Overseers' oversights

Cloudy, warm, occasional glimpses of sky when I woke up at seven. Instead of dozing off again, I listened to the news and 'Sunday' religious magazine programme, which inevitably reported on the announcement Friday last, of the resignation of Andy John Archbishop of Wales 'with immediate effect'. Not exactly a surprise, sad to say. This last few months Bangor diocese and Cathedral have been in the spotlight for the wrong reasons, leading to a Provincial enquiry and a probe by the Charity Commissioners into financial irregularities in Cathedral management. Nothing to do with Bishop Andy himself but with misbehaviour by diocesan employees, acting in ways that betray trust placed in them as church office holders. What they did wrong for this to happen is one thing, but alongside it is the failure of oversight, if not denial of misbehaviour in face of concern expressed, not only in the media but also the Cathedral and diocese. 

Eight months ago the Archbishop of Canterbury resigned in similar circumstance for failing to deal with serious safeguarding issues in relation to complaints from church members subjected to sexual abuse by those entrusted with pastoral care in the church, both clerical and lay. His staff team could have done a lot better in raising concerns and nagging him until he acted. It's difficult enough when a person is constantly in the media spotlight, tackling a host of problems and challenges simultaneously. The demands of high public office are huge, and the church isn't best equipped to deal with them, like industry and commerce. 

By resigning, Bishop Justin admitted failure on behalf of the entire organised CofE. The Church in Wales is much smaller in comparison, with six dioceses and six hundred clergy, not forty two with 20,000. The same demands and distractions of public office still apply to the Archbishop of Wales, overseeing not just his own diocese of Bangor but supervising the affairs of the Province and leading his fellow bishops. Trust and confidence at every level of governance is essential. Before his resignation was announced, a meeting of the Church in Wales' Representative Body, its charitable trustees, with whom accountability for church  governance and financial affairs rests, passed a vote of no confidence in him. A decisive resigning issue.

Given the whiff of scandal and mounting criticism of Diocesan leadership over the months past, this has been a long drawn out affair, but still, at the root of it all is the betrayal of trust on the part of those he appointed to run the diocese. At least by letting this affair play out to its inevitable conclusion, the Church in Wales is left with an instructive case study of the consequences of a bishop not giving top priority to the role of Chief Pastor, and reminding his staff to ensure he stays faithful to this sacred commission.

I decided to worship at St German's this morning so I walked down to Cowbridge Road East and took a 17 bus to the city centre, then picked up an eastbound bus to take me within easy reach of the church. It's amazing to see the extent of redevelopment of run-down areas of Tredegarville and Adamsdown which has taken place over the past two decades, with student accommodation and offices along the route I walked. It was lovely to be welcomed back by members of the congregation, enjoy familiar a liturgy expression and a thoughtful sermon by Fr Jarel, who reflected on the diversity of expressions of faith and discipleship represented by the Apostles Peter and Paul, and reminded us that no matter what effort we make as Christ's disciples, we're all prone to weakness and failure, but in the end God's grace surpasses all our failings. 

It took two buses to get as far as Cowbridge Road after church, then I walked home from there. I took the precaution of preparing and part cooking lunch last night, as I knew how hungry I'd be, arriving home at a quarter to two. After eating, I spent an hour and a half writing, then fell asleep in the chair for over an hour before going out for a walk. The cloud cover had dispersed. There was no wind, and the evening sunshine at 23C was glorious. After supper, with nothing else to do, I watched another episode of 'The Sommerdahl Murders'. At least the crime investigation was complex, with a surprise twist in it at the very end. Its portrayal of a social environment in which sex with whoever you please is normal as long as they agree was insightful observing that it doesn't dispense with guilt or shame if a person feels they have something to hide.

Paddington in Cardiff

A sunny day with clouds but dry after rain last night and just the threat of a light shower. I was up and out of the house by eight thirty for my eighth covid job at Rookwood Hospital vaccination centre at nine. I got there in 56 minutes, slightly less time than the last walk there for the RSV jab. I took my time returning as I didn't need to be punctual returning for the rest of my breakfast. Clare was out for a McTimoney so I used the quiet time to record and edit texts I'd prepared for Thursday's Morning Prayer the week after next, and helped her make lunch when she returned.

I read a news article that stated an effigy of Paddington Bear sitting on a park bench had been installed in St John's churchyard garden. Similar images have appeared in the public realm in other cities around the country to publicise the forthcoming movie 'Paddington in Peru' due to be premiered in two weeks time. It made the news since the gardens are only open on weekdays, and not over the weekend, with the excuse of preventing anti-social behaviour. Apparently some families have complained, having made the journey especially to see and get their selfies with the bear only to find the gates under lock and key. 

In the fifteen years since the churchyard garden was renovated, it's always been difficult to secure regular opening hours for the garden, and yes there has been anti-social behaviour, day and night. Is this really an obligation of the Council to staff and pay for? Or has this been taken on by the FOR Cardiff team as part of the Cardiff Business Improvement District (BID) initiative? I don't know, but whoever is responsible has had to pull their finger out to arrange and publicise a Sunday opening time, while FOR Cardiff sees if it can find an alternative locations without the same problem arising. A nice idea, but not fully thought out.

Fifteen years ago, the redevelopment architects had a notion to commission a statue for the gardens that would symbolise the spirit of the city. This failed to materialise as the ground consecrated for burials and owned by the church. Only a memorial monument would be permissible under church law. I proposed at the time that a memorial to Cardiff's blitz victims would fit the bill, but this didn't appeal to the ambitions of the developers. Instead, a million pounds were spent on the abstract metallic edifice which stands in front of the city library, a true monument to pretentiousness.

I went into town at the end of the afternoon to take photos of the Paddington Bear effigy before St John's Gardens were locked up for the day. As Paddington is only there for publicity purposes, it's a temporary installation, not requiring legal permission from the Church in Wales. But, I can't help wondering if the Chancellor of the Diocese has been consulted about this! I had a wander around a few shops, then headed home by bus. 

After supper I watched this week's episode of 'The Chateau Murders'. It's complicated and rather dull, not what I'd call a crime thriller. 

Change at the top

A cooler autumnal day after a cold night, but sunny despite the clouds. Clare went off to her study group after breakfast. I worked on next Sunday's sermons, and then completed this week's Morning Prayer video and uploaded it to YouTube. A surprise email arrived from the Diocese announcing the appointment of a new Dean of Llandaff, Richard Peers, sub Dean of Christchurch Oxford, plus a letter from Bishop June announcing her retirement in December.

I'm disappointed there wasn't a Church in Wales candidate to occupy the post. Too many positions in this diocese have been filled by Church of England clergy in recent years, and this is bad for the self-esteem and morale of long standing Welsh clergy in my opinion. Will the diocesan electoral college take note of such a concern when choosing an episcopal candidate/ Will the Bench of Bishops control the process and over-ride the diocesan electors' wishes, as happened last time around? Time will tell.

I cooked lunch ready for Clare's return, and after eating together went for a walk in the park. I bumped into Lord Dafydd Elis-Thomos on Llandaff Fields, returning from a meeting at the Cathedral. We stood and chatted about the news many many other things, for the best part of an hour, before continuing down to the river.

When I returned home, Clare had gone to her meditation group at six, so I ate supper alone, then watched a lovely documentary programme on More Four in a documentary series called 'Wondrous' Wales, giving different aspects of rural life - one was about hill farming in Carmarthenshire's Black Mountains, and the other was about a smallholder in the Brecon Beacons specialising in honey production. Then I watched two episodes of a new drama called 'Crossfire', a fine piece of drama about a murder spree by two disaffected young men in a Canary Island package holiday resort. It portrayed in detail the whole experience from the viewpoint of the many different victims caught up in the shooting. There's more to the story than that, but I'm keeping the final episode for another night.

