User friendliness a forgotten dream

Despite a good eight and a half hour's sleep, I woke up feeling tired and felt tired for much of the day. I've no idea why. With more work to do on Carole's funeral and people to contact, it was hard going. I went to the Eucharist at St John's, which Emma celebrated. She brought her two infants with her. One slept and the other played with his toy car around the altar, not too noisily. I don't think anyone minded, but it was a challenge for Emma. She didn't think to ask me to cover, as she thought I was still away. The congregation was pleased to see her again and catch up with her, now she's seconded to Fairwater until an appointment is made. This may be further delayed now that Francis is on bereavement leave. As Ministry Area Leader Frances needs to be involved in the new appointment. 

This is an unexpected testing time for the resilience of the Ministry Area set-up before it comes into force legally next January. I think there is a significant measure of resilience in the seven constituent congregations due to their long histories at the heart of their local communities. Will this cope with identity loss, grouping together in a larger entity without precedent or preexisting social cohesion? I'm unconvinced it will do anything to forestall further decline. 

Our neighbour Liz moves house tomorrow after living forty years in the house next door, ten years before we arrived. She's moving to a retirement apartment to be closer to family in the Cotswolds, so she came for a farewell lunch today. I wonder who'll be the next occupants, and how much makeover work will be undertaken before they move in, and how long we'll have builders' noise and skips taking up parking space in the street. Houses change hands at the rate of around three a year nowadays in a street of twenty eight houses. House prices have soared and the interest in our area by first and second time buyers has increased so the rate of 'churn' in home ownership is likely to increase further.

I went into town after lunch and bought the pocket digital dictating device I ordered last week, and picked up the pair of shoe insoles ordered from the Ecco shoe shop. I hope they work better than all the other kinds I have tried. They're certainly better quality and much more expensive.

My sister June has had several days of connectivity grief with her landline and broadband playing up leaving her frustratingly isolated. Engineers from BT and Open Reach have been two days running. I hope the problem is sorted now. There's been such a lot of rain in the area where she lives it has led to a flood of line fault reports, whether due to infrastructure inundation or connections into properties compromised by the weather. It's very distressing for her as she doesn't understand the error messages which her computer and phone throw up, and doesn't know what she can do about it when things that are fairly reliable cease to be reliable. 

It just doesn't feel right that so many people are now heavily dependent on technologies the hardly understand or adequately control, because government and business presume a level of technical literacy many older people will never acquire. I have thirty five years of experience behind me, and have got to the stage where I am less than interested in the learning detail of how new tech works. I just want things that just work in delivering what they promise  to provide in the simplest and easiest way they can be designed to function. Is that asking too much? The new digital voice recorder I bought today took me half an hour to figure out how to work. The instructions were printed so small they were difficult to read and make sense of, and working things out by trial and error, just by handing the device, was impossible without the near illegible instructions - well, near illegible for anyone with poor close vision eyesight.

T.here was a huge head of celery in this week's veggy bag, and Clare used much of it to make celery soup for supper. Just celery in the pressure cooker with a little veggy stock powder, no need for thickener when it surrendered to the blender. It's quite a strong flavour, but with a small amount of Miso added, it's quite an interesting flavour. We slumped in front of the telly and watched a slow moving episode of 'Vera' which I hadn't seen before.

No lessons learned, history repeats itself

Still no appointment letter from the hospital in the post Monday morning. That's twelve days waiting. So, I rang the surgeon's secretary to enquire. I was disturbed to discover that she didn't have access to Mrs Cornish's surgical appointments diary. She didn't apologise for not acknowledging my message of Friday afternoon last. She told me that Ms Cornish is on study leave this week, and in my opinion this may mean the next appointment lists have not yet been prepared, but who knows? 

She wasn't very forthcoming in response to my concerns but did say that there is now a 36 week waiting list for minor surgery. This disturbed me even further. She promised to email Ms Cornish and enquire on my behalf, as I am so concerned to know when I will be seen. Knowing if I am going to be available for duty or not is a matter of urgency. She said the pre-op assessment handled scheduling and that I could call them, which I did. Their auto-response device intended to deal with waiting list enquiries wasn't working and disconnected me. I was so infuriated by this I decided to re'activate my complaint procedure with the Local Health Board, and wrote an email describing what happened. It's a repeat performance of what happened last June-July.

