Reunions

Yesterday afternoon, Owain arrived after lunch to be re-united with his sisters and stay overnight. It's a great joy for us to have all three of them together under the same roof with us. It's lovely that they all still get on well together, and can enjoy sitting at table, sharing a meal and chatting. 

This morning, I had an early start to be ready to drive to Splott to celebrate the 9.30am Mass, then the 11.00am Mass afterwards at St German's. This time, my old friend Fr Graham Francis was at church, and concelebrated the Eucharist with me. The last time we were together in this way at the altar was probably in the late 1980s, when he has Vicar of Penrhiwceiber, and I was a guest preacher on behalf of USPG. 

It's fifty years since we were both at St Mike's in training. We were among a small number of college students recruited as volunteers with Cardiff Samaritans, allowed to be be away from College on a weeknight, once a fortnight, I think it was, so that we could do the overnight shift on telephone duty. We both learned a lot from this. It was one of the first student pastoral placements outside of the domain of parochial ministry. A modest innovation in those days, but the start of a practical revolution on ministerial training which happened over the next couple of decades.

Graham lives with stomach cancer. It deprives him of his characteristic energy. He needs to rest a lot, but it doesn't hinder him taking as full a part in the Mass as he can cope with. He can't preside and preach at at Sung Mass any longer, so for most of the service he sits, and reserves himself for concelebrating and sharing the distribution of Communion. At the end, he leads the singing of the Angelus, having pointed out to me that it's an hour earlier than it should be sung, an anomalous custom from times when the St Saviour's Mass finished at noon. Since student days Graham has been a master of liturgical know how, with an immense library of publications accumulated over decades. Not an academic but a practical and creative liturgist, to whom a scholar might resort if they couldn't track down a historic resource in any library or book-shop. It saddens me to think that none of our scholarly or training institutions seem interested in inheriting his collection. He started asking when he retired. He's got publications nobody has got around to digitising or ever will.

We had a super family lunch, when I got home. Then I walked with the kids through Bute Park while Clare had a siesta. We took photos in the park and then had a go at a family selfie in the garden when we returned. I wasn't entirely pleased with the result of the latter, which I attempted to do with my Sony Alpha 68. Setting it up to take timed shots is different from the three other Sony cameras I have, and this proved disconcerting, as did setting up the camera tripod. Thankfully, Kath has a lot more expertise than me, in matters audio-visual, and rescued the situation from a long drawn out wait while dad got things right.

Kath drove Owain to the station at tea time, then headed back for Kenilworth. Time seems to pass so quickly on days like these, re-forging family bonds, with the sun shining and nothing to distract us from being at home together. I'd have liked to be completely well, but despite continued improvement this dreaded affliction still pulls me down, somewhat unawares on occasions. I'm resilient, but not as much as I expect to be. I needed Kath to remind me of how much better I am now than I was last Christmas night, when things really did take a turn for the worse. But also for the better, as I had my first contact with the District Nurses team on Boxing Day morning, and since then, I have everything to give thanks for.

Llys Esgob garden party

Midweek Eucharists again at St Catherine's and St John's again on Wednesday and Thursday. Apart from that, much quiet enjoyment of hot sunny days. I had another bereavement meeting today, at Pidgeon's funeral home, for a service a week today. The deceased had worked as a young mother as a domestic cleaner in Llandaff, for a Mr & Mrs Rees of the Old Registry, I learned from preparing her eulogy. The address seemed like a familiar echo from the past, and so it turned out to be when I rang her daughter daughter to check. 

She told me Mum had worked for the Reverend Geoffrey Rees and his wife Lil, who was Principal of St Michael's College when I was training for ministry there. As a toddler she'd accompanied her mother to work early in the morning, and been taken by Mr Rees across the road and into college for breakfast in the big Refectory with the students "Who spoiled me rotten!" she recalled. This was seven years before my time, but nevertheless a lovely connection with my youth, under the caring eye of a priest and pastor for whom I grew to have the highest regard.

In the afternoon, Clare and I walked to Llandaff for a retired clerics' tea party with Bishop June at Llys Esgob. It was lovely to meet a variety of former colleagues and chat with them in the garden, even if it was occasionally difficult to fit names to faces. Just as we were about to finish, the skies darkened, the temperature dropped and we were treated to a few drops of rain, so we caught the bus back home instead of walking. Well, Clare, with her folding brolly, carried on into town on the bus for a quick piece of shopping, and I returned and cooked supper in time for her return. 

Afterwards I watched another episode of Dicte - Crime Reporter, plus a couple of episodes of a new BBC Wales mystery drama 'Keeping Faith' on iPlayer. Excellent acting with an authentic portrayal of a South Wales family stricken by the husband's sudden disappearance. It's now being screened again on BBC One to critical acclaim. Quite something for two serial dramas made in Wales to be screened in the same season.
  

