Category: Magazine articles

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The Secret Life of a Methodist Minister. Day 1062: The need for Good Samaritan politics.

This article was originally written in October 2016, but has been added only recently to the blog as a Secret Life Article…

Hectic September-October, Remembrance soon with us, writing at October end and deeply troubled by Donald Trump. Have not been doing enough cycling. Amazing things happening in the circuit. Great Circuit meeting, if not longer than usual. What is the appeal of Donald Trump? I, like I guess most people, do not fully understand the political landscape in the U.S. I understand that for some, the choice between Trump and Clinton is rather like voting to be hit by a train or a bus.

 When I look at the debate it seems to me that Clinton is doing much the same as my younger sister when we were growing up. We were both as bad as each other, but she had that knack of provoking me so I would react, and then looking all innocent in front of my parents, meaning that I was the one who got into trouble. As I write the election has not taken place but one thing is for sure. Trump, with his brash and bulldozing sensationalism, is making it easy for Clinton. When I listen to what he has to say, I can reach no other conclusion apart from the fact that he is both sexist and racist. Put it this way; what would other people think if I talked as he did? At the same time, I am quite sure that Clinton is no angel; she has her own questionable corporate sponsors, very little e-mail savvy (using her family PC to send security sensitive mail was “extremely careless” according to the FBI, as was err, losing them); some people feel that politically she is what she has to be in the moment.

 As we approach remembrance I am reminded of how politics – and with it, our world view – becomes so easily framed as ‘right’ or ‘wrong’, as if there are no grey areas. Whilst our political systems begin with a broad base of options, in time we are often forced to choose between extremes, neither of which are satisfactory. This is fed by rhetoric; our enemies are bad but we are good. In some sense, it is helpful for politicians to unite people against a common foe rather than focus on their own injustices. Often they create our enemies for us and we follow – like sheep. But I am also reminded of how Jesus sees through the rhetoric and challenges his contemporaries about who the real enemy is. He points, on numerous occasions to the Samaritans (who were despised by the jews) and shows how at times, they are a far better example of what it is to love your neighbour. And he certainly never said, ‘Let’s build a wall.’ In this season of remembrance may God grant us the grace to think independently, resist the temptation to follow the crowd, and to speak out against political manoeuvring when we see it. It does not just happen in government buildings. It happens everywhere.

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The Secret Life of a Methodist Minister Day 1034. Bike Light in the Dusk

Summer over. Kids back at school. Bike intact. Me intact. Dark in the evenings. Slippery underfoot.

Biking in the dark, even when you have a super-duper LED front light and a flashing red one on the rear. Not all of the Peterborough cycleways are lit, so you come to rely on your front light especially. There are some lovely blue LED lights sunk into the ground near Orton Mere – presumably to prevent cyclists from falling onto the river. It is surprising how vulnerable I feel (never a bad thing) when riding in the pitch black. I am on the lookout for two things; first, where the path is headed (which sounds easier than it is in reality because in the dark you travel slower and therefore the features that you look out for in the daytime don’t appear as quickly as you expect. What looks an obvious path in the daytime – where for example there is an intersection, is not so obvious at night. Meanwhile, the other hazard to look out for is wet leaves. The combination of all this at once can be quite disconcerting.

I find something quite profound in all of this. John in his gospel reminds us how Jesus says that he is the light of the word. We are reliant on him, just as I am completely reliant on my front light on a bike. I am also struck at how, whilst Jesus is the light of the World, the disciples still struggle to find their way. Just like the light on my bike, God gives them enough to find their way, but not so much that life is easy. As we travel, we take care. We can see the path, We are on the lookout for obstacles. We have a final destination in mind. The timing and scenery can be strange, unsettling even. But we journey on. For long periods there can be nothing else to light the path. Then we might be relieved as the path opens out – and the streetlamps take over. Of course, God could, if He wanted light the entire way for us. But I am not sure I would like that simplicity. I actually enjoy the journey. I enjoy a challenge. I even enjoy having to focus on keeping my balance rather than being preoccupied with the ‘worries’ of work.