Blessing true commitment

A lovely hot and sunny start to the week, good for washing bed linen as well as the regular house cleaning tasks. Before cooking lunch I completed this week's Morning Prayer video and uploaded it to YouTube ready for Thursday. In the afternoon we went foraging for blackberries in Pontcanna Fields. It looks as if a lot of picking went on over the weekend, as there were fewer large ripe blackberries to be found, but we came home with nearly a kilo between us.

It was good to hear that the Governing Body of the Church in Wales has approved a proposal by a large and healthy majority of clergy and laity to add a service of blessing the civil partnerships of gay couples to the church's liturgical library. About time too. Next step, the full wedding service for gay couples. If any couple, regardless of gender want to dedicate their lives to each other in lifelong union before God, I see no reason why it can't be seen as marriage. 

The traditionalist view of marriage as the unique hallowed context for procreation doesn't oblige couples to have children. Some exercise the freedom to choose not to. This is also the same for gay couples who may choose to have children or not to have children. Every couple has to think about their role in family and community life, and this is rooted in the loving commitment they make to each other. Faithfulness in all its manifestations is something to give thanks for, and that is the purpose of a blessing service. It celebrates the grace that God has already given the couple. As is true for all of us - by their fruit they shall be known.

I was surprised and not a little troubled to learn that the electoral college came away from their three days of meeting to elect a new Bishop for Swansea and Brecon diocese without a consensus on any candidate. Heaven only knows what's going on here. Will the Welsh Bishops now select and present a candidate for the electoral college to approve? If they choose another from the Church of England, what will that say about their confidence in the Church in Wales to raise its own next generation leadership?

Another fascinating programme this evening about the work of conservators at the Victoria and Albert museum in London. It not only reveals the secrets of restoring worn and broken objects, but also the kind of detective work that sometimes goes into establishing the provenance of particular objects. In the first of the first series, shown again tonight on BBC Four, a seventeenth century snuff box with a lid containing an enamel portrait of a noble lady was examined, to try and identify who she was. 

It contained no inscription, so one of the team set about looking through catalogues of portraits of noble ladies of the period - none of this information was in a digital database - and eventually found a match to a portrait in a stately home. The portrait painter or someone of their workshop was most likely responsible for the enamel, which was remarkably similar in likeness. It was not uncommon for gentlemen obliged to travel away from home for long periods to take a miniature portrait of their beloved on their travels with them, just as we may do with a photo on the home screen of the mobile phone. 

Room for repentance?

Just after posting the link today's video offering of Morning Prayer, I had a call to stand in for Mother Frances at the St John's Eucharist, as she'd fallen and bruised herself badly. There were eight of us for the celebration, and all were concerned to hear of this misfortune, following on from the loss of her partner last month. 

The Gospel of the day contained the Publican's prayer - Lord have mercy on me a sinner - which prompted me to reflect how little penitence finds a place in the church's engagement with society these days. There's now an overlay on the Sunday lectionary and calendar of saints days of worthy themes for celebration and reflection but outside of Lent calls to collective repentance and liturgical expressions of penitence no longer feature, as they did in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries/ Not even Cranmer's Litany. which in former centuries preceded the Sunday Eucharist gets used often these days. I think we're missing something. Are we that uncomfortable with mourning the sorry state affairs the world is in, and beseeching God's mercy?

I learned that the Church in Wales electoral college is meeting at the moment to choose a new Bishop for the diocese of Swansea and Brecon. Who will it be, I wonder? I'm so out of touch with mainstream church affairs that I have no idea who the likely candidates might be. Did the electoral college pray the Litany before starting their deliberations?

After the service I returned home and worked on the audio recording for next Thursday's Morning Prayer, and after cooking lunch, completed the job. I didn't need a siesta, and went for a walk around the park earlier than usual. This meant I had time before supper to watch a French flic movie on More Four. 

I went to choir practice at St Catherine's, although I'm not going to be around to sing very much in the coming months, but wanted to sing anyway. It seems that special kind of energy to make music which I didn't have over the past three years is returning. I'm very glad about this very special sign of healing.

A different kind of Lenten journey

I went to the GP surgery this morning to collect my three monthly medication prescription, then to Boots on Cowbridge Road to collect the pills. We needed some prawns and mushrooms for lunch, so I went on to Tesco's, but there was a queue of twenty people waiting for admission to the store, so I went on further to the Co-op, where I walked straight in, bought what a needed, plus a few other things, then headed for home. Our Shrove Tuesday special lunch was pancakes, with a savoury filling, Clare cooked the pancakes and I did the filling - fried mushrooms and an onion plus garlic, prawns and seasonings. Two each, filling a dinner plate. There were two thinner spare ones for sweet. Clare ate hers but I kept mine for supper and filled it with home made hummus, avocado slices and grated vegan cheese. A worthwhile experiment, to be repeated with variations another time! 

Although it rained a little in the morning, it was mild again, ten degrees. After lunch, when I went out for a walk the sun shone through the clouds. I did a few circuits of Thomson's Park then headed through the back streets up to the top end of Llandaff Fields, and then back home, enjoying the afternoon sunlight and shadows on the grass. Everyone out in the fresh air seemed to be smiling more and not so turned in on themselves as happens when it's cold wet and windy, which is all we seem to have had in January.

Lent starts tomorrow, and I understand the Bishops have issued instructions about how to perform the rite of Ashing, without physical contact with worshippers in church, and suggestions on how to do it on-line. I confess I haven't bothered to read up on this as I'm not taking a service, and in our parish there is not service to go to, just an on-line liturgy, but I understand it somehow involves self- administered sprinkling of ashes over the head. I find the idea surreal, and utterly disconnected from what is meant to be a visceral physical experience, of having one's forehead smeared with ash to the words remember 'you are but dust'. I think I can do without playing let's pretend games. 

I could jump ship so to speak, and go to a church where a Mass is happening live, but I am a parishioner here, first and a priest only when invited. I want to share the same experience of disappointment and deprivation at the reality of churches closed for worship when they needn't be. This experience isn't foreign to lay people at different times in life. It's easy to forget this when you've had the responsibilities and privileges of being a priest for over fifty years. The treasured rites and ceremonies of Catholic tradition have been part and parcel of my life and supported my faith journey for the past sixty years. This year will be different, stripped back to the foundation - scripture, tradition, reason, and the passage of time without add-ons. 'We do not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God'.

At the moment I have no idea what Lenten exercises, if any, I am going to undertake. Much of the past eleven and a half months have felt like Lent, so much time in solitude, vigilant, exercising restraint and praying through the events of each day, though not without distractions, anxiety, boredom. Being back at home, secure and healthy with a degree of domestic routine stability is such a blessing. With far less to do in terms of ministry, it's more difficult to find a sense of meaning in life when I've been so fortunate to be active, even in retirement until now. I could do with a project or two, on which to focus me life creatively but opportunity and inspiration have so far escaped me. I'd rather do something to benefit others than just to satisfy my own needs. All I can do is wait and stay open who whatever emerges I guess.

Yesterday I ordered another batch of the sterile swabs I use for everyday wound dressing. Delivery takes two to three days, no need to pay for fast track 24 hour service. The delivery invoice said delivery will be tomorrow. We were both out walking when the courier van turned up a day early! Fortunately the firm has a local parcel collection point in a convenience store on Clare Road, ten minutes walk from home, and I was able to retrieve my ordered parcel at the end of the deliveryman's round. Impressive service from the supplier FirstAid4Less and the courier DPD.