Preaching anniversary

Monday, after such an simulating Sunday, I wasn't so much tired, but had no desire to go out or do anything. So I stayed in all day, and spent my time writing and uploading photos, with breaks for meals and no lakeside walk. Sometimes I seem to need lots of time to just digest everything I've experienced.

Tuesday was the 47th anniversary of my ordination to the priesthood. No opportunity to celebrate this with others. That's often been the case over the years, as I was ordained on an autumn Ember Saturday before Michaelmass, and it's seldom been the case that I've been in a place where a daily Mass is the norm, But never mind, I was taken by to Monica's house for an afternoon Bible discussion group with six others, looking at the theme of last Sunday's readings on reconciliation, and that was enjoyable.

After lunch, I walked into town to do some food shopping, and in the evening, walked in the dark along the lakeside to Chillon. By the small marina near the railway station, I startled a large bird which took flight into the darkness, squawking its annoyance as it left, a heron, I think.

Today is the 48th anniversary of my ordination to the diaconate, and for me this has always been an important day to remember, as it's the day when my public ministry began. 'Take thou authority to read the Gospel in the church and to preach the same ...' said Archbishop Glyn Simon, handing me a copy of the New Testament, as is customary. It was and still is a task and a role which carries with it a measure of apprehension, as a task entrusted to me by the church. In the early days, I was nervous about standing up and speaking to a congregation. It was reflected in dreams about starting to take a service and being unable to capture the attention of people chatting among themselves as I spoke. Now and then I still have them, although I'm quite at ease in front of any congregation nowadays.

At the midweek BCP 1662 Communion service I had a congregation of three adults and a five year old brought by her mum. She helped me this time by lighting the candles as well as putting them out. We used the St Matthew's Day readings for tomorrow, as these were the readings used on the first Sunday after my deaconing, when I preached on the text 'We proclaim not ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, and ourselves as your servants for his sake.' This is a salutary reminder to anyone who preaches. There's nothing wrong with anecdotes in a sermon that draw on personal experience, but preaching isn't an opportunity to draw attention to oneself and one's opinions, but to point to Christ. It's always a challenge. 

Before being ordained priest, a person has to serve a pastoral apprenticeship with an experienced cleric as a colleague. Spending time in the diaconate assisting in the ministration of sacraments and preaching but not celebrating, is a salutary reminder that the first calling of every priest is to proclaim the Gospel and gather a community around God's Word to celebrate the mysteries of the Lord's Supper. Without the former, the latter cannot happen. How often that has been ignored over centuries past, in which reading and preaching from scripture has been regarded as secondary to offering Mass. 

Are we getting this right today I wonder, distracted by clever opinions posing questions about the attention span of contemporary smartphone toting people? Politicians the world over are still fond of making lengthy speeches, but preaching isn't a type of religious oratory, even though a preacher may use oratorial rhetoric. It's a heartfelt communication between people who are together paying attention to God's Word and what it means for us in present experience. 

There's no reason why it shouldn't be a two way conversation when preacher and audience know and trust each others, as long as it ends naturally in prayerful silence. Time taken depends on how much time is available and how much people want to be included in this conversation. It's important not to benchmark our expectations by what psychologists or spin doctors say, but be guided by what the community needs to give attention to. I'm still learning this, fifty years after I started ordination training in September 1977 at St Michael's College Llandaff. Soon after I started there, I was called upon to officiate and preach at Sunday Evensongs in Parishes around the rural fringe of Cardiff. I reckon I've preached over three thousand sermons since then, and am still not bored with it. That's what I call job satisfaction.

Again in the late evening, I went for a walk before bed in the dark along the lakeside again. Near the small marina near the railway station,  there's a sharp bend in the footpath, occasioned by a large protruding rocky outcrop. This section is unlit and quite dark. I exercised caution in not walking too close to the low port wall to avoid tripping and falling in among the boats. Instead, I walked into the rocky promontory and fell on to it, hurting my knee and left hand.

It was so annoying, but nothing was broken and I walked, more than limped back to Church House before it began to stiffen with bruising. Both knee and hand were bleeding, and I couldn't find a first aid kit but was able to clean the wounds and apply a little calendula cream, before going to bed. I can't believe I'd forgotten that bend in the footpath, as I nearly tripped there before in broad daylight. Sheer stupidity.

