Catching up

Another of my readers pointed out that my web-clock was an hour slow!
I wondered how long it might take for someone to notice.
Actually... to be honest, I just couldn't be bothered correcting it. But now that it has been pointed out, I have made the necessary changes. Hopefully now it is showing the correct time.

Long pointy beard

One of our younger readers made the observation that the orchid pictured in the previous post looks "like a man with a long pointy beard!" I'm sure she must have been referring to the above Yosemite Sam from the Looney Tunes cartoons.
However, you may have some alternative suggestions as to the resemblance.
I'd like to hear about them. Just don't tell me that it looks like ME!

The princesses of the palace

Well, I shook the dust off my camera case and, at long last, gave my camera an outing. We headed into the city (Glasgow) to the Kibble Palace (part of the Botanic Gardens) for an "orchid fair" that was taking place there over the weekend. The Kibble Palace itself is always worth a visit, especially after its recent restoration.
It took me back more than a few years because when I was a student in Glasgow I often used to go there to eat my lunch.
However, on this occasion, the main focus of attention was the Orchid Fair that was taking place - an opportunity for orchid growers from all around the country to display their prize specimens.
There were two things that I really enjoyed about the exhibition- the first (perhaps rather obviously) was the collection of orchids themselves, in all their incredible variety; the second was the enthusiasm of the growers as they spoke to visitors about their plants and how they looked after them.
I almost always respond to enthusiasm. I know that some people who have particular interests and passions can sometimes be a real bore but most of the time the enthusiasm of people is infectious, especially when such people are not trying to show off their superior knowledge but are simply expressing their own love for whatever has grabbed their interest.
When it comes to people trying to share their faith you get both types. Sadly there are more than a few who could bore the pants off anybody when they start talking about what they believe- some can even be quite offensive and a real turn-off- but people with a genuine passion for their beliefs who are not trying to belittle others or bully them into sharing their beliefs can often discover that their enthusiasm is infectious too.
Anyway, enough of that and back to the orchids.
They come in such an astonishing variety of colours and shapes that I was mightily relieved that digital photography had been invented- otherwise I would have shot off four rolls of film in half an hour and not been able to afford the cost of developing the prints. 120 digital photographs however costs nothing to look at one the computer screen.
Of course, I have absolutely no idea what variety any of the particular orchids were, including the one pictured above, but I just marvelled at their beauty and thought to myself - no wonder people get enthusiastic about them!
All the same, I am not about to take up orchid growing myself. I know my limitations!

Hot under the collar

Those who know me will be aware that I am not someone who likes to get dressed up in clerical attire. Personally, I think that "dog collars" suit dogs better than people (although dogs may think differently.) The one situation where wearing the "dog collar" sometimes comes in useful is in hospital visiting. It can act as a passport to visiting someone outside of normal visiting times. However, yesterday I did visit someone in hospital, outside of visiting hours, wearing a perfectly ordinary shirt and tie (even though I have to admit that the tie is almost as absurd and useless as a dog collar.) I simply explained that I was the patient's minister and my explanation was readily accepted. (Maybe that means I look like a minister??)
The only other times I tend to wear a clerical collar are when conducting funerals or weddings (in the case of the latter it goes well with my kilt.)
My reasons for not going in much for clerical attire have nothing at all to do with fashion. (Again, anyone who knows me will realise that I know next to nothing about what is fashionable.)
It is simply that I believe in a relational, rather than a formal, style of ministry, so it is important to have as few barriers as possible between me and other people. I think God works best through our own individual personalities which, after all, are his gift to us, rather than through any kind of 'uniform' that suppresses who we are and gives us a formal status.
I realise of course that many people (including no doubt a number of my own congregation) will see things quite differently.
I respect their views.
After writing the above and while "googling" the net for a suitable picture to go with it, I came across this blog post which raises similar issues but much more eloquently. I have to say, however, that unlike Elizabeth MacFarlane I have rarely if ever suffered any kind of abuse while wearing the collar: I just think it gets in the way of real conversations.
Still on the subject of clerical attire, I am grateful to Steve Tilley for pointing me to this video that gave me such a laugh.

Quiet strength

The image above from Japan shows a famous cherry tree whose roots have split a massive granite rock in two.