In the evening, we watched a fascinating programme on BBC Four about excavations of stone age sites in the Orkneys. It's thought that British megalithic culture and stone circle sacred sites originated there and spread south into Scotland, Wales and England.  It's amazing the way current technologies and forensics are being applied to uncovering the past, supplying evidence that obliges us to re-think how civilization evolved in the British Isles. This was followed by a programme about Pluscarden Benedictine Monastery in Scotland, continuously in use as a monastery since its foundation in 1230. The monks wear the all white habit of Primitive Observance Benedictines, a sub-group of the family of Benedictines who live by the older more austere version of Benedict's rule which still involves routine subsistence manual labour. It was beautifully done, alluring to watch, but I quite after ten minute  and will view the series about monasteries on catch-up, rather than have a late night, and lose much of the morning as a result.

Church on hold again?

There were twenty of us for the Eucharist at St Catherine's this morning. The new covid variant scare is having hitting people's confidence. It seems tonight's PCC is set to discuss whether or not to continue to offer public worship, as some attendees are slower to disperse from the churchyard than is considered to be desirable. 

Clergy are being enjoined not to stand outside to greet people from a suitable distance as they leave, as this leads to people hanging around outdoors. Outside the church gates on the street, in the shops, the risks will be high because the public realm isn't as well controlled. It doesn't take much to ask people not to take off their masks while they are within the gates. They'll understand why. Outside, it's up to each person to assess risk for themselves.

It troubles me that if clergy can't see and hail worshippers from afar and ask how they are, offer a word of support and encouragement, what will it do to pastoral relationships? On-line isn't enough, a face on a screen doesn't allow a pastor to notice the true colour of someone's complexion, their tone of voice, their movement when they walk, all of which inform the relationship the shepherd has with the flock. I found it in Ibiza - seeing only half a dozen people over a three month period, face to face, very occasionally. It was impossible to establish meaningful pastoral relationships with people I was there to serve. That was the worst thing, not being able to assess from personal contact what was really happening to people. Social media can't be trusted when it comes to baring one's soul. 

And all this happens on a day when the key Gospel phrase is 'Come and see ...' 

It comes in a week when a contagion expert said on the news that the risk is far less outdoors, with or without a mask, although research into this is still on-going and not yet peer reviewed and published. The most serious risk is in uncontrolled indoor settings, like supermarkets, on which new health and safety requirements have been imposed of necessity this weekend. If data on supermarket based contagion is available, why not data on contagion in compliant churches? Without proper information, judgements are likely to be made on the basis of anxious hearsay - as if we needed that!

In church, we pray in a highly controlled environment, sitting in well spaced out pews, wearing obligatory masks. Those who attend behave considerately of others, and don;t hang about indoors longer than they need to. We're told there's a hugely increased risk, but without a shred of data to show how many Anglican congregations worshipping together compliantly are known to have been involved in transmitting infection. Sure, a few churches have blatantly ignored the risk from the outset, carried on as normal and become 'superspreaders', but does that mean the rest of us can't be trusted to behave compliantly?  Caution, self-discipline, good information are always essential in Christian conduct, even more so in such dangerous days. Timidity is understandable and inevitable, recklessness is folly, but giving in to the tide of fear - how does that witness to the Gospel?

On my walk in the park after lunch, the Taff water level was down again and the resident Merganser was back on the rock slabs where family can be seen. On the same outcrop stood a cormorant as I was passing and I got a nice photo of the two of them in each other's space. The merganser moved ,then fluffed up its feathers as it turned its back on the cormorant. The cormorant then plopped into the water and took off.

Afterwards, I decided to have a go at reclaiming space in my Gmail accounts now 85% full. If storage fills up completely I'll be required to rent extra space, but why bother if most of the data stored is redundant or irrelevant? Last year I deleted emails from 2007 when I registered the accounts, up to 2010 when I retired. Since then, a great number of emails were CBS correspondence, not necessary to keep as they are copied on the CBS Gmail account. 

Over the past ten years, the size of photo attachments has risen tenfold, as many senders don't bother to downsize them before sending. Also thousands of notifications that should have been deleted weren't. Google's fast search options mask the accumulation of redundant files and big attachments. After an hour's work, I got rid of ten gigabytes of data on one account and seven on another. One thing which I discovered on other file storage systems too. The deleted content of the account trash can must also be deleted before file space is reclaimed. Sneaky that one! A worthwhile effort, I think.

I had an email after lunch from Emma in the Euro-diocesan office about the new requirement for holders of PTO doing locum duty that they now need to do a further on-line Safeguarding training, before their PTO is renewed. The five year renewal cycle has been reduced to three years, the accent on training is welcome in a fast changing environment, especially regarding the rise of on-line forms of abuse. Emma works from home in deepest rural Essex where, like here they've had phenomenal amounts of rain. There was a tiny video clip of the little stream at the bottom of her garden, swollen and spilling over its banks. It's the same in many parts of Britain.

Much to my surprise, I had an email from Bishop June while I was out walking, noting with appreciation my small effort to support the Parish ministry team these past few months. How could I do anything else as an elderly churchgoer who happens to be ordained and still fit enough to function from time to time. In present circumstances ministry is extra difficult and demanding of new skills, stamina and patience. It's a relief to me that I no longer have responsibility for holding everything together and giving a lead. Acting on orders, as long as I can do that well and correctly is all I can hope to do nowadays. It's not a bad thing at all. President to be Joe Biden is my age. I'm glad not to be in his shoes! 

ON telly tonight, we watched the first of a six part drama about a woman whose property developer husband dies mysteriously at 48 while he's showing them around the high tech new home he's just had built for them to move into. It's a sort of black comedy, that may turn into a comedy crimmie, I suppose. In my Geneva days I was summoned urgently to offer pastoral support to the traumatized wife and daughter of a member of the congregation who was a banker. He dropped dead in the middle of a working day, and I was asked to accompany them to the chapel of rest where his body had just been laid out. He was still in his work suit, looking smart, eerie and unreal. 'That's not my Daddy!' exclaimed his 13 year old daughter, and they both wept. 

Watching this brought it all back to me, whether it was really true to life or not. That made it uncomfortable to watch, not entertaining at all. I am interested in how it plays out, however, given the problems which arise when someone dies intestate or mired in debt or cash-flow issues, especially as bank accounts are automatically frozen when someone dies. It's understandable that some elderly people are still in the habit of keeping a stash of cash under the bed, reluctant to entrust all their wordly goods to the self serving paranoia of a modern banking system.

Eco-parable

I went to the Eucharist at St John's this morning and then went to Tesco's to buy a HP printer ink cartridge for Clare. I was astonished at how expensive they now are, unless I suppose you buy one on-line from an official seller. Mother Frances spoke again about the Ministry Area merger, which again got me thinking. She spoke from the scriptures of the day about the difference small things can make, (e.g. grains of wheat,  mustard seeds) and how every small contribution from a disciple of Christ adds up to great things. Agreed, so why is bigger better when it comes to proposed ministry areas? 

Among biblical references to agriculture, fields occur several times. Breaking down field boundaries and walls isn't a part of planned growth. Destruction by enemies of a land owner is part of a plan to degrade undermine and subject people to the power of others. It happens all the time in the struggle for control in business and politics, so it seems unfortunate when it becomes a strategy for institutional survival. 