   

Borowski in veiw

I spent this morning in St Michael's College with a group of other retired clergy with permissions to officiate in the diocese, at a Safeguarding training session, run by the Provincial Safeguarding team. It is and should be requirement for us to ensure we're well briefed about those really sensitive pastoral issues one comes across from time to time. This was prompted by recent legislation changes regarding responsibility for reporting potentially abusive situations and how this should be undertaken, but it still relies on pastoral awareness, common sense and discernment to know if action is required. And that's not often easy, if as a visiting priest you're not fully acquainted with the people and their context. It was a good and refreshing experience nevertheless.

I returned home for lunch, and afterwards walked into town to shop for some small items. I rang Ashley and then we met in John Lewis' top floor restaurant for a cup of tea and scone, for a catch-up before returning home to cook supper and eat it with Clare when she returned from her choir rehearsal. Then an hour watching an episode of 'Inspector Borowski' on the All Four streaming site. I'm about a third of my way through a 'box set' package of episodes of european TV series, branded as 'Walter Presents'. I like this website, as it's easy to use, swift and reliable, also it's as easy to pause and resume viewing for a few minutes or a few days.

As for Inspector Borowski, he's a sympathetic character, and like so many heroes of detective fiction he is middle aged, workaholic, getting over a broken marriage and with difficult offspring. Each episode, as well as telling the story of a nasty serious crime, shows something of his everyday life and work, and his social context, in a relaxed and quite amusing way. Having said that, the most recent episode I watched was just hilarious, portraying his eccentric boss taking refuge with Borowski during a marital crisis, and a very young looking female recruit to his team who is streets ahead of everyone else in her ability to analyse and research a case, mature beyond her years. How he manages to take this in his stride in his dominantly men's world, with gentle respect and appreciation, give an insight into what positive male leadership can look like today.

Friends reunited and The Archers

Today for a change we went to the eleven o'clock Sung Eucharist for the Feast of St Paul's Conversion at the Cathedral, and enjoyed the choir singing Mozart's 'Sparrow' Mass. Graham Francis was preaching for the last time as Canon in Residence before his retirement as Vicar of St Mary's Cardiff Bay. We were in St Michael's as students together in the revolutionary year of '68, when reform of theological education and training for the ministry managed to make it briefly to the student agenda for the first time in modern times. Throughout his ministry he has taken an interest in the development and adaptation of Christian liturgy in the service of mission and evangelisation, and over the years has acquired an extraordinary library of liturgical resource texts, and the expertise to make use of it on all kinds of occasion. He can best be described as a liturgical entrepreneur, and is an excellent preacher. 

It was good to hear him preach again, and good to catch up with him and Eleri after the service. He was lamenting the prospect of down-sizing that goes with retirement, wondering what to do with his unique extraordinary resource collection. I hope he doesn't need to dispose of it, but can instead find a way to keep it intact as a library of material for use by seminarians and researchers of liturgy, maybe at St Michael's?

We then made our weekly visit to the Riverside Market to get our organic veg supply, before setting out for Newport, and lunch with Martin and Chris and their family. It was a long and leisurely affair with lots of delicious food and good conversation. It must be last summer since we got together with them, so there was plenty to talk about. We got home just in time for the week's first episode of The Archers. These days, there's nothing routine about the varied and complex story lines criss-crossing the imaginary Borsetshire landscape. Sometimes it seems a bit over the top to cram quite so many up to date socially relevant issues into the life of this particular fictional backwater, but it does make for good discussion about what's going to happen next. It's fascinating that the innovative approach to script themes has of late become an issue for debate and even protest in the public realm of media observers and Archers afficionados.

   

Meetings

I went into town this morning to attend a RadioNet Users Group meeting and take minutes. At the end, I went back to the CBS office, and wrote them up while my memory was fresh. I haven't done this for a good while, and was pleased to find that it wasn't too difficult to do quickly and satisfactorily, so I was on my way home again at lunchtime.

In the afternoon I went up to St Mike's to meet up with Fr Hywel Davies to brief him on the short weekend we'll have together when he comes to take over from me as locum chaplain for Costa del Sol East at the end of this month. He arrives Saturday evening, so I have Sunday to show him around and introduce him to people. Then on Monday, I leave for Vinaros, via Madrid and Valencia, as there's no direct route up the coast. The rail track bed is complete, but the construction project ran out of runs to lay track and finish the job. How frustrating for the regional holiday economy. It was good to see the College again, running along quietly and happily under Fr Mark's Clavier's leadership. I caught a glimpse of him in the distance, about his business, but we were both busy at the time.

Clare returned from swimming with a pair of fat mackerel bought in the Central Market, one of my favourite fish, to cook and eat. I see on the fishmonger's slab less often in the Costa del Sol. There are so many more local varieties to choose from out there, I guess. Tomorrow is my last day before returning. I keep checking to see if I've done everything needed to keep my affairs in order. Time passes so quickly.