Had a busy but enjoyable day yesterday preaching in my own church in the morning and in the local baptist Church in the evening.
In my morning sermon I quoted a song/hymn I had written some years ago but had forgotten all about- a reminder that there are different kinds of strength, other than brute force.

O Lord, in your weakness you were strong
As you stood on trial for love.
You wouldn't give in to fear or anger;
your heart would only forgive.

At the mocking of kings and jeering of soldiers,
your dignity was abused;
yet love was the answer you silently gave:
Let it be Your way that we choose.

O Lord in your silence you spoke boldly;
the world had nothing to say.
A whole new Creation, from your dying,
came into being that day.

While the scoffers and cynics
still have their moments,
and faithful ones are confused,
your love is the answer you silently give:
Let it be your way that we choose.
(c) Iain D. Cunningham

Reflection

I'm a bit short on inspiration these days. Just too many things that have to be done by strict deadlines. However, someone in my congregation just passed on to me last night a meditation/reflection that she wrote, although what she actually said was: "I held the pen."
If you are feeling a bit fragile, fearful or unsure of the future, think of this as God's message to you today.

The photo is of one of the beautiful beaches on Islay

I have no eyes to see what you hold in your heart,
you cannot feel me until you let go of your fear,
you will never come to harm so long as you have me.
Take my hand and feel my love,
embrace the gift I have given you,
feel the light in your heart
and know that I am always with you giving you strength.
Take time and I will give you joy.
Through me you will know yourself,
you cannot help but know me,
I am with you all of your life,
and beyond.
You know me just as I know you,
we are one.
Be still,
be quiet and I will come to you when you are ready.
Take time to hear my voice.
You will recognise me as you would yourself.
Through me you will know love as you never have before.
Take it!
There is always more.
You will never be shut off from me.
There is always more.
Bring yourself closer to me,
feel my presence with you.
This is home.

(c) Joan Hazelwood

Who knows what goes on inside her pretty little head?

I've spoken before about our cat, Tess. She can be a strange creature sometimes - one minute very affectionate, the next fairly ferocious.
When I am working at my desk she has a habit of jumping up onto the desk and walking all over the computer keyboard (which makes for some interesting new words) before settling down usually on the pile of papers that I am working on, or else she will try to curl up on my knee which is equally distracting.
This morning she did her usual and, as often happens, her attention was drawn to the movement of the cursor on the screen. Since I wasn't going to be working with the computer at the time I decided to do something to keep her 'out of my hair' or at least off my knee. I put a DVD into the pc drive. Now, I've noticed already that Tess likes watching wildlife programmes on the telly, especially if it involves elephants, or members of the cat family. Well, this was a documentary on Mountain Lions.
It worked!
She was transfixed! She sat on the desk totally absorbed by the pictures on the screen. I'm not sure how much of the commentary she understood but I think she fancied herself prowling among the mountain regions of South America. She was definitely star-struck!
I think she could turn into a real desk potato if I let her...

[remember to click on the photo to see it full size]

Going nuts

As the above ad says "It doesn't take a sledgehammer to crack a nut" but that doesn't stop some people trying it. When I was young I don't remember us ever having a nut-cracker in the house. We did use a hammer (albeit a relatively small one) to crack open hazelnuts and walnuts. Hazelnuts usually did all right and most of the time you could recover them whole, or at worst - in two pieces. Walnuts, on the other hand, often ended up mashed, or as we used to say "in smithereens." Often you had to pick out little fragments from the broken shell which also sometimes meant you accidentally crunched into a little piece of broken shell at the eating stage of the process. Painful.
I was remembering all of this the other day at a meeting when it was made clear to us that new regulations governing charities which come into force on the 1st April (of course) now require churches to quote their charity number on near-enough every piece of paper they produce. Apparently even our weekly Order of Service bulletin has to carry the number. And every email too.
We have to blame Oscar for all of this heavy-handedness. No, not Oscar Wilde, nor Oscar Madison from the Odd Couple but OSCR - Office of the Scottish Charity Regulator.
Actually, it all stems from the actions of a charity in Scotland a few years ago that turned out to be a pretty bogus (or at best incompetently run) affair and all the regulations governing charities had to be severely tightened up. In principle, I agree with this, but sometimes you can go over the top.
It reminds me of what occasionally used to happen in school (and maybe still does) when someone in the class does something wrong but won't own up to it, so the whole class has to take the punishment.
Of course, as a law-abiding citizen, working in a church that respects civil law, we will comply in all respects. Promise!
I'll need to check, though, if there is any stipulation made about the size of the text that you must use to display your charity number. Would 2pt Arial do, I wonder?
One other consquence of the charities shake-up is that our church accounts now run to about 26 pages. A lot of fun for our church treasurer tomorrow as he tries to guide the congregation through the new style of accounts at our Annual Stated Meeting after the service.

