which has really increased in the last few weeks.

But as I'm waiting there is a programme about kids doing a talent show for aspiring classical musicians, and despite myself I get caught up in it, It's the final. There's a basoonist (like she stood a chance), a guitarist (the definition of geek in the musical world), and a pianist with a long green dress, long red hair, and a deft, romantic touch at the keyboard.

Hardly a fair competition.

Anyway, the pianist played the Shostakovich Second Piano Concerto - or at least we got to see edited highlights. Very well edited too. And I simply fell in love with the piece. There's a ballet suite by Shostakovich I love - I think it's number 4, the introduction is one of my all time favourite pieces - but on the whole I hardly rate him as someone I'd go out of my way to listen to.

And here I am, waiting for Heroes, sci-fi on TV, and finding one of the most beautiful things in music I have ever come across via a talent show.

If only it had football and Jesus in it it would be my life in microcosm.

Wrestling - further thoughts

I think I dismissed a comment from Richard too quickly the other day. He made an analogy with Wayne Rooney going through a goal drought in games but scoring freely on the practice pitch, and his point was that if we walk with Jesus day by day in the private place - if we wrestle with God when & where no-one sees - then everything else will follow. Wayne Rooney started to score again in matches.

And I am grateful for the prayers of friends and for a nature that is stubborn, and for a God more stubborn still who does not let go.

In my private moments I am reading "The Way In is the Way On", a collection of John Wimber writings to mark the tenth anniversary of his death this year. He remains I think my favourite Bible teacher, and I commend this super little book. I am only two chapters in, but I am so restored by what I am reading I cannot say. He faces my weaknesses and failings head on with a humanity and wisdom that is wonderfully godly and biblical, seeing into my heart and giving me sight of how to walk forwards from here.

To paraphrase a couple of the things which have so far struck home:

A pastor's call is not to succeed but to serve.

I got here by being forgiven, and I'll only get any further by the same route. The way in is the way on.

The book is filled with simple truths simply taught with great authority. I loved listening to John Wimber in person when I had the chance, and this book is reminding me why. He brings me closer to Jesus than most other preachers I know, and he does it be opening the Scriptures wide and clear. I miss this voice, and this book is a treat, the treat I need just now.

By the way - Richard is right. And Wimber makes the same point, though he uses more straightforwardly Biblical language and doesn't refer to Wayne Rooney:

"The results of our abiding haven't been tallied yet; however, they are being developed. The tabs are being taken daily... Day by day, week by week, and year by year, God is making something beautiful out of you and me. He is producing in us the character, qualities and fruit of our Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ...

"This is not primarily a theological discussion, but an active decision and habit of the heart."

Little Glimpses of Heaven

So I went to see Harry Connick Jr in concert at the Royal Albert Hall. Enormously pricey tickets. Great seats. Jazz has never looked so expensive - I mean, this is how jazz looks in the movies, but not in real life! Perfect spotlights cutting through the general blue haze around each soloist and putting the rest of the stage in darkness, with Harry in a follow spot so well drawn it was cartoon-like.

And jazz it was - unlike Buble who puts on an easy-listening set with his faux-big band, Harry's slightly smaller line-up (nine horns, upright bass, drums, Harry at the piano and a guest trombone soloist) was simply a very classy jazz gig. I think probably to the shock of some of the crowd - cos the CDs recently get a bit on the pop side. But even the most contemporary tracks on the CD get a makeover "live" and become jazzy, or jazz-funky, or even slightly avant garde...

Glorious.

Because it was great. Fantastic playing, immense soloing, good band work (occasionally swamped by a mix that was piano heavy) - and then Harry.

Not here the sheen and flawless perfection of Buble. But the flaws are part of the joy. The quality is in the character. The depth of musicianship. The understanding & intelligence of it all. Little glimpses of heaven in the constant riches of layers of musicality and brilliance. I loved it.

Highlights? Come By Me, Sleepy Time Down South (wow!), a frenetic Bourbon Street Parade, and then after the band had left the stage a typical encore - just the bass and the tenor sax and Harry's voice for It Had To Be You (well, it had to be, didn't it?) and stripped bare we had everything we needed and a nostalgia trip added as a bonus.

It will be a while before I see gig this good.

The video clip is from Canada three years ago. But you have to see the guy in person. Film does not begin to convey the magic. And if you have the chance - take it. I would go again right now.

Wrestling

Jacob wrestles with the angel. He is across the river from his wives and people. Some don't notice. Some gawp. Some feel the separation. One or two pray for him. One or two are embarrassed.

He is by himself with God, but not alone. Never so solitary and never so supported. Afraid and loved. He will now always bear the mark of this encounter in his body and in his naming. People will call him differently because of this struggle. (Though few - that day to this - will comprehend what went on or why.)

I am preaching regularly about commitment; about the God who calls and supplies the needs of the ones ones he calls; about the blessing of a pure and a whole heart. And as I speak the Lord tells me words I need to hear.

I do not prepare sermons for my own benefit, but I hear them.

For I am wrestling. Why? I know God is good and his ways are best. I am not fighting him; I am fighting that my life be his in every part, with integrity and honesty and without exception. That my worship not be a matter of words and music alone but of deeper harmony of life and soul and bone and marrow.

I find myself often to be basically Christian, and I do not find that to be enough. So I am wrestling. And it is lonely. And it hurts. And it is confusing. And I am not sure I always prevail. I feel like Jacob, struggling across a river from my friends, who probably have no idea how I feel or why.

I don't know why I feel this way either. But with God's help, I'm not giving in.