The church has seen its far share of political tensions and conflicts between conservatives and liberals when it comes to accepting and acting in response to social change. Can't we come up with a better way to build, nurture, maintain church communities? If church decline leads to weakness and death, that would be nothing new in history. It's a natural process, more like ecological and biological processes than man-made management designs and strategies. Within our own West Cardiff Ministry area is the ruin of a mediaeval church on a hilltop where once there was a village, and before that an Iron Age settlement. Once the river plain on which the city stands developed with industry the old hamlet on the hill died out. 

Cultural rather than demographic change has lead to the demise of the church in our time, but which church communities will die and which will come through decline remains to be seen. I don't think we really understand well enough the evolutionary process we are living through. But why not just let it happen, rather than try and fix things with another pastoral reorganisation?

On my walk in Pontcanna Fields this afternoon, the length of west bank of the Taff this afternoon, was being cleared of undergrowth and saplings, a zealous crop to say the least, perhaps the  first for a decade. I imagine that this is seen as a flash flood prevention measure, since river bank trees and bramble patches snag floating detritus, and hinder water flow. If detritus builds up along river banks, flood water will back up and burst the banks. 

We had such an incident back in February this year. So lessons have been learned. Birds and bunnies lose out at first, it's inevitable, due to habitat loss, but there are other wild areas close by. Come the spring, the brambles will grow back and stumps of the waterside willows will sprout fresh shoots to provide a perch for the few kingfishers along the river. For the first time in more than a month a heron was perched on the east bank witnessing clearance work. Bute Park side of the river is still a mess. I wonder to what extent clearance work will take place over there in weeks to come? Urban development has altered the course of the river from the days when much of the plain was tidal wetland, so it needs much maintenance to prevent flooding, not least because natural growth and decline, for better or worse, never ceases. It's an environmental lesson modern church leadership fails to take seriously.

Time, place and context

There were ten of us for the midweek Eucharist at St Catherine's this morning. Mother Frances spoke to us about the imminent formation of the new West Cardiff Ministry Area, grouping Canton Benefice with the Parishes of Glanely, Caerau with Ely and Fairwater. The existing benefices will be legally dissolved to merge into one Parish six historic parishes, in what will be, in effect, one giant Rectorial Benefice of the kind now commonplace in many rural areas of Britain. Incumbent clerics will be licensed as priests in charge, and the status of curates and NSM will be much the same, except that they may be required to work across old borders I suppose, not that it doesn't happen now when need arises. 

Mother Frances is Team Leader designate. What a job to take on when she's only been here a year and two months. It's a new role and it will involve a great deal of admin given seven church buildings and a team of seven clerics and heaven know how many lay people in voluntary or paid specialised roles to manage. I'm sure she's capable enough to do the job, but she came to us because she wanted to return to parochial life from a diocesan role which by its nature would have involved much admin. Out of the frying pan into the fire, unfortunately.

Never has there been a time when collaborative ministry his more necessary to care for people in a geographical area of about eighty thousand people, of whom less than a thousand may be committed contributing churchgoers. Far more people than those who believe enough to attend look to the church for rites of passage and support in times of crisis, let alone those who engage with church youth and educational undertaking, and this dimension tends to be quite locally based, although not exclusively. It's hard to see how a wholesale reformation of institutional structures is going to work out. 

The structures we have represent the consolidation of historically based missionary enterprises. Church planting went on from ancient times in Wales. It started with the christianizing of pagan holy sites, or with monastic settlements set up near trade routes, which later grew into towns. From Norman times the sub-division of territory into parochial areas was imposed by the state, and fragments of many historic boundaries still remain as part of Church in Wales diocesan maps. Some larger ancient territories were subdivided or merged since the reformation due to the demise of settlements in one place and emergence of new ones elsewhere. 

When urban populations expanded during the industrial revolution, new parishes were carved out of the old, and church planting went ahead at a phenomenal rate in an effort to meet the pastoral needs of the masses. In this century when the masses have turned their backs on the church, the assets of a former generation have become today's liability. Cardiff has less than half of the salaried clergy it had when I returned from Europe eighteen years ago, and a quarter to a fifth of the membership. Certainly radical measures are required when the institutional church is dying, but we have no idea of what a resurrection of the church could look like. 

Church structures and the people who serve them can be tinkered with and altered, but plans fail when circumstances change and how we've witnessed this during the pandemic! Planning is essential, but it's vital to focus around qualities and values. How can ministers and communities become more resilient and flexible, creative in response to change? What's needed to make a worshipping body sustainable if not re-grow from scratch, in the absence of resources? Where do we start while things are still falling apart? Questions I've pondered on for years. The response so much depends on time, place and context.

Biblical metaphors that relate to the propagation of the Gospel are chiefly organic and to cultivation - parables relating to fields, seeds whose form must die to flourish and be fruitful, tiny things that grow into big things, trees and bushes that need pruning. Time, place and context, i,e, environment, are all essential, and it seems to me that grand plans, however well informed and designed, may not achieve all that has been achieved by piecemeal effort, starting with individual responses. It's not about resources. "Silver and gold have I none." said St Peter when he dived straight into healing ministry soon after Pentecost. And St Francis standing in the ruined chapel of Porziuncula, hearing the Lord say to him "Francis rebuild my church!" and then picking up first of many scattered stones to add to a broken wall. The spontaneous expansion of the church in China and Africa happened through the actions of untrained laity, whether or not they've had clergy leadership or support. Growth actually slowed down when clergy were imported to head up the mission in places where it was already well under way. A church which is clerically top heavy in leadership may be doomed to extinction. I hope we don't lose sight of such lessons from scripture and missionary tradition.

Having cooked and eaten lunch, I fetched this week's organic veg bag, then walked in the park for an hour, and got back at sunset. Then, Clare and I sat and watched the last three episodes of 'Fear by the Lake', which turned out not to be about countering bio-terrorist plot, but a psychotic primary school teacher on a personal revenge mission. A bit far fetched, although the portrayal of the the response by the major incident medical emergency response team showcased medics and the gendarmerie working at fictional pace to establish city wide lockdown, deal with violent incidents and get a field hopsital up and running by the end of day two. An experimental antidote was knocked up at fictional lightning speed by a top expert in under a day. Would that real life could be fast forwarded to a happy ending like a movie.

There was a telling mini-story line in which a group of a dozen or so asylum seekers escaped from their lock-down at a reception centre and presented themselves for duty at the gendarmerie field hospital, as each of them had been doctors or nurses in their home countries. A neat piece of movie fiction advocacy to champion the cause of asylum seekers to work and be useful in their place of refuge. It's a hot potato political issue across Europe and beyond. 

It was a good watch and less difficult to get the gist of what was going on (with or without the subtitles) because the past ten months have exposed us all to the vocabulary of medical statistics in a way without precedent. Not so much a feel-good movie, but one perhaps to make us feel less bad. We'll get to where we wish we were, eventually.

On this day

Fifty years ago today I was ordained priest by Archbishop Glyn Simon in Llandaff Cathedral. I often think about that moment, kneeling under Epstein's glorious 'Majestas' sculpture. I see his masterwork, as being a Son of Man image, given the Christ figure has no wounds. When he was Dean of Llandaff after the war he Dean Glyn was the driving force of Cathedral restoration after bomb damage, and the installation of the 'Majestas' was part of that, and controversial from the start. It looks as fresh and engaging today as it did when I first saw it as a kid sixty years ago. It still says to me 'And who is this man?'