A milestone for St Michael's

Last night I attended a farewell dinner for Peter Sedgwick, stepping down from heading St Michael's College on reaching retirement age, after ten years of outstanding service to the Church in Wales, in which the fortunes of the College have been turned around from teetering on the edge of insolvency to being a cutting edge international as well as local higher educational and training institution. A few months ago the residential ministerial training programme was threatened with closure by a revue of its work which concluded for spurious reasons that there is no place for indigenous training, as there are several excellent training institutions in England meeting given need. 

This caused much anguish for a College team under Peter's leadership which foresaw the need to redevelop its training offer and responded to changing circumstances in the most innovative way over the past couple of years. The new developments have been well received, and there are more exciting prospects for ecumenical and international engagements, with Vice-Principal, now acting Principal Fr Mark Clavier taking over the baton from Peter. Best of all the doom saying report served to unite the Church in Wales in protest and resistance to the thought of losing a programme of ministry training rooted in the bi-lingualism of the Province. That's an element CofE colleges cannot reproduce in any kind of depth.

In the last weeks of Peter's ministry, announcement of the lifting of the threat of closure was made, a truly happy and fruitful conclusion to ten remarkable years of work, since in a way the map Peter made with his colleagues into the future is already being followed.. The banquet was excellent, and lifted into a happy celebration by this good news. After a term of writing in Durham University, Peter will return to live in the Vicarage of 'the Res' in Ely, where Jan his wife is incumbent. He's certainly no stranger to the Parish already, and they'll be happy to have him share in their life as a community.

  

 

Transition time for St Michael's

I made a return visit to S Michael's College this morning to meet the Principal Peter Sedgwick for a catch-up chat. He's in his last few weeks in office now before his retirement begins with a term in Durham University, dedicated to writing. His decade of leadership and labour in re-developing the roles and functions of the College has been in every sense a remarkable enterprise. He's taken the College a lot further in response to contemporary mission educational demands than some in the Church in Wales have yet to realise. There's a persistent mind-set which prefers to remember the institution as it used to be, despite the facts. 

Already Vice Principal Fr Mark Clavier has taken up the baton as acting Principal, with the prospect of interesting times ahead. The College's plan for redeveloping ministry training, implemented since last summer has been well received by participants. All this happened despite the proposed closure of the residential training component of the College being on the agenda and hanging over everyone. The strategic review of ministry training has been long drawn out. I believe its recommendations are soon to be decided upon by the Bench of Bishops. It's up to them to set the priorities for the Church in Wales' future mission. Do they value sufficiently the assets they already have? 

The great strength of St Mikes is that is fits the unique context of the Province of the Church in Wales with two indigenous languages shaping discourse - Welsh of course and the English spoken in Wales (Wenglish?) with all its nuances, poetic variety and historic differences. Church ministry leadership is mainly made up of ordinarily capable people, whose strength is in both their sense of belonging and their ability to adapt and identify with the community they serve. Fitting in is vital. I think St Mike's is good at helping people to learn this. It doesn't come naturally to everyone with a vocation, but it's essential to healthy spiritual formation.

I gather there are further plans to redevelop the provincial training programme in a way that will see groups of students together on pastoral placement in new grouped parish ministry areas, during their academic learning phase. This is a challenging innovation for all involved, I believe that moving the training and learning experience close to the pastoral front line could a lot of good, both to students and parishioners. Practically speaking, it is bound to be costly and involve sacrifices all round in an era of income constraint. Other small churches like ours have given up on their residential training, sometimes decades ago, and now admit their regret at having done so.  Affordability is a matter of values and priorities. I fervently hope those who advocate closure, in favour of sending Welsh ordinands to English Colleges will renounce this temptation to ecclesial suicide and recant of their ill founded belief.

   

 

Tale of two seminaries

The day started with a visit to Coin to celebrate the Eucharist for nine people in the Eglesia de Cristo chapel. I then drove back to La Cala to pick up Linda for a special outing to Malaga. On the way we collected John Le Page, the retired but still very active Church Army Captain, who is a member of the Chaplaincy ministry team. After the Week of Praye for Christian Unity meeting in Malaga Cathedral back in January, Mgr Jesus Catala Ibanez, the Archbishop, promised to invite all the non-Catholic pastors working in his diocese to meet for lunch. One personal blessing of being a locum priest here for the past three months is being around long enough to see that promise fulfilled.