He is risen indeed!

A HAPPY EASTER to you all!

There are some stories that I never get tired of hearing and whose novelty for me never wears off. Perhaps the greatest of these is the Easter story.
Part of the endless fascination for me of the "Easter" events described in such different terms by each of the gospel writers is the sheer mystery of it all. Not even the gospel writers themselves could really say exactly what happened, because no one witnessed the resurrection itself.
That doesn't bother me. On the contrary, it comforts me. It leaves room for faith as well as wonder. It is one of those mysteries which the more you know about it, the more mysterious it becomes. The deeper you plunge into it, the deeper it seems.
I guess the word is unfathomable.
But, you know, part of the reason why no one knows exactly what happened on that "third day" is that the resurrection took place "while it was still dark." The sun hadn't even come up by the time Mary and the other women got to the tomb to find the stone rolled away.
Could that in itself be somehow significant?
Of course, Jesus seems to have had a habit of getting up before daybreak to go off into some lonely place to pray but this takes 'getting up early' to a new dimension altogether!
What I like most about this seemingly insignificant detail of the Easter narrative though is that it reminds me of a truth we find all through the Bible... the light shines IN the darkness and the darkness can't put it out, and eventually the light grows to banish the darkness itself. It's the triumph of future hope over present circumstance.
And isn't that something we all need these days?

A bit of drama and passion

I've been getting a bit of stick lately from some people who I know regularly read this blog. The trouble is... they've had nothing new to read for ages.
I guess I could make all the usual excuses about being too busy etc. and that I have spent some of the time updating our church website but although both of these things are certainly true the more important reason is that recently I've just not had anything to say.
I know... I know... it's never stopped me before.
But there are times when you just kind of dry up, or at least need a little break.
Unfortunately, this is not an option when you have to prepare a fresh sermon or two each week. You just have to get down to it and work hard. But as far as the blog is concerned, I sometimes take the easy way out and just walk away from it for a while.
Someone who didn't give up, nor take the easy way out, was Jesus.
I've really enjoyed watching the first two episodes of the BBC's latest Drama "The Passion."
I hope the next two episodes continue the high standard. I'm looking forward to it coming out on DVD too. Tonight I watched episode two with my current Discipleship Group, which seemed especially appropriate.
I'm sure there will be some critics who will point out that the writers have introduced elements that are not in the Biblical gospels but that is inevitable and necessary for telling the story with any semblance of psychological realism. Preachers do it all the time... at least if they have any imagination! The gospels themselves give only the briefest of sketches and leave lots to your imagination.
What I like about this particular production is that the characters are relatively complex, not just cardboard cut-out 'goodies' and 'baddies.' You see that each person has choices to make - Jesus, Pilate, Caiaphas, Judas, Joseph of Arimathea etc.- and you can sympathise with all of them because their choices are not usually between simple good and bad, but between good and the best, or between evil and a lesser evil. You can understand how difficult some of the choices are and, what's more, identify with them.
I think Joseph Mawle does a reasonably good job of portraying Jesus, although he is maybe just a bit too low key. You wonder would anyone really give up everything to follow this man? Where is the charisma and excitement?
To be fair, though, we do enter the story at some of its most solemn moments when I suspect Jesus must have been pretty heavy-hearted.
No time for light-hearted frivolity then.
I'll have to wait and see how the trial and crucifixion and most of all the resurrection are handled before I give it my unqualified approval (not that the BBC is looking for it, of course) but so far, so good. And what a refreshing change from all that so-called "reality" nonsense... to have some real drama from the Beeb! Let's have some more.