Today I was called by a hospital trouble shooter and told officially about the 36 week waiting list, but not whether this was from when Mrs Cornish saw me or from the pre-op assessment appointment. I was offered no information about where I might be in that 36 week queue, only that I would receive six weeks notice of such an appointment. It seems that my final operation is regarded now as 'routine' and 'non-urgent', despite reassurances that it would be dealt with sooner or later because of the tissue over-granulation problem I experience. No explanation offered for the reasons behind this. I said that such a lack of definite information was outrageous and unacceptable and that I would be escalating this complaint.

I then set about writing to the Welsh Assembly's First Minister, to whom I wrote back in July to tell him of this repeat performance. Delays are evidently due to lack of resources and that's common knowledge, but it doesn't provide an excuse for keeping patients in the dark about the practical details of their treatment plan. That is just bad management, and needs to be addressed. I walked down to Mark's constituency office and posted the letter through the door, in the hope that ti will be picked up and read tomorrow.

I feel as if I am in limbo at the moment, not knowing where I stand, unable to confirm commitments I want to make until I know when I will be dealt with.

This morning, Laura, one of the Euro-diocesan safeguarding administrators rang to tell me about the need to make a digital CRB check application. After racking my brains, I vaguely remember doing this for the diocese five years ago when the new system was in its infancy. But I still need to prove who I am with supporting documents, posted or emailed to HQ.

This afternoon I popped in to see Emma and Nick and their wee bairns, and got Emma to countersign my old and new passport copies and a copy of a pension document with my address and NHS number on it, all required to support a digital CRB check application. Then I did the on-line application, and sent digitized copies of my proof of i/d to Laura. One more job done. Just in case there's any CRB confusion due to my recent change of passport, I emailed her and the Church in Wales safeguarding office a certified copy of my new passport, as queries will go back to these offices rather than me, as they are the agencies requesting checks. I wonder when the Church in Wales will switch to the same system as the CofE has had for five years already. It seems we're always a bit behind the times.

New car arrives home

Mid-morning yesterday I had to visit the GP surgery to have some blood taken to test for infections. It's never an easy experience, as even the most skilful phlebotomist can spot my veins, but has trouble getting into them. It general takes two or three goes and leaves me feeling like a pin cushion.

Then, at lunchtime I went again over to Splott on the 61 bus to pay for and collect the car. With the MOT certificate done, having insured it last night, there remained only the tax to be paid. It was not possible to do this on-line as the paper documentation of change of ownership had only just been signed, but it was possible, thanks to a bar code attached to the registration document to visit the Post Office in Splott Road, and pay for it there, knowing this would immediately be registered if I should get stopped on my way home. 

After a brief introduction to the car's layout from Phil, I took to the road and drove across town. It's the first time I've driven for seven weeks in any country, so I needed to go carefully. I wasn't pleased that the space outside our house was still occupied by a car that occupied space carelessly, so that another smaller car could squeeze in behind it, which could have been possible if this car had parked closer to the one in front of it. This often happens in our street: un-mindful parking. So I had to park a little further down, so I can't look out of the window and admire it. Here it is!

Today I had an early appointment with my regular GP Dr Jordan, and basically we reviewed all that had happened in recent weeks, and my treatment. Where we proceed from here depends on success in dealing with the abscess. My blood test result had already been logged on the practice network. Very speedy! I'll have another one next week to see if the remaining traces of infection are eliminated by the penicillin I'm currently taking. It seems that apart from this my vital signs are normally healthy, which is good news. And so on it goes, getting fully fit for purpose again.

Today is the 49th anniversary of my ordination to the Diaconate and the start of my full time public ministry. so went to the usual Thursday Eucharist at St John's to give thanks. How blessed I felt, to be one of a dozen congregation members, on the receiving end for a change, and to feel I'm back home in the Parish I call home. Afterwards, I had a chat with Emma our new priest. She expresses her delight at being in Canton enjoying the people of the three churches, and settling into a lively community and making a new home here. I'm so pleased for her and her family. On my way back, I bought one of those foam doughnut shaped rings to sit on. It'll protect my healing wound from excess pressure, and make life less uncomfortable when sitting. This really makes me feel my age!

