Beck Back

Sunshine returned today, pleased for Owain as he's gone to Cornwall for the weekend. After getting up late we sang him a Happy Birthday greeting on WhatsApp, and then Clare cooked waffles for breakfast. Then 

I went to Tesco's to buy some offerings for the foodbank and drop them off at St John's Church, as I had a set of keys with me. If didn't need them however, as the door was open. Sounds of loud voices and music could be heard outside. I was greeted at the door by a smartly dressed young man and a smiling young lady at the door wearing a badge bearing the legend 'Usher'. 

The usual seating area of the church was full of worshippers, being addressed by a woman from a platform lectern decorated with a drape on which was printed 'Remnant Christian Network'. I was told that a ten hour prayer vigil was taking place and invited to stay. I said that I'd only come to drop off my foodbank offering and offered words of encouragement as I took my leave. I'd like to have stayed, but the amplified noise level was taxing on my ears. The atmosphere was one of exuberant joy and serenity, so characteristic of black Christian congregations. I was reminded of my years in Saint Paul's Bristol, and occasions when I had the pleasure of sharing in West Indian Pentecostal services there. 

When I reached home, I googled the name of the group, and found they are a branch of the Seventh Day Adventist missionary movement,  which was born in the 19th century in the USA and has spread world-wide since then. UK groups in the 'Network' appear to have their origin in Nigeria, but the movement is active and present in mission all over Africa, except perhaps in the North.

It's good to know the parish is offering hospitality to a Christian group of this kind. During and after covid the Russian Orthodox Exarchate congregation worshipped in St John's, while their normal home base in the Catholic chapel at Nazareth House was closed to the public. It was amusing for a while to find notices on the toilet doors in Russian as well as English. So sad that they didn't stay with us although they did give the church a lovely icon of St John and Our Lady at the foot of the cross, as a permanent reminder of their sojourn.

Mission accomplished I returned for lunch, which included among the veggies carrot plant tops fried with olive oil and garlic, something we've never tried before. It wasn't a great success as they were very chewy, maybe undercooked? But Clare had followed the recipe correctly as she always does. Next time I think I would steam or stew them until easy to cut, then fry with olive oil and garlic to see if it made a difference.

After lunch, I had a snooze, printed off my sermon ready for tomorrow and went to the shops to get a few things I'd forgotten earlier. Then a quick visit to Thompson's Park to check on the moorhens. There's no longer any sign of them sadly. At tea-time, I drove Clare to Penarth to a party with an ex-Steiner School colleague, but didn't stay, as I didn't share in the experience of the group welcoming her return visit. Back home again I ate an early supper and watched two fine episodes of Swedish crimmie 'Beck'. 

The stories all show how team work in policing functions at its best, sometimes despite the weaknesses and failings of team members. It exposes their humanity when faced with tragic events which they have to cope with as they labour on in a disciplined and methodical way. There are fifty lengthy episodes in this series going back twenty six years, when Beck (played by Peter Haber) was a middle aged detective. He's retirement age now, overseeing the team that has grown up around him. Interesting to compare and contrast this with Gibbs and the NCIS team running for twenty years with 458 hour long episodes, and much more action and personality centred. I love the understated dramatic nature of 'Beck' even more than that of the Swedish version of Wallander. I wonder if that series will ever be re-run?

Then after three solid hours of watching on my Chromebook it was time to call it a day