The not-so-hot seat

Well, the snow has returned and this time decided to hang around for a day or two- or at least long enough for some blue sky to appear and set it off to perfection.
We don't get blue skies all that often in Scotland but when we do, then I, for one, really appreciate them.
For some reason, summer blue skies never seem quite so intense to me as a blue sky in winter set against the white snow, or the blue sky of springtime acting as a backdrop to pink cherry blossom, or in autumn when it is a foil to the spectacular reds, golds and browns of the trees.
I passed Braidwood Loch this morning on my way to Braidwood Primary School and fortunately I had my camera in the car with me. I couldn't resist stopping for a moment to capture this particular blue sky, and that pretty cool (snow-covered) seat. Well, I certainly wasn't going to sit on it.

Mind you, perhaps it would be less uncomfortable than 'sitting in the hot seat.'
But sometimes you just don't get to choose the seat you have to sit in and you have to make do with whatever comes your way, uncomfortable or not.
So maybe dark grey cloudy skies are more common, but that just means making the most of any glimpse of blue sky that comes your way and enjoying the moment.

...so maybe I will go over and sit on that cool seat after all...

Don't do it!

I suppose it was inevitable eventually but it still really, really annoys me...
Recently I've received a number of supposed "comments" on the blog... except they are not really comments, they are links to a so-called 'virus scanner' that proceeds to tell you how many bits of spyware etc. are on your computer and how you need to download their software to protect your computer... etc. etc.
In fact it is nothing but spyware itself. I am trying to intercept these bogus comments and delete them before any of you accidentally clicks on the links but I want to warn you anyway. If you see a comment that asks you to click "here" - please don't.
If this nuisance persists I may have to introduce comment moderation which would mean that comments don't appear until I have vetted them. I'd rather not do that but if I have to I will.
In the meantime keep the genuine comments coming. It's good to know that somebody actually reads this stuff now and again.

Crema de la crema

Regular readers will know that one of my favourite places to eat is a local restaurant here called "Prego." It has become a favourite place not just for special occasions but also at other times when we have no real excuse for eating out other than that we want to.

My original 'review' of Prego (the Lanark version) included the following phrase "For an Italian restaurant, the espresso could be a bit better" which was certainly true on that particular occasion. My espresso that night did not possess the necessary "crema" which as all coffee geeks know is an absolute essential if it is to deserve the name "espresso."

However, I don't think my comments pleased the restaurant owner much, as he takes a measure of pride in the coffee he offers. (You expect nothing less from any Italian restaurateur worth his salt.)

Last week he was in the Carluke branch of Prego and insisted on making my espresso himself and offering it to me "on the house." [I noticed that he also made a point of opening a fresh bag of coffee beans for the purpose.]

Well, I can report to you that on this occasion (as on most occasions it has to be said) the espresso was certainly worthy of the name, with a healthy and delightful crema.

I realise that those of you who make do with instant coffee probably haven't a clue what I am talking about. I would also like to point out that I am not a snob in any other realm... but when it comes to coffee I know and expect only the best. And if I can produce a crema on my espresso at home then I expect my Italian barista to do the same. Thankfully, I know that he can.

Two bright pimples

"In Chittagong he would live like a prince, but here he is just doing the donkey regarded his malnourished limb, the two bright pimples above the elbow."

What do you mean it doesn't make sense??

It's what I was reading when I was away on my short break.

I had bought a book at the airport (Brick Lane by Monica Ali) and I was pretty much enjoying the story. I had reached page 320 and what you see above is exactly what I read.
Of course, my first reaction was to read it again just to see if I had missed a word or two, or simply misunderstood some clever sentence construction... but no matter how many times I read it, it still made no sense.
And then I noticed...
... after page 320 came page 273 - a page which, in fact, I had already read the day before! Soon it dawned on me that a whole section of the book had the wrong pages in it.
It was a bit of a Groundhog Day moment when I realised that I had already read this particular section...

... and then the frustration kicked in.
I wasn't going to be able to continue reading the book.
Sure, the last few pages were there... but I didn't want to read the ending without reading how the story arrived at that place. (I am not one of those people who reads the end of the book first to see how it is all going to work out. I want the author to lead me to that point.)
I've had to wait until today to get a replacement for the defective book.
Unfortunately I don't have time to read it at the moment.
I only hope I can actually remember now what happened in the first 320 pages!

