Dog tired

A lousy night and an early start, and meetings with members of College staff to consider how to address the outcome of yesterday's conflict. Stephen proposed a meeting with a discipline process inviting all present to listen carefully one at a time to any with a grievance, and time set aside for it this afternoon. Having done the Mennonite mediation training programme, Stephen is well equipped to lead this.

The Bishops' statement on Ministry and Mission for the next stage of life in the Church in Wales arrived in my in-box last night. This is to guide the planned review of the College. Well, it's a carefully thought out document of over two and a half thousand words, unpacking some of the findings and suggestions of the Church in Wales strategic review from the end of last year. Decent words but only words. Too many words. In effect it's a report on a report, no executive summary, no images to work with, not what I'd call a vision statement.

The existing College vision statement from years back is concise, imaginative, relevant. If Jesus had used as many words as the Bishops' report does instead of images and parables, just imagine how long the Gospels would have been. By now you'd think I'd be used to this, but I still live in hope of fresh creative sparks that give insight and direction and permit a free response to a constantly changing situation, yet still move in a strategic direction. I'm disappointed.

I went off to the CBS office for the monthly RadioNet user group meeting, to hear the moans of retail security staff about the lack of response and interest in the crime issues they have to deal with. Police websites trumpet the fact that crime is down in the city centre, ducking from the reality that fewer crimes are reported because it's such a hassle to get a policeman to attend and deal with matters as they arise, and little ever seems to happen as a result.

I got back to College in time for lunch, and then  there was the College meeting mid afternoon, attended by staff and students. Several people spoke appreciatively about life in College, how good everyone had been about welcoming prospective students and the contentious service was clearly not a bad experience for some. I expected to end in the hot seat. I didn't expect to be inarticulate and tongue tied when I did. 

What upset me was discovering how little the message of the Port Talbot Passion had been absorbed or influenced watchers, before contention erupted, following an act of worshipping the Crucified One. The connection between message and application, theory and practice seems to get lost in an instant. How little human beings change. Centuries pass, still the same faults and failings that Christ died to redeem. How fragile our hold on what gives us life and sets us free.

Although I was very tired and sad, I was grateful to slide into the normality of the evening's Tai Chi class, and work for a couple of hours at perfecting familiar moves under clear and disciplined guidance in an environment of remarkable mutual trust between people of all ages. It was such a simple refreshment. I even stopped fretting about the fact that it rained all day.

  

Our teacher Christie recounted working with a group of visually impaired people, one of whom had a guide dog. She worried about how the dog would react, being surrounded by lots of people moving slowly and waving their arms in a way that might suggest command to the creature. The  dog wasn't the least bothered and just basked in the peaceful atmosphere generated by the movement, rolling over on its back with pleasure and then falling asleep.