Author: Rev Dr Langley Mackrell-Hey

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The Secret Life of a Superintendent Minister, Day 284: I am pretty sure I did not entertain an angel

 

Alcohol: Three units. You drink one pint and in this heat, lose three pints out of the other end. Instant dehydration is no fun.
Fags: None. Never have smoked, never will. Would rather have a weight problem than an addiction to nicotine.
Caramac: Surprisingly little – it melts in the heat.
Walks: Decent amount of dog walking. Feeling fitter.
Hay-fever: Pretty bad. Ended up sneezing through the Grace at the end of a Circuit Meeting last week.
A bloke turned up on my doorstep the other day. It was my day off – although I call the day off a rest day because I never want people to think that I am not available for emergencies. Anyway, there I was in the shower and the doorbell rang. Ro answered it and guided someone to the lounge, leaving me to quickly look presentable. When I got down I was confronted by a middle-aged man who wanted a lift to Stamford, so he could make his way to Durham….so he could attend an interview at the passport office….so he could get back to his family in Vancouver…..because his UK passport was overdue. I am not going to say the name of the person; ironically, he did not give a name, but suffice to say listening to him was like having to put up with a double glazing sales agent who would not take no for an answer. In reality, this is probably a discredit to those who are in the double-glazing trade. He even produced evidence of past journeys – but to my mind, things did not add up. I did think about offering to go and buy a bus ticket for him or driving him to the station, but when I asked what plans he had from there, it was clear that there was nothing. Then I told him that I could not, in all honesty, offer a ticket to him unless he had other plans in place – such as someone to stay with. So I suggested he go to the Salvation Army (in fairness, I did not know what the Salvation Army had to offer, but was prepared to phone a colleague who would). It was at that point he made up to leave, saying that I had not listened and advising me that as pastor I should rethink my vocation! Unfortunately, I did not have the presence of mind to say that whilst his patter was good, parts of his story did not add up, and perhaps he should examine his logic of having had the money at one point to buy a fistful of tickets, having a family in Canada, and yet getting himself stuck here. -not that this would have been appropriate. When people do accost ministers, they know that the minister does not have the luxury of responding back in the same way. Anyway, I was left feeling a little disturbed, mindful of how vulnerable I could have been (my wife was listening in the kitchen), and still thinking about whether I did the right thing. In the end, I think I did, but there is always this feeling that ‘we can entertain angels unawares’ (Hebrews 13:2) and whether I had misjudged a genuine case. I guess I will never know – but he was the one who walked out.
I don’t know what to make of this. As ministers, we are urged to be ‘as wise as serpents but as gentle as doves’ (Matthew 10:16). At least I can say that I did offer a response. It is just that it was not a response that he wanted to hear. I guess the whole scenario is about the fact that to do ministry we have to be available, but we also at times have to make difficult decisions on the evidence we have. as for the reader, one of the things we can do is pray for this young man, even though he did not give a name. There have been times when I have met people who are not fraudsters but who, put simply, have just not thought through their actions. This case seemed a little different though. The stories and the answers he had ready to questions were a little bit too prepared.
mmm….
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The Secret life of a Methodist Minister. Day 261 – Conflict is inevitable: Combat is not

Weight – don’t know, have not bothered to weigh myself but shirts still fit. Beer – none, but there was some peach snaps whilst on holiday. Fags – none. Chocolate – white chocolate Easter ration and occasional nibbling of left over Easter Egg pieces. (Although it looks a lot there is not much chocolate in an Easter Egg. Not as much as there is in the world famous lorry driver’s Yorkie anyway)

For the first time ever I have introduced my body to serious household decorating. I have painted the odd wall before and I remember rollering a toilet cubicle when I was in my teens‎, but up until this point in my life I have never sat down with Ro and thought about colour schemes. Even more surprising is the fact that it was my idea. Work has been so hectic for the both of us that I felt we should do something together. Now I am a regular at Homebase and B@Q. We have seen the colour charts. We have conquered thecolour chartss. We have had the standard marital dispute of ‘this is my wall, I am doing it, go away back to your purple pout feature wall and let me get on with it. We have existed with furniture piled up in the centre of the room covered with those cheap polythene dust sheets, which by the way are rubbish if you want to decorate in bear feet as they stick to them. (Tip – although painting in bear feet seems a bit odd, the advantage is that if you tread in paint you can feel it). Another breakthrough is that I am no longer a wallpaper virgin thanks to day videos on the internet. I came. I saw. I conquered. Now I am knackered and still covered in purple and hessian coloured spots – and wallpaper paste. The dog, by the way has been banished to his kennel and the garden, meaning that at the end of each session, as we look to recover and take him for a gentle walk, he is absolutely mad for it and into everything.