The meeting was to be held at the Archdiocesan Spirituality Centre, a substantial complex of buildings out in the suburban hills up and behind the coastal plain. With the help of Linda's satnav, we negotiated the winding streets down and uphill from the urban Autovia and arrived punctually where we were meant to be, joining a group of thirty odd lay and ordained people in ministry to expatriate communities, Anglicans, Presbyterians, various European kinds of Lutherans - Finnish, Norwegian, Swedish, Danish, Dutch and German, being welcomed by the Archbishop and by the present Rector of the seminary, who was giving an historical talk outside the main entrance to the chapel when we arrived, before we went in to worship.

A first-fruit of Rome's response to the protestant reformation, founded in 1597, just after the Council of Trent, the entire establishment was once the seminary for educating and training priests for mission in a post mediaeval world, a hundred at a time, looked after by a community of nuns in a convent on-site. Now, there is no more than a tenth of that number of candidates in training. Very few nuns remain, and the convent is transformed into a retreat house and conference centre. On the same campus there are also church schools. 

The vast expanse of buildings, some dating back to the end of the sixteenth century, face south, and overlook a bowl of wooded hills which aren't built upon, so the environment feels secluded, peaceful and rural despite being surrounded on all sides by urban development. Given the modern appetite for land, it's amazing the church has resisted encroachments of this rather special oasis.

After the introductory historical talk, we gathered in chapel, a striking building with architectural forms that come straight from mediaeval Andalusian Arab architecture. There we were treated to a biblical reflection from the Archbishop on the theme of Christ the 'Good Shepherd', to whom the seminary is dedicated. 

He pointed out that this role model was one which all Christian pastors (male and female, he stressed) were inspired by and committed to follow. Our unity in service of others was found in the pastoral identity of Christ - a little masterpiece in the art of reconciling ecumenical theology. We learned that the seminary's founder had been beatified, but also that the Rector and a deacon seminarian (Blessed Juan Duarte of Yunquera) had also been beatified as martyrs of the Spanish Civil War a few years ago, murdered during that conflict in the 1930s. 

These historical fact no doubt help shape the priorities of the diocese when holding on to and adapting afresh for mission a four hundred year old institution facing a secularising society coping with new pathological expressions of extremist ideology. It represents a persistent expression of conviction that the church still has a vital offer to make in a changing world, and cannot do so without Good Pastors. Here´s a photo that was taken to mark the occasion.

The commitment to reshape this place of learning for a new future I found inspiring. Even more so after an email arrived on our way home after the meeting, telling me of the intention to close St Michael's College Llandaff for residential training in the near future - and this after all the enterprise and innovation undertaken by the Principal and Staff team over the past decade to re-shape its residential and non-residential training offer. 'Can't afford it', is most likely to be the excuse for termination. 

I believe our leaders and their expert consultants have lost the plot. Or they've lost the will to insist that life at close quarters for a year or more in a learning praying community is the only way to get people to understand in their own skins how to live and work together with others utterly different in temperament and faith priorities from themselves, whose company they haven't chosen. That's how generations of pastors have found out how to be 'good pastors' towards everyone they meet, not just those who agree with them, and go along with the quirks of their religiosity. I don't think the same can be achieved through short periods of residential training inserted into a largely home based programme, as it's always possible to avoid hard challenges, with the necessity of returning to the routine of parish life and distance learning. 

I believe that as a result, the church will suffer even more from loss of identity and purpose with an ensuing collapse into individualism and competitiveness, the opposite direction from the missionary demand for partnership and collaboration. I foresee that what gets demolished is destined to be re-invented in another forty years. Such a pity it has to be like that.

   

Leaving St Mike's

Quite an easy start this very sunny morning, with a quarter of an hour's drive from home to St Michael's Tongwynlais to stand in for the Vicar at the Parish Eucharist. I enjoy going there, not simply because of the warm and welcoming nature of the community, but also because this is the village where my father dawdled his way to school to learn his letters and numbers a century ago. I had to discipline myself to keep strictly to the homily I prepared earlier in the week, so that I could finish on time to drive straight back to St Michael's College for this year's Leavers' service. Eleven students coming to the end of their courses. Ten to be made deacon and one sent out for a period of lay ministry in a Cardiff parish, while she settles into married life, before eventual ordination.

The service was longer than usual, as it included blessing the leavers, handing over stoles of office and certificates of course completion.  I blessed Rufus and Rachel, two of the leavers in my group. It was great to see Rachel's dad had come to support her. In the case of Cath, the last ever Methodist student, and one of my tutor group, she received a Communion set for use in her pastorate as a probationer minister prior to eventual ordination, and was given the customary Right Hand of Fellowship by Dr John Wilkes our Methodist staff member. 

