And so This is Christmas - And What Have We Done?

I'm not a fan of John Lennon. I know that is almost a stoning offence in this season where people have been remembering the 30 years - yes 30 - since he was killed, but I just don't... I like him marginally more than Paul McCartney... particularly the Paul McCartney that keep on showing up on live shows to sing badly with people who could be his grandchildren... but I was never really a fan of the Beatles full stop...

Anyway, with that admission out of the way, the one track by John Lennon that I do quite like, and actually bought at one point on vinyl... is "Happy Xmas (War is Over)". My liking of it is slightly diminished by the fact that it is now on that continuous loop of non-religious Christmas songs that plays in every shop from mid-November until Christmas Eve, but it is still better than most of the other musical tinsel... And a few years ago I devised a mime with it as a backing track, which, in the 3 minutes 34 seconds it allows, tells the story of the reconciling power of the incarnation, and the role of selfishness and asquisitiveness in Christ's crucifixion... Seriously...

A blog isn't a good place to describe a mime... It's like trying to describe a cartoon on the radio... Suffice it to say that it all ends with the Christ character standing with arms outstretched on the imaginary cross to which he has been nailed, draped with tinsel, adorned with baubles and crowned with a holly wreathe...

But what my words cannot convey about that mime... is much better expressed by Banksy's crucifix... (with a hat-tip to Ben Myers for reminding me of it...)

As many prepare for the last gasp dash to the shops, lets stop and remember why exactly Jesus was born, and died...

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A Woman of no Distinction

Don't often post other people's stuff here... But I found this so powerful that I thought I should. It's a performance poem based on John 4: 4-30, and I have attached the original YouTube video below. A word for women, and men, everywhere... "to be known is to be loved, and to be loved is to be known." I am a woman of no distinction of little importance. I am a women of no reputation save that which is bad. You whisper as I pass by and cast judgmental glances, Though you don’t really take the time to look at me, Or even get to know me. For to be known is to be loved, And to be loved is to be known. Otherwise what’s the point in doing either one of them in the first place? I WANT TO BE KNOWN. I want someone to look at my face And not just see two eyes, a nose, a mouth and two ears; But to see all that I am, and could be all my hopes, loves and fears. But that’s too much to hope for, to wish for, or pray for So I don’t, not anymore. Now I keep to myself And by that

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A short responsive psalm for us as a call to worship on Harvest Thanksgiving Sunday, and given that it was pouring with rain as I headed into church this morning the first line is an important remembrance that the rain we moan about is an important component of the fruitfulness of the land we live in: You tend the land and water it And the earth produces its abundance. You crown each year with your bounty, and our storehouses overflow with your goodness. The mountain meadows are covered with flocks and the valleys are filled with corn; Your people celebrate your boundless grace They shout for joy and sing. from Psalm 65

Anointed

There has been a lot of chatter on social media among some of my colleagues and others about the liturgical and socio-political niceties of Saturday's coronation and attendant festivities, especially the shielding of the anointing with the pictured spoon - the oldest and perhaps strangest of the coronation artefacts. Personally I thought that was at least an improvement on the cloth of gold canopy used in the previous coronation, but (pointless) debates are raging as to whether this is an ancient practice or was simply introduced in the previous service to shield the Queen from the TV cameras, not for purposes of sacredness, but understandable coyness, if she actually had to bare her breast bone in puritan 1950s Britain. But as any church leader knows, anything performed twice in a church becomes a tradition. All this goes to show that I did actually watch it, while doing other things - the whole shooting match from the pre-service concert with yer wumman in that lemon-

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