When I think about how God is leading us as a circuit, I get the same feeling as I do when I ride at night, It is a curious mix of planning a route, breaking it up into stages, looking out for the waymarkers that say you are on the right track, and accepting that we live with the tensions of having enough information, but wanting to know more! And we do it because ultimately it is fulfilling and enjoyable. Is God calling you to do something new? Be encouraged and take a step of faith. God has great things in store.

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The Secret Life of a Methodist Minister Day 1043. The examination

Snoring unimproved

Fell of bike en route to the staff meeting. Went over a level crossing in the wet, at speed, and learnt a valuable lesson. The derailleur was bent. My ministerial colleague picked me up in his car. It’s at times like this you discover what supporting each other means -and how isolated we can become in the absence of the Church. My wife was more worried about me than the bike. I had a few scrapes and bruises, but my pride was intact. Got back on the bike two days later.  All OK.
Holiday went well. Am catching up on leave at the moment, which is a bit frustrating because of course the work does not stop, but I am reminding myself, as I do with our staff, that we cannot call others to balance work, rest and play unless we model it ourselves.

Had my viva (oral exam) for my doctorate the other day. Passed with minor corrections! The corrections have to be done within three months but I think it will take me about one. I don’t think that there were that many. They will write to me. All I know is that from the minute the examiner said, ‘we are delighted to tell you that’, I was holding back six years of blood, sweat and tears. The whole process was like Dragons Den with two examiners whose role is to look at your work, look for the weaknesses, pull it apart before your very eyes, question why you did this or that, or think this or that, and find ‘the limits of your knowledge.’ You want it to be hard because you want to know for yourself that you know your stuff. On the other hand, it is a bit like wanting to have your teeth inspected as the dentist prods around, finds a hole, asks whether it is sore and then recommends a filling or two, a scale and a polish!  The whole experience has been hugely rewarding. I started on the course because I wanted to be a better minister. To do a good job you need to know how the Church works; what you can do, what you can’t do, and you also need to be aware of the lessons of the past. My research was on the fundamental question of what helps churches grow, and how the Methodist Church can nurture its new congregations. One short answer is that we need to remember the reason why the Methodist Church was formed, and why still exists today. We are called to declare, in word and action, the good news about Jesus Christ. Jesus promises life in all its fullness. Through Jesus Christ, God, our Father in heaven, forgives our sin. We are released from the guilt and burden we feel. Through the Holy Spirit God does a work in us, as He shapes us into the people he calls us to be.

I think that secretly, some of us are nervous about that message. We don’t preach it enough. We assume that everyone knows it. We are wary of declaring it, of being proud of it, because other people believe other things, and because we don’t want to cause offence. But God is not asking us to force the message on people who don’t want to hear it. Or disrespect people who disagree with us. God asks us to share the message and to invite people to join us. God calls us to love.

What all this adds up to is that whilst churches can enrich communities in an innumerable number of ways, unless we share the gospel with them, in conversation or through small groups that explore the issue of faith, we are doing them a disservice. The Church is about faith. Not just fellowship. Not just tea and cakes. For example, the scones at Elton’s Strawberry tea were amazing. I don’t usually like scones but I did not want anything too sweet. I don’t usually like scones – but I was converted to these. But our job is to convert people to more than cakes. The cakes, as I have said before, are a step in the right direction though!

 

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The Secret Life of a Methodist Minister Day 977. So much good news.

Snoring and having to spend occasional nights in the study to allow Ro some undisturbed sleep.
Cycling is going OK getting fitter but ‘comfort’ issues remain. Methodist Standing orders to not outline any regulation for appropriate dress in the case that ministers cycle. Have avoided luminous shrink-wrapped chicken look to date.
Visited NHS dentist after 2½ year wait, but encouraged that I only need one filling.

The circuit meeting took place last night. I had a round of applause for finishing the main business in under an hour and a half – whilst covering some really significant points about our views on working ecumenically. The response to our report on supporting the Baptist Church in their efforts to plant a Church opposite Tesco’s in Hampton surprised me. We countered head-on two problems – that we rarely admit to – when members of local congregations are invited to work in partnership with local churches. First, why should we invest time when we are struggling ourselves. Second, what happens if the other church pinches all of the new people we bring along. Our response has been to say that whilst such insular thinking appeals in the short-term, in the long-term it denies the gospel, and works against us. God calls us to focus on doing the work of the Kingdom, and our growing experience is that the more we do together, the more we will benefit individually as well. I was taken aback by how this seemed to more from being received as an important statement, to being received as a prophetic statement that we need to fulfil.