I cooked lunch for us, then later we went out food shopping together. Clare's been laid low with a virus this past few days, so it was her first proper outing since Monday. We had nothing better to do than watch different TV programmes in the evening, me live streaming an episode of 'Vera' with an app on my tablet, something that wouldn't have been possible in this household three years ago. How times have changed!

  

A day at the keyboard

Yesterday apart from a quick visit to the Super Sol for groceries, I spent all day in the apartment, but not because of poor weather. First, in the morning, I had an email from Amanda saying that she had decided to learn photography, and had bought a Sony HX400, the same as the one Rhiannon had for her birthday, which I'd recommended for its versatility. My response to her took ages to write as I thought I could give her some useful advice about getting started, and encourage her to take on the challenge . Her physical disability may impose some limitations, requiring work-around solutions for getting the kind of photos she wants, but the lovely thing about Amanda is that she will certainly have a go. It'll be good for us as well as for her. I hear that Rhiannon loves her new camera and has been using it too, and I look forward to seeing what she produces too.

In the mail last week was a letter from Bishop June inviting me to participate in a consultation about the future mission and ministry of the diocese of Llandaff. Former St Mike's staff member Stephen Adams, now Rector of Cowbridge, is running the process, so after Clare read it out to me over the phone, I emailed Stephen and asked him to send me the documents to work on here. These arrived next day, and after lunch I started working on them. It took me the best part of six hours, as indeed it should as the subject and Bishop June's questions were interesting. I daresay there'll be scores of respondents, people more active in everyday church and parish life back home than I am, but I'd like to think that have plenty of time to think things through and present a few suggestions might be worth the effort.

This morning, I made sure to get out early and take a walk uphill before doing a circuit of the Old Town and the port. I only went half way up the Gibralfaro path, but my main aim was to get a good view of the the port. There'd been turnover of big cruise ships since the weekend, but also a visit from Club Med 2, which is a large mass cruise ship with six sail masts as well as a conventional engine, to help reduce its carbon footprint. I remember seeing this in port last year. Alongside it on a quay next to the Melilla ferry was a large three masted barque, the Maltese registered Sea Cloud II, with accommodation for 96 passengers and 63 crew, German built at the turn of this century. The third sailing vessel Ann Bonny Uno, has been in port for a couple of weeks. Unusual to see three big sail ships along the same quay together.

Disturbing church times

I walked to St St John's in the drizzle this morning to celebrate the eight o'clock Eucharist, rather than walk first to retrieve the car, parked in Greenfield Avenue where I'd been obliged to leave it overnight. On the journey, I collected a eleven pieces of litter, mostly cans and bottles, many of them discarded in the past couple of days. 

Meadow street was unusually full of cars over the weekend, with little movement in or out. This may have been a product of bad weather, and people watching the rugby internationals on TV at home rather than driving to a favourite pub. There was just one space free when I returned by car from St Germans some six hours later, after celebrating the Solemn Mass, followed by a baptism. By ten o'clock Monday morning eighty percent of the cars will have gone. Many working people live in our street and commute to work by car.

News that the episcopal election candidate Jeffrey John has not been included in the short-list drawn up for interview by the Bench of Bishops charged with making the appointment. He was two votes short of the necessary two thirds majority in the Electoral College vote, and the unanimous choice of Llandaff electors. I find this most disturbing. He seems to be feared by the Bishops as a potentially controversial candidate. He started ministry as a Llandaff ordinand, and the work he has done over the years marks him as an outstanding candidate. The fact that he is a celibate gay man in a committed stable civil partnership doesn't seem to have been a stumbling block for local electors, even though it seems to have been the reason for him being forced to withdraw from an appointment as Bishop of Reading, and passed over for Bishop of Southwark. 

The concern that he may not be acceptable as a bishop to a minority of traditionalist church leaders and faithful in Wales is one that can only be dispelled by making an appointment that challenges the reality behind the fear. In the past, traditionalist bishops outside of the UK have strongly objected to other gay appointments, and their threats to split the Anglican Communion over this issue, have been the cause of prolonged efforts at avoiding schism through dialogue. There is no formal schism so far, but many traditionalists continue loudly to denounce others who think differently from themselves, effectively admitting that living with differences of conviction is not their priority.