Life itself can be like this some times.
Things don't always work out the way you expect them to.
Sometimes you find yourself in a dead end.
Sometimes you discover it just doesn't make sense at all.
And often it seems as if some of the pages are missing, or the wrong pages have been put into the story.
That's when you need a little bit of patience... and a lot of faith to trust that one day the story will make sense.

Would you walk by...

One of my daughters had a very lucky escape on Sunday morning. Her car spun off the road and rolled over into a field, ending up facing in the opposite direction, although back on its wheels again. Had the skid happened a few seconds earlier who knows what might have happened. As it is, she emerged from the wreck unscathed - which is more than can be said for her car which is now a total write-off.
Amazing as her good fortune was, it is not, to me, the most astonishing thing about the incident. No, I reserve that description for a group of people who witnessed the whole episode.
You see all of this took place right next to the 18th Tee of Carluke Golf Course. A group of golfers were tee-ing off at the time my daughter's car spun out of control and did its tumble across the field towards them. They paused for a few seconds to look over...

... then promptly carried on with their game!!
Can you believe it?

Up and away

My friends' house is less than 10 miles from the Kennedy Space Centre (as the crow, or pelican, flies) but about 17 miles from the launch pad 39A.
It is still close enough to ensure that you don't have to go anywhere, except to the end of the road, to get a pretty spectacular view of a launch. Unfortunately, though, I don't have the sort of zoom lenses that the professionals use to photograph the event.
If you want the real thing visit the NASA site.
The launch of Atlantis was (I think) the fifth space shot I have witnessed. (Four shuttle launches and the 1975 launch of the Viking mission to Mars are what I have seen so far. I missed the very last Apollo launch by just two days.)
It is a still, to me, an awe-inspiring sight and I have nothing but admiration for the folk who allow themselves to be strapped into that vehicle on top of millions of tons of high explosive then fired upwards into the sky.
Mind you, I think it pretty routine to strap myself into the seat of a Boeing 747-400 aircraft weighing anything up to 870,000 lbs and allow myself to be launched above the clouds, entrusting the pilots, crew and ground-staff to deliver me safely back to earth exactly as planned. I guess most people a hundred years ago would have considered this to be pretty crazy.
How long, do you think, before we see space travel as routine?

Trying not to drop a clanger

My recent visit to Florida coincided happily with the launch of the Space Shuttle Atlantis (STS-122) - more of which another time. I have seen a Space Shuttle launch a number of times before and while it is always an exciting experience it was not (as I've said) an entirely new one to me.
However, what was new for me on this trip was the opportunity to be part of a bell-ringing ensemble. (The picture above shows my one-and-only 15 minute rehearsal for the event.)
I now have a little lapel button which proclaims a bit dubiously that I am a bell-ringer!
I had been asked to fill in for a regular member of the bell-ringing team who, unfortunately, was not able to take part that Sunday.
To my own surprise I found it a thoroughly enjoyable (if slightly nerve-wracking) experience. What I did not want to do was to muck up things for the rest of the ensemble. In spite of the fact that we were situated in the choir loft and invisible to most of the congregation I did not want to "drop a clanger" if you pardon the pun.
I did get the opportunity to have a 15 minute rehearsal/lesson which was just as well for there were three things that I discovered were essential: technique, timing, and (perhaps most important of all) teamwork.
There is a certain technique involved in making sure that your bell sounds its note clearly, only once, at the right moment in time and not for any longer (or shorter) than necessary. You have to start with the bells (one in each hand) facing upwards then in a sort of circular motion, down and up again, time it so that the clapper (clanger) strikes the bell once at the right moment, then you have to rest it against your shoulder at the right moment to dampen the sound. It's not too difficult but you do need to practise it a bit to get the knack. The most complicated bit is when you have adjacent notes to play and you have to dampen one bell at exactly the same time as you strike the other.
I was actually asked if I could play a third bell. Only having two hands that would have required me to put one down and very, very quickly pick the other up without accidentally ringing either bell. I declined.
I know my limitations!
Teamwork, as I said, is probably the most important thing because unlike any other musical instrument I have ever played no single bell-ringer can play the whole tune (unless the tune consists entirely of two notes!) but each single bell-ringer is required for the tune (and harmony) to be played at all.
Like the pianist who must co-ordinate the action of his/her ten fingers the whole group has to act as one.
It was an interesting, and educational experience; for in fact the same lessons can be applied to most group activities, and certainly to church life. Nobody can do it all, but everybody has an important part to play in the overall scheme of things.
oh... and sometimes... we do drop the odd clanger!