When I announced that we were at the end of our main business and that we would move on to news from around the circuit, there was a round of applause! I was not sure what that meant, although I think that it is good when we have meetings that are focused, and when we feel that we are talking about matters that are crucial. The news from across the circuit was, yet again, encouraging, exciting, humbling (when I think about how much people are doing), and above all a testimony to the fact that when our churches take a step of faith and do something different – despite any nervous concerns – it pays off. Yaxley’s Queen’s Birthday Celebrations, Crowland’s two Messy Churches where over fifty people attended, Dogthorpe’s eleven young people who want to attend 3Generate, Whittlesey’s Anniversary Celebrations, Ewan’s news that he intends to abseil off the top of Peterborough Cathedral for their building fund (sponsorship would be welcomed), and Nigel and Grahams planning of Paul Wilson’s visit to the circuit in January 2017 (Paul is the leader of Methodist Evangelicals Together) – with people already offering to support with funding. And these are only the few that I can remember whilst I write.

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The Secret Life of a Methodist Minister Day 1000. On my bike

Snoring situation slightly improved. (Nights I have spent in spare room = 12. Nights wife spent spare room because husband slept through repeated poking = 1). Mmmm…..

Cycling is going well. Getting fitter and faster, and losing weight – off everywhere but my stomach. Have thinner arms and tree trunk legs. Started to wear cleats instead of using toe straps. Off the bike, I end up waddling like an overweight duck. On the bike, they are great and much safer. But there have been a few Jiminy Snicket moments where I have forgotten to unclip before junctions and those dreaded zig zag barriers that are placed across cycle-paths. These things are like the chicanes of Peterborough’s famed Green Wheel (which, before I started cycling point, I assumed was some kind of Environmentally Friendly Chinese Takeaway). The good news is that the cleat will always release if you fall off. The bad news that before this happens, you endure the sheer embarrassment of reaching out and clinging on to anything solid for dear life, before you eventually topple. I heard of one guy who once unclipped on one side but tried to get off on the other!

So the big change this summer, which most people won’t be aware of, is that I have taken to my cycling. To be honest, biking down to the Church from the manse is not exactly the most demanding exercise. Of course, there is much more to my role than just Brookside, and so when I am not with you at the Church I am biking everywhere…apart from Oundle and Elton, which are doable but probably need me to stay for the whole day to make the round trip viable. The only other evidence is me sneezing as I remove or put the bike back in the garage (apparently I can be recognised by my sneeze), a wobble as I cross the road, or a second thought as drivers pass me and then realise afterwards who I am. I thought that this whole thing would be radical to people, but wherever I go I have had nothing but encouragement as I hear from people who they themselves, or their relatives, biked everywhere – and I mean everywhere – in years past. Personally, I find that it is proving an excellent way to stay fit, and give me some thinking time between appointments.

This has been such an eye opener. The cycle paths take you places where you would not reach if you were travelling by road, and give you a different perspective on the communities we serve. I can see where the areas of wealth and poverty are. Like walking the dog, I say hello to people that I would not normally meet. And I am learning so many lessons about myself. Years ago my chosen sport was running, and even though I had tried cycling I had never taken to it. Now I am having to learn something new, and perhaps this relates to how we feel our own way at Brookside as we continue to find a way or organising and planning that works for us. First and foremost, despite my fears (especially with cleats), there have been no great accidents. There have been moments of real insecurity – most people fall off at some time – there have even been bruises (I fell off whilst practising on my back patio!) Ultimately, though, all has gone well. I have been anxious about having to cycle in traffic (you have to account for the failings of other drivers opening doors, accelerating past – not that cyclists are immune from moments of thoughtlessness either of course). Travelling via a new route can be challenging. Am I lost? Will I get there on time?  On the other hand, sometimes my breath is taken away – like at the back of Crowland, or the route down to Caistor and Ailsworth – by the sheer beauty that I had not expected to find. Often I am encouraged when I see how different parts of our road system connect….’Oh I see, I know where I am now….that is the road to so-and-so.’ I find that I have to plan meticulously what I must carry; phone, locks, replacement inner tubes, puncture patches, keys, emergency money, notes, laptop, clothes to change into, shoes….and clerical collar! And then I have to get my leg over not just the frame, but the pannier! Winter, no doubt will bring about its own challenges.