I was in awe of +Glyn when I met him as an undergraduate in Bristol. His son Nick was in the same hall of residence as I was, and on an occasion when +Glyn visited, I invited him and his to tea in my room. He was a quiet scholarly mild mannered man. I'm not sure if at that time I was thinking about ordination, but the fact that he accepted my invitation made an impression on me. It was many years later I discovered that in his early career he had been Warden of Church Hostel in Bangor, a student residence for theologians and ordinands. Being at ease with students came naturally to him.

He was a year away from retirement at the time of my ordination, and suffering from Parkinson's disease. Typically flippant and tasteless in their irreverent banter, some ordinands speculated about whether the Holy Spirit would 'take' to the candidate from trembling hands. Some bizarre understandings of the grace of Holy Orders as a kind of magical ritual contagion knocked around in those days. It didn't reflect what was learned at College, but acquired on the way there from eccentric traditionalists.

We started the day with our usual Saturday pancake breakfast. I finished the sermon and went to the shops before cooking lunch, an experiment with stuffed peppers for me and a making veggie burgers for Clare, using couscous and soya mince. A learning experience. I did two shorter walks in the afternoon to vary my activity pattern to mitigate the problem of painful feet after a long walk. I'm need to insert more rest into my physical activity I think, being a bit fragile at the moment with unresolved blood pressure and wound infection concerns. Accepting that I'm more vulnerable these days is very hard. I wish I was fifty years younger, without the inexperience and lack of confidence of course!

It struck me that +Glyn's trembling hands and voice were a sign of vulnerability in a person of authority and spiritual leadership in the Welsh Church. That give a senses of perspective, reminding those who are in awe of power that Christ's strength is perfected in our weakness. Tomorrow's sermon is going to be about ordination as making space for a person to lead and serve the community, and in that space, to make space for others to be and become truly themselves. 

I've often wondered how I was found acceptable for ordination when I was just enthusiastic but lacking in certainty, confidence, and competence as well it seems to me. It's taken a long time to understand that others made space for me to be and become myself in ministry. It's what's happening at the heart of all the sacramental actions of the church. The Holy Spirit is the Comforter - the Hebrew word for 'comfort' means to make space for others. It's what it means to be Church for others. I'm sad and ashamed that so often the Church falls short in something as simple as this.

Quarantine Cymru - day Eight

Another blue sky hot day to rejoice and relax in, St John Baptist's Day in fact. I received two audio files from Sarah and was able to complete work on next Sunday's audio service - this must be record time for me. The benefit of being at home perhaps, and wonderfully looked after by Clare?

I had a long catch-up phone call with Martin, who shared with me the work he is doing on a farewell sermon for Fr Derek Belcher a contemporary of his, now retiring from his House for Duty post rather earlier than expected for reasons over which he had no control. The force majeure at work in the church isn't covid-19, but rather the financial and structural crisis precipitated by the implosion of church membership over the past forty years. 

I cannot get my head around the idea of clergy being made in effect redundant, and after a lifetime of service being treated no longer as an office holder supported by the church or supporting themselves, but rather treated as an employee with responsibilities but with limited rights. Something isn't right about the reforming process that's been working over the past decade.

We're seeing the withdrawal of a church pastoral presence from rural communities and impoverished valleys,with resources redeployed into a range of missionary initiatives aiming at creating new worshipping communities 'fresh expressions of church' as they are called, allied to new specialisms in ministry, to generate fresh support, meaning financial support. Will this work, now that the world and its economies are being turned upside down by the pandemic? 

Recent emphasis seems to me to have been on ensuring the institutional church as we've known it for several centuries can survive, even if in a slimmed down form. Unanswered remains the question of how the church can become 'devoid of means of power, ready too share with all ...' (to quote the 1970 Joyful News from the Taize community). A church of the poor and for the poor, open to all.

Martin's pertinent observations about the culture shift that's being going on in the church as it has been in society, losing its rich depth and rootedness in the best values and endeavours of society,  certainly resonated with me. I was reminded of things James Baldwin said in last night's viewing of the Arena documentary 'I am not a Negro'. It turned out that Martin also watched and had been inspired by it.

This evening I made an effort to tidy up and file away all the digital documents and finished audio projects I'd made in Ibiza. It took me ages to do this as I worked rather messily and didn't do much tidying up as I went along. Serves me right.

Strict measures

This morning I drove out the San Rafel to attend the nine o'clock prayer prayer meeting, led by Sarah. It was my first time to navigate my way to the church since Sarah took me there to show me on Wednesday before going to the house, and I was only a few minutes late finding my way there. It was nicely structured around the Common Worship Office of Morning Prayer with almost an hour's detailed intercession list for the chaplaincy's people and ministry, the diocese and the wider world. Time well spent in my opinion.

The village church, dedicated to the healing angel at the crossroads (as in the deutero-canonical book of Tobias) holds about a hundred and fifty people, and has a fair sized porch area outside where open air activities can be held in a sheltered open air space. Simple but effective social design. Afterwards the six of us went to the bar/restaurant in the main street for coffee and bread covered with tomato pulp and olive oil, the standard Spanish breakfast snack. We chatted for an hour then went our separate ways.

I'm getting into the habit now of cooking for lunch every other day, enough for two, as I would at home. I don't mind the repetition, and sometimes add extras second time around. Then I went for a walk along the Cala Bassa road, just to look at the landscape, although I didn't go all the way there as I didn't want to over reach myself. On the way back I stopped as Es Cuco, to buy some chicken, breast which I fancied for a change, and cooked it when I got back. That will do me several meals I suspect.

Clare called me while I was at the shop, and we talked while I was walking and then at home for over an hour on WhatsApp. Before early bed, I have to prepare for tomorrow. Instructions about communion and the coronavirus have just been issued by the diocese in Europe, banning intinction so what we thought we'd do tomorrow must now change. The Church in Wales instructions are just as strict. The CofE instruction allow a little discretion for people in unaffected areas, I suppose. European chaplaincies are on the front line. Genoa chaplaincy, I understand, has stopped meeting  and is video streaming worship to member's digital devices instead. I hope it doesn't come to that everywhere. I quite like the idea of using the international deaf sign language greeting of peace as social physical contact is now discouraged if not banned. How many outgoing people will forget, I wonder?
 

Flood alert weekend

Yesterday, it had rained heavily at night and continued for part of the day as well. Dangerous weather warnings were issued by the Met Office. It was just as well I had a Sunday sermon to finish. During a break in the weather, I walked to Blackweir Bridge and took photos of the Taff, turned into a raging torrent with the water level on the west side so high it was lapping at the edge of the footpath. I'd never seen it so high before. 

On BBC Four in the evening a second series of crime drama 'Hidden', set in North Wales occupied the prime time crime at nine slot. The cops are the same as last time, but the baddies are a group of three disturbed teenagers up to sinister no good things. Very promising.

This morning, I was back in St Samson's again at nine, preaching on the 'Creation Sunday' theme in the Revised Common Lectionary. I was caught out, however. The parish uses the Roman Lectionary scheme of Sundays in 'Ordinary Time' with a totally different set of readings. I had to hunt through a couple of Lectionary books with scriptural indices to find the readings I was expecting and ask for these to be read instead. My request was  received graciously, and we started on time.

After the service I returned home, and then walked down to Pontcanna Fields to take a look at the state of the river after a second night of heavy rain. I heard on the news that the Taff had burst its banks and caused flooding up at Pontypridd, Nantgarw and Llandaff North, so I was interested to see what impact this exceptional volume of water passing underneath Blackweir Bridge would have.