Jeffery is an outspoken liberal, and I wonder if he is quietly regarded by as being not 'orthodox' enough to be a mainstream bishop, as he's at risk of attracting allegations of heresy. It seems likely to me his views are no more un-traditional than positions held by many episcopal leaders, but it depends on who notices views expressed, whether in praise or condemnation. I wonder if fear of adding to polarisation between traditionalist and liberal tendencies is intoxicating the decision making of the Bench of Bishops at this time? How should the clergy and laity of the diocese respond if they think they have been disregarded? How can charitable behaviour prevail when the world, if not church members are sensing conflict in the air?
      

Waiting for news

I had a funeral yesterday morning at Thornhill crematorium to start this half term week the first of three. A retired steelworker in his mid sixties born and bred in Splott. The chapel was full to overflowing, with about 350 people, former colleagues and friends from the community in which he grew up. I gave an obituary on behalf of the family, and his two children also spoke movingly. When I got home I had a call about another funeral for two weeks hence. So it goes on. A funeral director said to me "I don't know how we'd manage without the help of you retired clergy." I don't know how the reduced number of full time clergy also manage at busy times like this. 

Today the diocesan electoral college meets in Llandaff Cathedral to elect a new Bishop. I hope that whoever is chosen is aware pastorally of the great strain funeral ministry places on clergy, and how this can dominate their work and missionary priorities. I believe it's still an important service to offer to the wider non-churchgoing public, part of knowing and being known, maintaining bonds of affection between church and local community. The fact that many non-churchgoing people still request a funeral in church, and that the building figures in different ways in family histories is important. Lay people are involved in welcoming and preparing for services but we need more of them trained and authorised as officiating ministers, as there aren't enough Readers and NSM clergy available. Will it ever happen I wonder? 

At lunchtime, I had my second funeral, this time in St John's, of a woman in her early sixties, and the church was full. Afterwards at the crematorium, the chapel was half full, half the numbers of yesterday, but that's still a lot of people. The family didn't want hymns, but selected some pieces of soul music and reggae to play. Each track was carefully recorded on a separate labelled CD, but none of the would play, as the tracks, presumably MP3s or WAVs were recorded to disc in data not CD format. I had warned them to be careful about this, but maybe I hadn't been understood. Thankfully, their nervousness about getting it right meant that one family member turned up with a laptop and extension speakers, and another with the same tracks on a phone, plus a Bluetooth Boombox. The latter was tried first, but it kept disconnecting and reconnecting with a robotic voice informing the world of its status. The same as happened at a funeral a couple of weeks ago in St Catherine's.

The congregation seemed quite relaxed about it, and thankfully the guy with the laptop quickly stepped in and stopped the whole occasion developing into a farce. I announced and commented briefly on each track, wondering if I sounded like a Radio 2 deejay doing a prayer sandwich. It all worked out in the end, and I found myself walking, first out of church and later out of the crem chapel, swaying gently to the reggae beat. It's actually easier to do that than walk against the catchy rhythm. It reminded me of being back in St Paul's half a lifetime ago. Several people noticed and commented with a smile. I was already remembering church processions in Jamaica and in black Pentecostal churches back here in UK where this was just the way it happened naturally. Ah happy days!

At the end of services which are painfully difficult, due to a perceived untimely death, I can feel some satisfaction abut my role, if I see people visibly relaxing and smiling as they walk out, even if they have tears in their eyes at the same time. It's an important moment of closure, a chance to draw breath before grief returns with a stinging sense of absence, and the loneliness often associated with it. Yet again I was glad that I had little else to do for the rest of the day, apart from go food shopping with Clare. And wonder how the electoral college was getting on. 

When I learned, late afternoon that there was no election news today, I thought about ringing my old friend Martin, to discuss the possible candidates but before I could, he rang me and said what I'd meant to send him in a text message - No white smoke today.

  

Congregational choreography

Up at first light, to be sure of getting out of the house to walk to St Nicholas' Kenilworth for the eight o'clock Communion service for the feast of Candlemas, which is being observed in the CofE today. It's next week in the Church in Wales calendar. Interestingly the 'Sunday Worship' smartphone app gives Candlemas readings as an alternative for this week and next, as the fortieth day of Christmastide is this Thursday, so it can be observed in anticipation or retrospectively. It keeps us on our toes, I guess.