I have found that sometimes, disasters aren’t necessarily disasters – or particularly disastrous. One day I set out to cycle to church for a Sunday morning service and the chain snapped whilst I was going uphill over the Brotherhood interchange. It then jammed between the wheel and the derailleur, snapping the derailleur in half. (I have since replaced this old bike). Calmness and logical thinking prevailed; I had three options; lock the bike and call for a taxi and get straight to church; take the bike in the taxi and go home (the service around Peterborough is excellent); lock the bike, walk home, and drive to Church. In the end, the latter prevailed, but the lesson for me was that what at first might seem like a disaster is ultimately manageable – and there are in fact multiple options. I arrived at Church in my car, dressed in cycle kit (which left the steward a bit confused), and changed with 20 mins to spare!

Perhaps trying new things is always a good idea. And perhaps many of our anxieties, even when they happen, do not turn out to be the disaster that we had initially feared.

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The Secret Life of a Methodist Minister Day 692: Don’t forget the joy of the game

Caramac: Surprisingly few. In fact, my diet has suffered more of a tremor than a wobble. Graduated, in the heat and under extreme pressure from hayfever, from Caramac to Hagen Daz Ice-Cream x2 (Strawberry Cheesecake Flavour). Have put weight on but still fit comfortably into clothes. Caramac melts anyway.
Alcohol: Hardly any – it is just too hot to drink anything – and who wants to drink a pint of one thing knowing that more than a pint comes out of the other end. Have settled for cold, fruit based drinks.
Coffee: There has been a restriction on coffee based beverages due to cost implications, and the threat that I should have to get a Van Haigh card or something – but aren’t they only for retired people? I continue to sponge off the supernumerary ministers at their support group – using their loyalty cards when I buy a round – and pretend that I am Graham Tooth, Ray Garfoot, David Parkes, Jo Goodridge – or their wives. Will by my own discount card in the future.

I have had complaints that there have been few Secret Life entries and these are warranted. I went through a ‘This is really important, people need to hear this’ phase as I felt the need to underline how The Methodist Church and we as a circuit and local churches needed to remember our calling to ‘Advance the Christian Faith’. I hope this was helpful to people. I felt a bit Thatcheresque, laying down the law before the idea of closure enters our minds as some acceptable option, preventing us from thinking creatively about how we live out Our Calling….I had this image in my head of the Lady with the Handbag saying, ’You turn if you want to. This Lady’s not for turning.’ I hope it does not end for me as it did for her. I remember the riots and when the resignation was announced in our lecture theatre at York University! Seriously though, there comes a time when we discover what I….we…are all about. And so the Secret Life stopped. But now it is back by popular demand.

Summer is upon us. Our women’s national football team are number three in the world – it was a slightly surreal experience as the tables were turned for most blokes. Did you notice how, that not once did anyone make any comparisons to the men’s game such as…’They are rubbish, you are not; There was the killer own goal in the semis – a cruel blow – but to judge the side on that alone would be tabloid journalism. Murray lost Wimbledon – or perhaps it would be better to say that he managed to get through to the semi’s. The England Cricket team looked good in Cardiff and then collapsed under the weight of a really scary bodyline fast bowling attack at Lords. Mitchel Jonson looks like an animal when he runs in. I would not blame them. I would just run away. Here’s hoping that the Lion might roar in the third test.  There is something Kingdom like in the nature of sport. We try to make our own Kings and Queens, which is never a good idea. We are filled at times with our own sense of dominance and prowess until, the Australian Batsman Chris Rogers sees the grandstand moving at Lords and retires with a dizzy spell due to an ‘ear problem’…or the cruel bobble of a ball or a limb in the way destroys everything. We go for gold and forget the joy of playing the game so easily. We need both.