It's such a shame that the immediate ecumenical dimension of residential training in St Mikes has been lost after several decades of collaboration. Every denomination has its own survival strategy, however, and while that leads to a certain drawing apart, hopefully it doesn't signify any loss of good will, only a lack of creative imagination in forging a common future in the face of resources lost. It seems to me that all our institutions may have to die out before there is a real practical reconciliation of churches able to value and work with each others' different histories and traditions. I thought I'd live to see it, but inertia for truly radical change was lost decades ago.

Today was my final appearance in College as a group tutor. I have enjoyed accompanying students over the past two years, and it's been challenging and demanding on times, not simply in the Lent term when I was locum Dean of Residential Training. It was good to work as part of an excellent staff team and to share in careful thinking about developments in curriculum and models of training. However, I often felt inadequate to the responsibilities of the task, and behind that lay a feeling of powerlessness in the face of inability to change anything that would really make life together for students more bearable. It's a down side of retirement, I guess.

My desire is to stick with offering locum duties mostly in situations that need to benefit from familiarity and continuity during times of change. I wish the training system was flexible enough to allow a handful of students to accompany me in the range of pastoral duties I get to cover. In future each minister is likely to be covering a wider area, and will need to adapt to many more circumstances and people than is normal even in a broadly diverse parish. There's nothing better than learning by doing.

The limitation of College is that all are faced with having to conform to a university culture of learning that leaves too little time for spiritual formation, and living with differences in community. Combined pressures train future clergy to be workaholics, and don't really give them the right quality of time together to learn in depth from each other's way of faith. The one thing that conflict between students of different religious opinions revealed to me was how little some knew about or understood, let alone respected the faith of others unlike themselves. 

For all the higher theological input students receive, it means they are likely to emerge from training looking more like survivors rather than initiates transformed and enabled by a formative experience. It's nothing a year's diaconate won't put right, if they're lucky to get the right kind of supervision. But to my mind that only shows how much all ministerial formation and scholarly learning needs to be rooted in the communities students are being prepared to serve. I campaigned on that issue forty five years ago when I was a St Mike's student. It's improved, getting closer to being that way, but there's still much that needs to change before the paradigm shift takes place.

 

St Mark's Day inauguration

Drove Clare to the Steiner School in Llandaff North for her classes this morning, then made my way East through the suburbs to reach Lakeside in time to celebrate a St Mark's Day Eucharist for seven faithful people. Then headed in to town, and left the car in the assigned parking place under the Motorpoint Arena where it had been arranged I would rendezvous with Ashley for another trip to Chepstow. As I was early, I made a trip to the Co-op Bank to complete a transfer of funds I'd only done half of during yesterday's bank visit to deal with a savings account come to maturity. This was followed by a visit to Santander's nearest banking station to arrange an account status change and take advantage of their latest offer. Then, back to the office to collect some equipment and set out for our radio suppliers' HQ in Chepstow.

It was good to have time to chat things over in the quiet of the car during our pleasant journey there and back. We got our new Dell tablet configured for remote access to the SafetyNet server as needed and retrieved the Asus Transformer which proved unsuitable to access a Windows VPN in the way it's been set up. It'll still be a superb platform for an on-line file library to make office facilities accessible in any location. Moreover, I get to take it home and figure out how to get it to play with our office system. All this new technology requires a good deal of thinking though to get the most out of it. Just when you've got used to a new way of doing things, another presents itself. For every innovation there are new complications, and everything has to be looked at with total security in mind. So there's never much room for uncritical enthusiasm when making adjustments to the total system.

We got back to Motorpoint car park and unloaded the consignment of radios purchased on our last visit there, all configured ready for use, then it was time to head off to Llandaff in the evening traffic, with just enough time to get to St Michael's for Evensong with the special ceremony to license Fr Mark Clavier as Dean of Residential Training and Dr John Wilks as Director of Post-Graduate Training. The College chapel was packed with visitors and students. I felt very pleased to squeeze on to the end of a pew next to one of my tutees, having discharged my last responsibility as acting Dean by negotiating and producing the service sheet for the occasion.

It went off perfectly and the Archbishop preached in a way that did justice to contemporary biblical understanding of  scripture. It was comforting to have such a positive message 'from the top' in the light of the last term's out-break of fundamentalist dogmatism, attempting to re-fight battles dismissed by the church catholic as irrelevent even before I occupied a pew in this chapel, three generations ago. It's just not good enough. The Church in Wales is a diverse body. But there are limits to diversity. Convictions about the nature of scriptural authority that contradict the freedom which the Gospel Jesus proclaimed are a challenge to everyone to think deeply about what gives confidence, purpose and openness to the journey as His disciples. 

