I came across this new blog with an interesting title – Dirty Sexy Ministry – written by two priests and found it very interesting and humourous – it’s worth a look….
My thanks goes out to the Church Mouse for the annual church meeting survival guide….this has made the meetings more light hearted and fun!
They are well worth a read especially when you have more than one!
I went with the Bishop fo Grantham to a Confirmation Service at St. George’s Church in Stamford. It was a great service and there was a time of sharing of faith…why the candidates had chosen to / been called to be confirmed within the service. Katrina shared this poem she had written:
Part The CurtainsDoes not beauty shine forth behind the clouds? Does not light overrule the darkness? God’s light is like the sun above the clouds, Always present. And when the clouds part, does not a banner of hope come forth? A golden beacon, A candle in the dark. Does not a smile appear upon your face, At the sight of such beauty and hope? Don’t give up hoping, Don’t live in despair. Christ is watching from behind the clouds, Waiting for you to part the curtains, And embrace the light.
By Katrina Sissins
Advanced notice of an Evening with the Bishop of Grantham….it sounds like it’s going to be a great evening. I’d get your tickets quick as I’m sure they will soon sell out this unique event.
It’s Harvest time again….here is a harvest poem….
The Diary of a Church Mouse by John BetjemanHere among long-discarded cassocks, Damp stools, and half-split open hassocks, Here where the vicar never looks I nibble through old service books. Lean and alone I spend my days Behind this Church of England baize. I share my dark forgotten room With two oil-lamps and half a broom. The cleaner never bothers me, So here I eat my frugal tea. My bread is sawdust mixed with straw; My jam is polish for the floor. Christmas and Easter may be feasts For congregations and for priests, And so may Whitsun. All the same, They do not fill my meagre frame. For me the only feast at all Is Autumn’s Harvest Festival, When I can satisfy my want With ears of corn around the font. I climb the eagle’s brazen head To burrow through a loaf of bread. I scramble up the pulpit stair And gnaw the marrows hanging there. It is enjoyable to taste These items ere they go to waste, But how annoying when one finds That other mice with pagan minds Come into church my food to share Who have no proper business there. Two field mice who have no desire To be baptized, invade the choir. A large and most unfriendly rat Comes in to see what we are at. He says he thinks there is no God And yet he comes … it’s rather odd. This year he stole a sheaf of wheat (It screened our special preacher’s seat), And prosperous mice from fields away Come in to hear our organ play, And under cover of its notes Ate through the altar’s sheaf of oats. A Low Church mouse, who thinks that I Am too papistical, and High, Yet somehow doesn’t think it wrong To munch through Harvest Evensong, While I, who starve the whole year through, Must share my food with rodents who Except at this time of the year Not once inside the church appear. Within the human world I know Such goings-on could not be so, For human beings only do What their religion tells them to. They read the Bible every day And always, night and morning, pray, And just like me, the good church mouse, Worship each week in God’s own house, But all the same it’s strange to me How very full the church can be With people I don’t see at all Except at Harvest Festival.
This is worth reading and so true….
via The Vicar’s Wife