Not only was the field between the footpath and the dyke flooded, but also half of the field a couple of feet above it. This was due to water breaking through a higher up on the west bank and pouring into the edge of the north side field where the dyke is not so pronounced and the ground slightly more level, so the north side flooded at the higher level and poured over the footpath into the south side. It was quite spectacular to see. The re-engineering of the river bank to improve flood defences was undertaken after Cardiff was flooded back in 1979. Apparently, today the Taff rose 80cm higher than it did on that occasion, so the work done was really put to the test, perhaps like never before.

There was a steady flow of people coming to see and take photos like me. The sensible ones had green wellies on, a few cycled through, and some like me risked the shallows and either turned back or got their feet wet. That's what happened to me. But I got some interesting photos, both yesterday and today. You can see them here.

Martin and Chris invited me over to lunch. One of their guests was a doctor friend from Martin's days as Vicar of Pontyclun, whose brother is one of the GPs in our surgery. The other was the recently retired Bishop of Monmouth Richard Pain, whom I have known for thirty years, through our shared association with Ty Mawr Convent. Neither of us can remember when we last met. I wasn't around when he was consecrated Bishop. It was a lovely afternoon of conversation, eating and drinking fine wines, just catching up and reflecting on ministerial life and the present parlous state of the Church in Wales. It was a respite from solitude which I much appreciated.

Historic anomaly

Another Bank Holiday Monday, a bright and sunny day, perfect for a walk to the far west side of the Parish to visit a couple whose one year old son I will be baptizing at St Luke's in a month's time. Both are busy young professionals and this was the best opportunity we could arrange to meet for a briefing. It was nice to discover that both of them come from churchgoing families. 

They were married three years ago in the 12 century chapel of St Pierre, near Chepstow, a place where I remember celebrating Holy Communion according the the 1662 Book of Common Prayer in the days when I worked for USPG and helped in local churches on weekends when I wasn't away preaching. 

St Pierre was a chapel of ease belonging to the mediaeval manor of the same name, in the Parish of Mathern. It's now a prestigious golf club. It was one of a few Church in Wales churches which didn't in those days adopt the new service book, calling on the legal right to retain the old liturgy as long as the church committee approved. I wonder if it's still in use there?

I got back in time for lunch. We intended to go out down the Bay to visit the Urdd Eisteddfod, but we never got around to it, as both of us pottered around with other things to do.

We're currently being hit by robo-scam calls as I call them, threats to have broadband disconnected and this one offering a press button menu of several options, all of which probably are expensive to activate. These seem to be voice activated, and if you pick up and say nothing the rest of the call message isn't triggered. The number on the dial display points to a Glasgow exchange, and several different numbers get used. The scammers use genuine but redundant numbers in the i/d displayed by the device they use.

We get about half a dozen calls a day, between nine and six. TalkTalk offers a reporting service to get the numbers blocked, but it's actually quite an inconvenience to do this since these keep changing. We could deploy the call filtering service TalkTalk offers, but I'm not sure about the impact of this on occasional legitimate callers. It's bound to be annoying, so we'll have done no more than shift our annoyance to someone else.
   

May meetings

This morning I celebrated the midweek Eucharist at St Catherine's with nine others. Not only did we remember Saints Philip and James, but also St Mark the Evangelist and St George the Martyr whose feast days were transferred from Easter Week to this week. As there were no weekday services in the Benefice last week it was an opportunity not to forget them.

Then, after popping home for an unusually late morning dressing change, I went into town to meet Laura at St John's City Parish Church. The Eucharist was just ending there, and she was sitting at the front of the nave absorbing the celebration prayerfully. I met half a dozen of the church's regulars over lunch in the tea room afterwards, and learned that the Governing Body of the Church in Wales had held its opening Eucharist in church earlier in the morning. Apparently the two day meeting is taking place in City Hall, as it did for the first time a couple of years ago.

Since her last visit, Laura's father died, aged 82. He was an Orthodox priest and a holy man. The last two months of his life were spent in the hospital where she works. For her, this was a profound inspiring experience, bringing them closer together than ever before, and changing how she sees her medical vocation. Sadly, she'll only be able to visit Sheila, the other inspirational elder in her life to say farewell at Roath Court funeral home. Laura has given me a beeswax candle from back home to light and burn at the altar at Sheila's funeral service.


  

No change but a change of air

During the night I was conscious of the arrival of high winds, not just from the noise outside, but from a perceptible change of air. That sounds odd, but the coastal plain Cardiff inhabits suffers from polluted air when weeks pass without a breeze. It's got worse in recent years with increased traffic congestion. There are times when I'm returning home from a walk in the park, that there's a noticeable difference between the air out in Llandaff or Pontcanna Fields, and the air along Penhill Road, the penultimate leg, which reeks of diesel fumes from standing traffic. 

Cardiff Council's published pollution maps confirm from monitoring data what a healthy sense of smell detects. We're two hundred yards from Penhill Road and our street is very quiet. The scent of pollution isn't so obvious at home from day to day, but when a strong wind blows, the difference quite marked. I wish we lived in the country or near the sea, though I can't see us moving house again. We just need to get out and away more often, to take the air.

I went to St John's to celebrate the midweek Eucharist this morning but Fr Chris Lee turned up to take the service as well,due to a double booking error. I felt glad to sit with the congregation and worship. The only other times I've been able to do that for a long time have been on a couple of weekend trips to Kenilworth to look after Rhiannon. It's so good to be on the receiving end and be ministered to, and it was lovely to chat with Chris after the service.

Following a brief trip to the bank and to shops I returned home for lunch, and then went out on foot to make a bereavement visit at the west end of Canton Parish. As I wasn't sure of my street destination, I checked on Google Maps, which set me the quickest walking route. This proved misleading when, two third of the way through the journey, I was led into a side street, to get to the main road by a shortcut, whose only exit was closed off with a 'residents only access' security gate. One hears of this happening with sat-nav car directions leading to dead ends on country lanes, but don't expect it in a heavily built up area on a walking route! Anyway, it only delayed me by a few minutes, and then an hour later I was on my way home again.

Kath and Rhiannon had arrived by the time I returned. Kath returns tomorrow as she and Anto work this weekend. Rhiannon will end her half term and 13th birthday week with us. The Clare and I will drive with her back to Kenilworth on Sunday. I'll stay for a couple of nights, and Clare for the week to look after Rhiannon, as Kath and Anto have another busy week of Wriggledance touring gigs in parts of the country where next week is half term, not this one. Such is the life of an artistic family. We're just glad to be able to support them, and have time together with them in between engagements.

After tea we went for a walk down to the river Taff. Rhiannon walked arm in arm with me and told me all about her birthday pizza party the night before. It was heartwarming, despite the powerful chilling effect from the strong north wind sweeping through the region. The evening highlight of was watching 'Death in the Caribbean' on the telly, a rather old fashioned detective story reminiscent of another era. And despite our various efforts, none of us guessed who the murderer was.

No news of the election of a Bishop this evening from Llandaff Cathedral. The electoral college was unable to come to a consensus, nor to a 2/3rds majority vote. Nobody knows why, as participants are bound by an oath of confidentiality. Those outside, anxious for a result to gossip about, fantasise and joke instead in Facebook postings. If we have to choose a new father-in-God, this is I suppose as good if not better than any other ways. Public electoral campaigns are to my mind anathema. Discernment has been entrusted to trustworthy electors, themselves elected to office. When discernment fails everyone is bound to worry somewhat. If the electoral college fails, the Bishops meet and appoint someone. How long we have to wait for this to happen has not yet been announced, as far as I know. Let's hope it happens soon. 