It's snow bad!

Sorry I've been away from the blog for the last week. I was visiting some friends who, it just so happens, live in Central Florida. Now I know what you are thinking: - why one earth would anyone want to forsake the rain and snow and frost of a Scottish February for sunny blue skies and temperatures reaching into the 80's?
I know it is inexplicable. But there you go.
When I left Edinburgh Airport last Tuesday morning it was about 7 deg Centigrade (i.e. 45 Fahrenheit.) When I arrived in Orlando just after 7pm it was 29 Centigrade (84 Fahrenheit.)
But, of course, I wasn't there for the weather... so there's no need for any of you to feel jealous.
Mind you, what I did enjoy were the sunrises. The photo above was taken at the Indian River one morning last week just after 7am.
The tranquillity of these mornings was truly therapeutic. And so too was the opportunity to catch up on long-lasting and ever meaningful friendships.
The American friends I am talking about are a retired minister and his wife, whom I have known for the last 34 years.
My friend, who is now in his 80's (years this time, not degrees!) was preaching on Sunday at the church where he had been minister for many years and which was now celebrating its 50th Anniversary. During his sermon he spoke about a number of people who had been a great influence in shaping his own life and Christian faith; people who had somehow passed on the love of God from their experience to him.
As he spoke I felt that I was part of a very long chain going right back to the command of Jesus to his disciples that they should love one another, and the following idea formed in my head:
The true apostolic succession is the passing of the love of Christ from one generation to the next.
Some journeys are definitely worth making.

Thank you for the music

From time to time we have various concerts in the Church. On Friday night we had a return visit from Stonehouse Male Voice Choir, and a thoroughly entertaining evening they gave us. An excellent performance full of good humour and good singing.
Ordinarily I think I prefer a 'choir of all the parts' but, having said that, my tastes in music are pretty eclectic, as even a quick glance at my CD collection would show.
To me music should only be divided into "good" or "bad." (Well, maybe there's a middle category of "mediocre.")
Actually in Scotland we also have the phrase "no' bad" (which believe it or not can mean any of the three, depending on the inflection in your voice and the expression on your face.)
If you say it in a downbeat way it means "it was probably alright but it didn't do anything for me, and I wouldn't want to hear it again" (which in anybody's else's book is probably a diplomatic way of saying 'pretty bad.'
If it said with a slight shrug of the shoulders it means something like "I could take it or leave it."
If it is said with a bit of enthusiasm it actually means what it says on the tin, i.e. "not bad" = "good."
All in all, it sounds like the "not proven" verdict that can be dished out in Scottish Courts which can mean anything from guilty to innocent, or somewhere in-between.
So maybe I should just have said that the Stonehouse Male Voice Choir are 'no bad' and leave you to decide for yourself which of the above applies to you; but for that you'll have to go and hear them for yourself.
You can get a wee taste from their website.

It's snow good

Earlier this afternoon we had our first proper snowfall of the year - though not much and not for long.

I know there has been some significant snow in other parts of the country but each time it seems to have by-passed Carluke, much to the annoyance of my youngest daughter.

Well, this afternoon the snow DID fall, though (as I said) it didn't hang around for very long but it loitered enough to (temporarily) make my garden almost tidy enough to look at. That's one thing I like about the snow.

Am I the only one who thinks this... (or am I looking back with white-tinted spectacles?) but didn't we used to get quite a lot of snow in winter time in Scotland? And did it not sometimes hang around for weeks on end?

It's not difficult to convince anyone in this part of the world that global warming is a reality (of course, not in summer time: only in winter!)

Snows no' what it used to be when it used to snow.

The other thing that seems strange to me is that the less snow we have in this part of the world, the more problems it seems to cause, or at least people seem to have more difficulty in coping with it when it does appear, especially with respect to transport. Why is that, for goodness sake?