The dynamism of the Gospel and the richness of ways in which it is proclaimed offers both security and freedom to those who follow the way of Jesus - trusting in a living Word, as opposed to a very fixed idea of how God's mystery is to be understood and lived. Launching out into a different way of thinking may be for some a disconcerting exit from their comfort zone, but the blessings are beyond conception.
    

The death at the Ritz

This morning was my final attendance of the College staff team meeting. Next time the new Director of Residential Training will be in place. It's been a stimulating experience, being accepted even temporarily as a member of such a well focused, confident and creative working team with vigorous commitment to the mission of the church and education of its ministry candidates. While many in the church struggle with the need for change, here's a group of gifted people alive to opportunities that make others nervous. I hope fervently that their vision and commitment will be recognised as they move reluctant learners in the right direction, when the work of the College comes under review in the coming term.

While I was posting some cheques into my account at the end of the morning, the annoying live news broadcast feed that pollutes the dignified silence of the bank - or makes it impossible to overhear the conversations of others, or hear yourself think - depending on your point of view, announced the death of Margaret Thatcher at the London Ritz Hotel where she'd been staying since Christmas. Not totally unexpected, given her age or condition over recent years. There'll be nothing else but this in the news for the next week or so, and the profound wounds which her era inflicted on society will be re-opened and licked painfully by the 24/7 news media.

I hated the change of moral and social ethos which characterised the mindset she represented with such courage and conviction. But her practical realism was to some extent admirable and worthy of respect. She led from the front, but was not alone in her convictions, rather she was the voice articulating a deep shift in values, and I still think that much of this shift generations to come will live to regret. Whatever, may she rest in peace.

From getting an overview of the College's developing integrated pastoral skills training programme in the morning, I moved after lunch to laborious line by line scrutiny of the  draft Constitution for Cardiff's Business Crime Reduction Partnership management board. It's the first time since our landmark meeting last November that Ashley and I have really had a chance to attend to the details and discover potentially risky flaws that could undermine the stability of the organisation's set up. Ninety-five percent of this six page document is just the way it's meant to be, but as ever, the devil is in the detail. Fortunately Ashley is as good at nit picking as I am at seeing the whole picture. So we need a good argument over a document to bring out the best in both of us, for the good of the cause.

It was well after seven by the time I got home. I still had a student report to draft, but after that I was grateful to have nothing much to do except stare vacantly at the telly at the end of a day of such mental exertion.

 

Better than telly

An uneventful Saturday, apart from a brisk afternoon walk across the fields for tea at Jasper's in Llandaff. It was bitterly cold, albeit just above freezing, but a persistent wind chilled us to the bone. I took my camera, but only managed a few photos of a heron hunting for fish just below Blackweir bridge. I wasn't too pleased with the result, but at least I have an indication of what settings I might try out next time I go out snapping wildlife at 50 metres with a telephoto lens.

I drove to Abercanaid to celebrate the Eucharist and preach this morning. At the end of the service a bright eyed old lady came up to me to tell me about the snowdrops under the tree behind the church, urging me to go and look. So I went out, camera in hand, and shared in her delight.

 

On my way back into Cardff to pick up Clare from St Catherine's and go to the Riverside market for veggies, I called into Staples and bought an Iomega network drive at a bargain price for CBS office use. It also has a facility for remotely accessing files over the internet, invaluable for me to keep up to date when working from home, and for Ashley when he is out and about. 

The forthcoming review of the life and work St Michael's College has been on my mind a good deal of late. With time and leisure on my hands after lunch I, worked on a brief reflection to share with students about the life time value of a diverse and holistic education for ministry when it's my turn to speak at Tuesday Matins. The coming week is reading week. I thought I was due to speak the following week, but it turns out that I'm not due until the last week of term, so there's plenty of time to refine what I want to say. I enjoy tasks like this. It helps me to find out what I have noticed, and to develop what I think. Getting to a place where I'm satisfied can sometimes be a tortuous and lengthy process. I find this more satisfactory than watching telly, even if it's less relaxing.

  

College Quiet Day

I returned to Bristol and retrieved my laptop yesterday morning, then worked at home until it was time to go into College for the tea time All Age Worship. We had full house, with all the children belonging to student families in residence attending plus members of a residential course for clerics mid-way through their ministerial career. A sort of mid-life crisis course? I wondered.

Today I returned to College for a Quiet Day conducted by fellow tutor David Hazelwood for students and staff, working with the 2 Kings passage about Elijah on the run, and the still small voice of God, and with the saying of Jesus "Come to me all who labour and are heavy burdened and I will give you rest." He made a strong case from scripture for disciplined observation of time out as part of active ministry. Staff as well students need reminding of this. Me too, certainly, as I easily get carried away by my enthusiasm for getting things done. During the day, a tree on the east side of the College chapel caught my eye and I took this photo. I pondered for ages on why it had not yet lost its crown of leaves.