   

Questions about Christian learning and initiation

A quiet uneventful solitary Saturday, with a long walk around Bute Park to the city centre, rather than driving to the coast. This past few days my hearing has been impaired both by catarrh and a build up of ear wax, which hasn't responded to treatment with a proper removal fluid. It's very unpleasant and saps enjoyment from normal activity of every kind.

This morning I went to St John's Canton to celebrate their Candlemas sung Eucharist and was taken aback by just how difficult it was to hold conversations with people, let alone take the service with ease. A setting of the Mass was used which I am not very familiar with. I could hardly hear the congregation singing my hearing was so impaired, and this made it impossible to give a lead with singing as I usually do.

Seven children, all around seven years old were admitted to Communion for the first time. Dominic, one of the students on Parish Placement has been working with the children in Sunday school over months past to prepare them, and he asked if he could give them their first Communion, and I readily agreed. From there, I went on to St German's for a repeat of the Eucharist and ceremonies of Candlemas. I remembered how this feast gave me one of my first experiences of Anglo Catholic rites and ceremonies when I was a chemistry student, in the church St Mary Tyndalls Park in Bristol, which closed forty years ago. It was a church on my route home from the lab, with an open door and people like Simeon and Anna there with a welcome smile for a stranger.

Later in the day, I started thinking about the admission of children to Communion before Confirmation, now increasingly commonplace, although it has met with mixed reception, within parishes and in Anglican churches across the world. In some Provinces like USA and Canada it has become the new 'normal', whereas in more traditional African and Asian Provinces, no matter what church leaders think or say, it's not been 'received' unanimously by church members.

Anglican tradition makes much of Confirmation as an expression of informed personal commitment, and has long made it a requirement of those receiving Communion although the Book of Common Prayer states that reception is for those who are Baptized and Confirmed, or ready and desirous of being Confirmed by the Bishop. In the age before railways and modern roads, when it was that much more difficult for bishops and laity to travel distances and gather for a Confirmation, it gave a degree of discretion to parish clergy about giving Communion to those considered to be ready, no matter what their age. 

For centuries the Roman church has admitted young children to Communion before Confirmation, as I have seen on several occasions on holiday or working in Spain, where First Communion is a big event, requiring a gathering of the clans for far and wide to recognise and support candidates. In some regions where the difficulties of travel remain a hindrance, senior Catholic clergy are licensed to confirm suitably instructed candidates. 

Catechism and Confirmation at the end of the process are duties of the local Pastor in Lutheran and Reformed church parochial life, and early admission to Communion before Confirmation has become part of their regular churchgoing life in recent decades. There's a good deal of variety among Christians in the way Christian initiation and learning connect to the life of discipleship for both children and adults. 

In Orthodox Churches, Baptism, Confirmation and admission to Communion are inseparable parts of Christian initiation, no matter what the age of the candidate, infant or adult. Understanding faith is a continuous process of growth, and no matter what formal catechetical process may be undertaken in Christian schools or parishes, the prayer, liturgy and iconography of the Church are the basis of all that needs to be learned, through belonging and participation. 

There are so many different approaches, but at the heart of the matter is the question of how to ensure people get to know and understand faith in God through Jesus Christ and engage in Christian life in a way that is appropriate to their maturity and ability, their context and need to grow. In many secular westernised countries, each strand of Christian tradition finds it is facing different challenges these days. Patterns of church attendance are more irregular as established community life gets disrupted by economic or social issues which force migration on settled people. Lack of nurturing continuity is a feature of common experience. 

When families are on the move, from one place to another in which their traditional community life is not replicated, it can be difficult for any child or adult to follow a course of Christian learning, let alone participate in regular worship, or fit into a routine parochial pattern of Christian initiation. This is quite apart from the competitive distraction of Sunday sports and other entertainment, which can undermine participation in church life altogether. It takes great determination as well as suitable opportunities for parents to see their children fully catechized and initiated. How is it possible to acknowledge this need and work to meet it?

Fifty years ago I met Orthodox Archbishop Anthony Bloom at a baptism in a house in Bristol, and in the course of conversation he said that one of the things he appreciated about Anglicanism was the devout seriousness with which people were prepared for and received Holy Communion. It took me a long time to realise he wasn't just talking about our prayers and devotions, or the quiet seriousness with which Anglicans tend to approach the Holy Table. This was about instruction and preparation for Confirmation, the effort made to lead people to informed and conscious commitment, as a means to fuller participation. It makes sense, though in reality it's more haphazard and less systematic a process than it appears. Assimilation of tradition through worship and preaching also play their part. How we learn and grow spiritually is a rich complex process. It's true regardless of religious origins and background.

The Church in Wales still regards Confirmation as an important sacramental expression of informed commitment to Christian discipleship, though I think it needs working on to establish what the right time and place in life for this should be. It has however, recently reaffirmed that Baptism is the sole requirement for admission to Communion, enabling adults from other Christian traditions as well as children to receive the hospitality of the Eucharist in its churches. This is a positive move in response to the need of a faithful people to find a welcome wherever they are, or decide to settle in this world of uprootedeness. 

Believing, belonging, participation are essential to the growth of individuals in Christian community. But what of the initiation that takes place through learning, catechesis? If you look back over the past couple of centuries you'll see lots of different kinds of initiative for children and adults. Despite immense effort made by teachers and pastors to reach out and meet the need, those who remain committed and active at the end of the process is but a small fraction of the numbers that have disengaged and fallen away. How can we nurture a sense that believing, belonging, participation in worship are an essential aspect of who we are and what we do with our lives today, as it ever was? Is there one answer to this question? Or many? I just don't know.

        

Farewell letter

This morning, despite feeling under the weather, for no reason I can understand, there was work to do. A funeral office to prepare for next Thursday, a sermon for Sunday, and the monthly diocesan Ad Clerum to be read, containing Archbishop Barry's touching farewell letter to his clergy before he steps down next month. Retirement for him must look very different now from what he might have imagined or planned just a couple of years ago, since his wife Hilary died, and he himself has just come through cancer surgery. Everyone hopes and prays that he'll have some time left to re-discover the blessings of life in all its beauty and simplicity after so many of his later years being devoted to high office with a national public profile. He has served the Church in Wales wonderfully well, and led the faithful in facing up to the challenges of change and decline with intelligence, integrity and courage. Such distinguished exemplary leadership.

I had intended to go to Martin Jones' funeral in St Woolos Cathedral this morning, but didn't feel up to the drive. Only after lunch did I begin to feel like my usual self.  Later, I took advantage of the improvement in the condition of my knee, to get some fresh air, walking into town to Motorpoint Arena via the covered market and back, a distance of over 6km. I visited the new speciality cheese stall in the market, called the Cheese Pantry, selling goat and sheep cheese made in Britain. Jolly good they are too. I do hope this venture will be successful. It's a great addition to a new generation of high quality food stalls which are so good for its reputation as a must visit venue for 'foodies'. All the market needs now is a high class restaurant on-site to showcase these products. 

The visit to Motorpoint took me to the Lodge, to retrieve the Blackberry, no longer of use to CBS, as it was already redundant, replaced automatically by BT with another phone last spring. I find it amazing that equipment gets automatically upgraded, even when it's working well. Redundancy is an accepted accountancy policy. Equipment is devalued over just three years, when its working life could be three times that or longer. It's very wasteful, something I've long disapproved of and resisted. I've been given the Blackberry, because it will last a good while longer. As its connectivity is so good when I'm abroad I plan to get a PAYG SIM account with a euro account to use with it when I'm next away.