Is there a Doctor in the house?

So I took my nephew to see the BBC National Orchestra of Wales last night. They performed a "Halloween Spooktacular", a concert of light classics and film score bits with a seasonal slant. A screen over the stage had an owl in flight during the Harry Potter segment, a clip from Pirates of the Caribbean, and they played some incidental music from Doctor Who with the scene showing above them (my personal favourite). It was a great concert, well performed, and introduced by some children's TV person. And my nephew loved it - especially when Dracula gave hime a goody bag in the interval full of BBC NOW bits and pieces (thank you Byron!)

Clearly, here in the photo, after the show, all was mayhem, with ray guns and monsters prowling around. Some poor kid tried to make it to the safety of the TARDIS but was mercilessly gunned down by a Dalek. Enlarge the picture and you'll see his skeleton in that special x-ray light that Dalek weapons provide. Somehow I lived to tell the tale.

At least in the current climate I'm not a Spurs fan.

Family Time

Two pictures to represent two family times this week: my Gandma's 92nd birthday, and my cousin Howard's wedding.

Different sides of the family - Grandma is Mum's Mum. Suffering from cancer, and it seems pleasantly confused, she was on terrific form. Apart from a little deafness, allowable I think at such a venerable age, you would never have guessed she was in any way under best form. She was good conversation and all smiles, enjoying her meal (which she ate with gusto - especially her chocolate pudding) and we had a wonderful time together.

Gill is over from Florida with Ben, as you can see, and this photo is actually taken in the room where ten years ago we took another photo with Gill, Mum, Grandma and Ben after I had baptised Ben. He's a bit bigger now and no longer being held in his mother's arms.

Howard is Dad's nephew, his sister Judith's son. Ten years my junior, a magician, and great company. He is very much his father's son - though his Dad died I think fourteen years ago. Many people told him during the day how much he reminded them of his father, which must have been tough to hear and wonderful all at the same time. He doesn't look like Roy; but he has his confidence and ability to warm a room and welcome people in, to be the host and he certainly has his father's smile. It was a pleasure to be at his wedding.

And to see lots of family there - for I have a wonderful family. They are an eclectic and strange bunch, and I love every one of them. Some are shy, some brash, some brittle, some brassy, some funny, some dry, some long-winded, some almost silent. I love being with them. We are a Victoria Wood sketch in action. It is never dull.

And Ben maybe growing up in Florida, but he is getting the hang of it well. His Grandma asked him: "Ben, shall we go out for a meal?"

Ben: "OK".

Grandma: "Do you like Italian?"

Ben: "No."

Grandma: "What do you like then?"

Ben: "French food."

Me: "Ben - give over, stop teasing your Grandma. You've never had any French food!"

Ben: "Have too!"

Me: "What French food do you know?"

Ben: "Fries."

With which it was hard to argue.

Seeing clearly, humbly

I have upset a colleague. Goodness, I have done that enough times. This time I have upset the area dean. And other local clergy.

We are looking at re-organising parishes in our area (deanery - a collection of parishes within the diocese) as in six years time the diocese is cutting clergy numbers, and we have to work out the best way forwards. If we try to keep all the buildings and congregations we currently have, the reduced number of clergy will be running around like headless chickens, and very little ministry with vision and outreach will happen at all. If we were a rural deanery with lots of tiny villages seperated by miles of winding roads, this might be inevitable (might) but we are a town, and frankly (to adapt the old joke) wherever we are going to - you wouldn't start from here.

There are currently five parishes in this part of the deanery, with five clergy, and ten churches. In six years time that will be three clergy. And really only one town with one slightly seperate village.

Now, I'm not going into the detail of how I think it should be sorted here. In months of preparation the clergy have worked things through by themselves and finally with the archbishop. We then had a meeting with a working party including members from each parish, & this was when I was taken off guard by the area dean, who presented a plan to this group which I have never agreed to and which was superceded by the plan suggested by the archbishop. None of these groups make any decisions - these are all planning groups. Any decisions have to be taken by the parishes themselves. But as the plans we put before people shape the decisions we come to, and as I will have to guide one of the new parishes through the re-shaping and make it work, I need to believe in any plan we agree to.

So I asked why we weren't talking about Barry's plan. And that's what upset the area dean. Cos he didn't want to talk about that plan. Which I didn't know.

And next Wednesday we have our second working party meeting.

Now, I have a simple agenda for this - I could use the word vision, I think it appropriate, but as soon as I use that word I am dealing in spiritual blackmail. If I have a vision it is from God and you can't disagree with me.

I want to see clearly, humbly. I might be wrong. I do want to be put right if I am wrong. Because if I am wrong, I need to be put right before I scupper something altogether, and my opposition to the area dean's plan could do just that.

So we'll stick with the word "agenda".

This is my agenda: I want the church to grow. I want it to be about building for the future, not about preserving the past. I want it to be about people not structures. I want it to be a strong body of Christ, strongly witnessing to the love of Christ, effectively drawing others into that love. And at this point I think the Archbishop's plan achieves that better than the area dean's.

If I am wrong, then I need to see that clearly. Pray for me that I would do so.

If I am right, then I need to see that clearly, humbly. Because I will be unpopular again. And at least I should do that with humility.

Oops.

Well, I asked for it to be short. And I was kind of fed up. I mean, nothing much grows on top. I did make that comment. Tidy it up, I said. So he got out his clippers, and a moment later it was all gone.

All of it.

Oops.

I suddenly realised this was a little more severe than I intended.

Still, some will grow back. At the sides. Up my neck. And I always liked hats...