I have learnt two things as part of this recent love driven, homemaking, let’s do something together as a married couple escapade. One, when you work with someone else to create something beautiful, conflict is inevitable but combat is not. ‎Second, whatever you do in life there are seldom any shortcuts and there will be times when you are both stretched and brought to your knees. The two jobs I hate are wallpapering into corners (praise the Lord we only did one wall) and painting skirting boards. Finally, and perhaps more seriously, something dramatic must have happened for me to suggest decorating on the first place. Could it be that I have found somewhere where I am comfortable enough to see the manse as a home where we will settle, rather than a shell with magnolia walks to live in?

Before I finish I would like to say a massive word of thanks to Malcolm on the property team who has worked tirelessly to keep masses up to standard over the years – and for all his hard work in so many other areas. Malcolm is sending down from this role and as a family we would like to wish him all the best.

Tickets will be on sale to visit the manse and observe the colour combination of light hessian, raspberry blush, sea breeze, electric blue, brilliant white – and at this rate lime green, although discussions are continuing.

Every blessing

Langley

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The Secret Life of a Methodist Minister, Day 153: The Day of the Dog

Further to my last entry, things have moved forward on the ‘replace the children with goats’ argument which had been raging in my mind. Goats cut the grass, produce milk, and probably make less mess than the rest of the family put together. However, because there were no available agencies at which one could exchange their children for animals, we have had to think laterally. We are going to get a dog.

The dog was born in the second week of December and is still with the breeder at the moment. He is a puppy black Labrador. In fairness, I have been negotiating this with Ro for the past 18 years but it has not been until now that things have come to fruition. Whilst there have been endless conversations about who is going to walk it, groom it, clean up after it and repair whatever it chews, I still see some considerable merit in having a dog. Firstly, it will get me out to do some more exercise. Secondly, whilst there is unlikely to be a reduction in the mess left lying around the house, we won’t ever have to clean the kitchen floor again.

The dog’s name, after much (surprisingly calm) debate, will be Sherlock. This is because the BBC’s Sherlock production is one of my wife’s favourite TV programmes, and when we go and see him, he does nothing but sniff around all the time. The kids are excited about welcoming Sherlock into our home – and the preparation for his arrival has really given us an opportunity to think about how we live as a family. This includes the realisation that if you do happen to leave something out on the floor or not in its right place, the dog will most probably chew on it – and it is not their fault. Seriously, though, we have been able to talk about how a new puppy is likely to be anxious, need its own space and benefit from peace and calm, the likes of which is not always evident in the house. All of us (apart from my wonderful wife of course) contribute to raised voices, especially when Dad has lost his car keys, his dog collar, or his shoes. (By the way, you can train a dog to sniff out car keys, so this might be a plus.)

I have been amazed, whilst doing the preparatory visits to pet supermarkets, of how people treat their dogs. You can practically dress your dog as you would a human. There are a vast range of luxury goods from toys to treats, there are kennels that are luxurious and bedding which would be heaven for a homeless person. All of our children have bought some item or other that Sherlock will need – but we have not gone quite so mad. (He only has two toys). Dog charities rightly say that a dog is not for Christmas, it is for life. We are only too aware of this. Sherlock will become part of our family. We are making way for him. We are thinking about everything we can do to welcome him. We are already in love with him, even if he is not with us yet.

There is something in this whole experience that has raised questions for me about the injustice of our world – where some might have the disposable income to spend on housing their pet animals whilst others elsewhere do not have the money to spend on their children. In some ways it is difficult to change this; we are all caught up in a global economy and unless we become a commune, we cannot disengage with it. But what if we changed the subject of that charity phrase and said that Jesus is not just for Christmas – He is for life.  How would that challenge us?

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