It is becoming a repeated message – but an important one. When I look at Wimbledon I see similarities with what we do at Church. In one sense Wimbledon should all be about the tennis. But in another sense it is not. It is something that is at the heart of British culture and whilst the two do not collide, what the ball does should be more important. And so it is with Church. Some of what we do at Church is bedrock. Other aspects of what we do at Church is cultural decoration. Lest we take our eyes off the ball, we need to remember what is important and celebrate the rest, so long as it does not get in the way.

 

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The Secret Life of a Methodist Minister. Day 531: An admission of madness

Alcohol: 1 bottle, over 1 week (on holiday)
Treats: Almost a full bar of white chocolate (someone else started it and I had to finish it)
Weight Loss: Now fitting into my 80’s jackets (not a good look!)

It was mental health day the other week. I was a bit disappointed in myself that I did not say much; that I did not make some kind of grand gesture, what with my having been managing my own mental health since the age of 17. I thought about videoing myself and posting it on the web. I still might do that but I was so busy at the time I never got round to it. I did talk to the congregation at Dogthorpe about it – and I think it resonated. I guess I will have to keep doing what I usually do, which is to quietly affirm people that we all have mental health and that managing a mental health problem is no different than managing any other condition that is on a spectrum. After all, we don’t say, ‘Oh no I have got asthma, I need to put my life on hold!’ Or, ‘Oh no I have diabetes, I can’t work!’ These conditions of varying severity and can be managed. I knew that sometime I would fess-up but I figured that it might be best to give it a year. That way they will have had enough time to see get to see me at work under pressure. At least then they will be less likely to think, ‘Do we need to worry about this bloke?’ or ‘Is he telling us this before he cracks up?’

I forgot to add that the most sane person I ever knew was a manic depressive who at one time also suffered from mild schizophrenia. He met every month during the first year of our marriage and prayed with us both. He had a huge impact. Despite his struggles, Andy (that is not his real name) was the most self-aware and balanced human being I have ever met. I think that managing his own mental health meant that he had a kind of mindfulness that was not present in many other people. He had such an ability to discern what was true and what was a product of his condition. At the same time, he was a deeply spiritual guy who did not shy away from the fact that God can speak to us in profound ways. So he could be depressed and yet know at the same time what God was saying. He was so open and honest. I have heard it said before, ‘Don’t worry about those who have a mental health problem and speak openly about it. Worry about those who think that they are sane but in reality are far from it.’ Wise words.

I tried to get across what my brand of mental health struggle feels like. I suffer from Generalised Anxiety Disorder – with the occasional panic attack thrown in. I have gotten used to managing panic attacks now – no-one would know when one begin to rear its head, but they are such an irritant. For a while I felt a unity with others in the congregation who suffered with hot flushes – but could not say anything! I think it will be something that is always with me. There are periods when it is bad and then there are periods when I have no symptoms at all. I just – well- manage it. Generalised anxiety is more than just worry. The way I explain it to people is to get them to think about that feeling of dread that happens before you say have a near-miss in the car. I then tell them to imagine what it would be like if rather than that fear fading, it does not drop down. Then I ask them to think about it the other way. What if your worries build up to a feeling of dread? Imagine what that might feel like. That is what is meant by ‘anxiety’. The trigger for me was a tendency to overwork – or to be working so hard that I don’t allow time to manage the unexpected so when it comes, I push myself too hard and then my body objects. I am a workaholic who is driven, like a lot of people in the Church, by a feeling of guilt about what cannot be easily left undone.

The apostle Paul speaks of how our faith is like treasure in clay jars. I think that to be a mature Christian is to know both have the love and power of Christ in us, but to also know the limits of the clay-jar. I also think that maturity comes from having experienced God’s faithfulness when you are at the lowest point. I believe that healing can come through talking and sharing honestly about how we feel. I hope that there can be no better place for this than the family of the Church. There are so many people who suffer with mental health issues but don’t feel that they can talk about it. Worry not. Having a mental health problem does not make you or me weak. It makes us human. Bizarrely, it can make us more sane than others who have not experienced such trials.

God bless you all.

 

Langley

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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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