For some of us, a day of quiet contemplation was just what the doctor ordered, but for others it was uncomfortably dull and uneventful, I suspect. Some optional quiet creative activities were available, and the blessed sacrament was reserved for those who wanted to pass their day in adoration. What I did was to use my time of quiet to think about preaching when I go to Sicily and to prepare the Kimber annual Christmas round-robin letter. Nice to be able to think without interruption.

The day ended with the Welsh language Eucharist, and then tutor group, with 'Becca and Rufus still absent through sickness. I needed to brief the group on preparing to lead a special service for the Vigil of Prayer for World Mission for the day after I fly to Sicily. That kept us discussing today's mission challenges for the best part of the hour available. I guess we all struggle with the question of how to make the church and the real Gospel more believable to our contemporaries. There are some answers, although nothing worthwhile that everyone can unite to pursue with enthusiasm. The problem of our time.

The conclusion I came to about the tree, along with its bare companion even closer to the chapel, was that the grey stone building sheltered them from the wind OK, but that the wind crossing the chapel roof was less chilly than air enclosed in the shadows between chapel wall and hedge. Leaves in the breeze simply survived longer in this case. In tutor group Cath spoke about a bush in her garden at home being cut back to reveal loads of autumn crocuses flourishing beneath. Nature has many surprising ways of adapting to the smallest of changes in environmental conditions.

 "How many are your works O Lord, in wisdom you have made them all."
  

Documentary launch day

I went into St Mike's this morning to meet another of the candidates for the Vice Principal's job, being shown around, and introduced to staff and students. On my way in I met Archbishop Barry, arriving for a College Committee meeting, with  Trever Willmott, Bishop of Dover his guest. Both remarked that they'd just seen me in a preview video of tonight's 'Vicar Academy' TV documentary. I wondered when that was and what I was doing, as the cameras were rarely around when I was in College last year. 

When I watched the programme, I was relieved to find I was only in background of an opening shot of a procession into chapel one day when I was celebrating the Eucharist - that's just where I'm happy to be these days, delighted to see our admirable ordinands willing to open their hearts to the interview camera, and   deal with the inevitable scrutiny that arises from being broadcasted. It's a pity it is only being shown on BBC Wales (and iPlayer thankfully), but I guess if it's a ratings success, it will go out on the network eventually.

Let's hope it stimulates fresh interest in vocations to ministry. That's certainly what people in College, if not elsewhere, are praying for. This is an era in which the impact of decline in support for the Church is causing heart searching with more than a tinge of panic about it. Yet, in College I see so many gifted people, with a strong desire to serve and not too many illusions about the challenges they will face. Many of them have conflicting ideas about what ministry will mean in the very varied settings where they'll be exercising it, so College life isn't sweetness and light by any standard.

At the core of the spiritual formation students get at St Mike's is learning from experience how to live together with their differences, and finding the common ground they share in the life of faith. Sometimes it all seems like it's miles away from the communities they'll end up working in, struggling to survive, fearful of losing their identity let alone their kind of religion. Yet, as I found when I was a restless and questioning student in this College forty five years ago, nothing I learned or experienced was wasted once I was let out into the wild. 

Perhaps it's gratitude for that gift more than anything else which persuaded me to accept the invitation to be part of the College's formative community life. And however dire the state of the Church may currently be, both staff and students, encourage incurable optimism in me.

 

Publish and be blessed

Wednesday, I lunched in College and worked there during the afternoon, before celebrating the Eucharist. I went in again today to work and then for a meeting over tea with one of the candidates for the Vice-Principal's job, visiting to meet staff and students before the interviews take place next month. It's lovely to see how everyone takes an interest and makes an effort to welcome and put people in the hot spot at their ease.

A large banner notice has gone up on the perimeter fence on Cardiff Road, to tell the world to watch the 'Vicar Academy' documentary series on BBC1 Wales next Monday. And why not indeed promote it shamelessly? There's a strong desire in college, backed by lots of hopeful prayers to see this programme arouse interest in ordained ministry, as did last year's documentary series about monastic life and retreats revived interest in vocations, particularly among Roman Catholics in Britain. 

The church is blighted by contemptuous media stereotypes of religion and the ministries which serve faithful communities. I'd love to see us having to rise to the fresh challenge of public dialogue about discipleship and spirituality that could be both corrective and inspirational, and have our vocations advisors working overtime for a change. In fact, I think our students from so many and varied backgrounds are well placed to sustain such an exchange.