   

Thoughts on MInistry Sunday

Another early start this morning, as I was asked to cover the 8.00am Eucharist at St Catherine's, another traditional Book of Common Prayer start to the day, only this time the 1984 Church in Wales revision, another liturgy I know off by heart. Clare came too, so we there walked together in the pre-dawn twilight. By the time I reached the altar for the Offertory, the sun had risen enough to shine in through the churchyard trees, and light up the brickwork in the north west corner of the church. Lovely. There were seven of us for the service. I read Archbishop Barry's Ministry Sunday letter, his last before he retires in February, commending the new Ministry Area strategy for the Church in Wales and all this will mean for the vocations of both lay and ordained people as it develops. 

With fewer than ever clergy doing more of the same, in a world where more and more technical management skills and experience are required on top of pastoral and spiritual gifts, it's difficult to see at this stage exactly how responsibility for the whole life and mission of the church is going to be shared between laity and clergy in ways that are not already happening. Maybe at this stage it's a matter of muddling through, adjusting, making better efforts to communicate better and build effective personal relationships, not just trusting that every stakeholder lay person or cleric is happy to be organised and work in a way that's different from that is habitual to them. 

In my experience a community will rally around and grow through tackling a cause or project which everyone recognises as a key issue around which to rally and muster resources. Adapting buildings to cater for changing need is one thing, restoring beloved places of worship in crisis is another, reaching out to identifiable needy groups of people is another, social and natural environmental concern is yet another. What's more difficult, when it comes to working together in genuine missionary enterprise, isn't practical responses to material need, but the spiritual dimensions of life.

Without a vision the people perish (Prov 29:18), immediately comes to mind. Every changing scene of life, every new experience, Christians are challenged yet again to return to Scripture and Tradition, and seek new understanding about how the life of faith engages afresh with reality, not just as individuals but as a community sharing thoughts and insights about the meaning of life and our relationship with God as a fresh stimulus to creative imagination.

The appeal of Christian faith to heart, mind and will has been profoundly weakened by ideologies emerging from secular materialistic thought, so that now Christian faith is dismissed as unworthy of consideration by perhaps a majority of people, who, if they have any religious or spiritual inclinations at all, prefer the DIY approach and make it up as they go along, their individualism unchallenged. Populism, be it religious, social or political may be a kind of reaction against that, but a disciplined challenge to the truth and validity of either from Christian thinking has very limited impact. Believers have a great deal to learn from the failure of the church to commend its faith to a greater audience, and a need to re-engage differently in persuasive argument for the adoption of Christian life and faith.  

Those who take the lead in matters of ministry teach and remind the church of its calling and purpose, but they are also learners, who need enable others to think for themselves, imagine and share their ideas and insights. That means taking time to listen, for them, for the whole community. Whatever practical preparation we make for anything we do is only as good as the quality of preparation we put into it, together. And that's so hard when we're so busy with so much to be done. In retirement I now look back and think about things I could have spent more time on and done better. Now I have spare time, wondering what to do with it is what exercises me most, for now.

Thankfully, after several hours of battery charging, the car started without difficulty. Why it discharged when it's not that old, is another issue to keep an eye on. Anyway, I got to St German's nice and early and enjoyed chatting with people arriving for the service. Churchwarden Peter read out Archbishop Barry's Ministry letter, and I preached about it. To my mind, St German's is a church community that is ready to face a changing future in a ministry area, as they have learned to work hard together to sustain its community facing activities, as well as buildings and worship for several years, this has continued throughout its extended period of life without a regular parish priest. I hope a new priest will be able to recognise this and build upon it, whenever one is appointed, and hopefully sooner, if a new ministry area in the 'southern arc' of Cardiff's parishes is to be realised.

After lunch, Clare went off to her final concert rehearsal, and I followed her to the Fountain Steiner School in Llandaff North a couple of hours later for the later afternoon performance. The school hall was full of families, and the choir was drawn from teachers, parents nd friends of the school. They'd spent the term rehearsing a selection of pieces from Benjamin Britten's 'Ceremony of Carols', quite a tough challenging work to develop from scratch in over three months, but I know how much Clare has enjoyed it, and is now enjoying singing lessons, taken to improve her vocal technique. I wouldn't mind joining the choir, except that it means on Tuesdays, clashing with Chi Gung, and I'm looking forward to re-starting that in the New Year.

I took my Sony HX50 with me, perched on a high window sill, pressed the video record button and left it to its own devices during the Britten, reckoning this might produce a helpful piece of feedback for the conductor to consider later. I was delighted with the result, as the sound is really quite good as well as the video footage. There was a man sitting in front of me who also had a camera and took a few stills. It turned out that inside his smart leather camera case was an identical HX50!

After supper we relaxed together, watching the movie 'Paddington', for the first time, laughing aloud at its mild satirization of British bourgeois life, while at the same time it packs a hard hitting message about the inclusiveness, diversity and welcoming foreign migrants deemed by the author and producer of the film to be characteristic of the British way of life. Nothing could be more timely. It could do with being shown on one channel or another every night at the moment, just to spite the tabloid media. 

This was followed by the penultimate episode of 'Gwyll', which rather shifted gear half way through, going from being slowly paced with a hint of menace, to chain of incidents in which our heroes start to join the dots and make an intelligible picture of the toxic affair of the children's home which has been the cause of so many tragic lives lost, throughout all three sets of episodes of this memorable Celtic noir movie series. I'm left wondering if the producers planned them all in advance, given the difficulties in funding attached to projects of this nature, or whether it evolved following the big international success of the first series. It's been a great credit to the Welsh language creative industry, and S4C. One can only hope we'll see new ventures in future.

    

Sunday reunions

I was up before the alarm went off this morning, set to ensure I'd get to St Catherine's in good time to celebrate the eight o' clock. There were eight of us present, Clare included. I was was joined at the altar by Sam, one of two students on parish placement in Canton for two years of his training in the new St Padarn's Institute, which amalgamates existing ministry training centres of the Church in Wales in a comprehensive organisation aiming to meet the needs of a variety of students with different background experience and ages. He's just started ministry after two formative years as a member of a community under a Benedictine inspired rule living the Parish of Abergavenny, one positive innovation to occur in the Welsh church in recent years.

One the way back afterwards we bought breakfast croissants in the Coop, which I notice has gone through another re-branding re-imaging exercise since I've been away. I wonder what that cost them I why it was thought necessary to revert to something nearer to what used to be the recognisable brand identity?

We ate together in a leisurely way afterwards, before I had to set off to celebrate the St German's Solemn Mass. It was a delight to be welcomed back and step back into a familiar pattern of ritual and worship with a congregation I know well. I love the sense of praying with the people there. So often as a locum priest still getting to know the ways of different congregations, I feel like I'm taking a service for them and it's not quite the same. It's the difference between dancing with a familiar partner and having to learn to dance with someone new. No matter how skilled you may be at adapting, that special sense of spiritual intimacy only grows with familiarity.

Afterwards, I left immediately, to drive straight out of town to the Country House Hotel, Thornhill, to join a lunch party arranged by the Friends of St John's. It was a lovely occasion, re-united with many old friends from my time as Vicar of Cardiff's City Parish Church. Earlier this week I was looking at photos of church outings and glimpsed people who would no longer be at the lunch as they've died over the years since. All those people with whom I shared those amazing years in my final incumbency, I still feel close to, living and departed.

We left for home just after four. The sun was low in the sky and although Cardiff was in shadow and about to be illuminated by street lights, the Severn Estuary was still aglow and silvery with sunshine. It is such a special place to see the entirety of the Cardiff's coastal plain. After supper, we watched the fourth episode of 'Y Gwyll' on S4C. Another finely crafted piece of film drama, it didn't disappoint.