The Reverend Stella, a confident and outgoing priest, seemed a little tentative about keeping two dozen eight o'clockers on their toes, when at the start of the service she asked communicants to approach the rail and fill it from left to right, instead of the other way round. Exit from the high altar through a side chapel is to the right, and this simple logical measure could possibly serve to decongest the area before the sanctuary, so long as people standing in the choir stayed put until there was a pause in the flow from the rail. 

Habits formed over decades of routine worship are not easy to change. Success depends on people's ability to hear and obey one week, remember the next, and so on. It presupposes a degree of awareness of others which is going to vary depending on who's in the congregation, and who follows whom up to the rail. Having a steward place to direct worshippers may or may not be helpful, depending on their experience and tactfulness. Giving choreographic directions to a congregation isn't easy at the best of times. I sympathised with the Vicar's nervousness, something I recall well when trying to do something differently during my life in charge of a Parish. 

The change seemed to work as proposed. Perhaps there'd been a survey or a discussion leading to this? It's such a small thing, but an early, said service in an English Parish church is a model of respect and good manners. Participants, whether they are complete strangers or have known each other at church for a lifetime, give each other space and silence to be completely inward, engaged with the liturgy as much or as little as they desire. The peace is exchanged, as it has been for some years at St Nicholas', done briefly with warmth, courtesy and few words. I wish it were the same at every church service.

I enjoy the early morning walk to church here as the sun rises. The Reverend Stella preaches a modest length, well prepared sermon. Early birds don't get Liturgy Lite. Talking of which, on my way up the avenue of lime trees to the church, I saw several thrushes on the ground, plus a pair of blackbirds, one with a worm in its beak just tugged out of the ground. I haven't seen that since family camping days.

The house was quiet for a good hour or more after I returned, before the family awoke and came down for breakfast, well brunch. Then it was time for me to head back to Wales, as early afternoon they were going to Coventry to meet a student film crew, making a music video to accompany one of the songs on Sonrisa's forthcoming album, being crafted by Anto and the band in the attic sound studio above their house. It rained all the way back to Cardiff, but the roads weren't crowded.

Looking at news and photos on Facebook later, I was reminded that this afternoon was Archbishop Barry's farewell at Llandaff Cathedral. The place was packed with clergy and representatives from all over the diocese. Even if I'd been able to get home in time, I doubt if there'd have been a free space for me, and I wasn't aware in advance of how I might get one. Some time ago I decided to settle for sending him a personal letter of appreciation and farewell. He'll certainly remain in my prayers as he makes the transition from being a very public servant of the church to private citizen who happens to be a retired priest. May God bless and prosper him in his new way of life.

        

An overview on contemporary Islam

Unusually for a Monday, I was out of the house just after nine fifteen, walking down to St John's Canton to join the diocesan Continuing Ministerial Education programme day session with the theme 'Understanding Islam and Muslims in Britain'. Sociologists Richard McCallum for the Oxford Centre for Muslim-Christian studies and Dilwar Hussein of New Horizons provided input and discussion ideas. Dilwar's comprehensive introduction to Islam, mapping out the diverse world of Muslim belief and identities was rich and insightful, perhaps because it didn't get bogged down in the minutiae of theological dissent, but considered everything from a sociological perspective. The broader view prods me to make time to resume and complete reading Hans Kung's huge tome on Islam, which I've had for several years.

I left before the final discussion session, to get a bus into town and complete a job at the CBS office. I felt I didn't have much to contribute. These days I'm a little distant from the front-line pastoral context in which local parish clergy operate. Working so much in Spain over the past few years, where the history and context of Christian-Muslim relations is somewhat different, means I haven't much to reflect upon that would be relevant to a brief conversation between clergy mostly interested in addressing immediate presenting problems. Nevertheless, the insights on British Islam today and the careful adoption and adaptation by some scholars of interpretative approaches to sacred scripture influenced by twentieth century western approaches to philosophy, theology and literature made it an encouraging and worthwhile occasion.

That's probably only the second CME day I've attended since I retired. There were about fifty people there, two thirds of the current working clergy complement in the diocese. I didn't notice anyone else there who was retired, but as it was only ten minutes walk form home, it was very easy for me to turn up. What really struck me was the diminishing proportion of people whose faces I could put a name to. Now I know fewer of the younger generation, except the half a dozen St Mike's alumni acquainted with by working at the College or on student placements in my last parish. It's funny to feel a stranger in a familiar place.  It's a price to be paid for having moved around so much over the past fifty years, I guess.