Rector's Ramblings

Please take a note of my new Blog Page http://kenny-macaulay.blogspot.com/ post it in your favourites, change your links, and most importantly, keep in touch!

Kenny

Although it may take a week or two to make it all final and satisfactory, this blog has moved to THIS ADDRESS. Apologies for the inconvenience, but we'll be up and running again soon!

I think The Provost almost took the day with a wonderful blurb about the new "Pisckie Sign", although Canon Bayne kinda spoiled it by flagging it up clearly as an April Fool early on. Shame!

However, my very favourite ran on Fr Heron's blog... See below:

The Scotland match was a bit tinged by other agendas last night, which was a shame! Should your goalie and your captain, having arrived back from Holland at 4am on a Sunday morning, be allowed to stay up drinking in the hotel bar until 11am on Sunday? Errr. Nah. Said captain and goalie were dropped, and put on the bench last night. Acceptable? Nah! Their little asses shouldn't have hit the ground and they should have been sent home right away. In fact, I'd never let them play for Scotland again.

We did better without them anyway last night, and winning 2-1, although not a spectacular result, was comfortable, with a little bit of flair thrown in at times.

The Tartan Army have to put up with much, but we shouldn't have to tolerate a couple of prima donnas and a weak management team. My son tells me the supporters were tucked up in bed in Amsterdam long before 4am. (With whom, I'm unsure) They had to get home to the wives on Sunday, rather than party at the Cameron House Hotel!

Disgraceful after a 3-0 defeat anyway!

Off to see Scotland now in World Cup Qualifier. Why does it have a "Good Friday" feel about it?

Outside Bristol Zoo there is a car park where cars and
coaches can park.

There was also a nice bloke with a hat and ticket machine charging cars
and coaches . This parking attendant worked there for about 25 years ,
then one day didn't turn up for work...

Ho hum say Bristol Zoo management-
Better phone up Bristol City Council and get them to send a new parking
attendant......

Err no say the Council...That car park is your responsibility...

Err no say Bristol Zoo the attendant was employed by you wasn't he....
Err NO!!!!

Sitting in his villa in Spain is a bloke who had been taking the car park
takings for Bristol Zoo for the last 25 years...

I think it's about a year now, of being dissatisfied and sometimes grumpy, over Blog.co.uk. Spurred on by Eamonn, who suggested that I'd be able to import the current blog into another one, I set off yesterday to begin a new blog with Wordpress. Not sure I want to go on with that now!

The Wordpress back page I'm finding difficult to cope with, and maybe I'm just thick or something, but things seem to be much more complicated.

It has also become apparent that all of the stuff in this blog will need to be jettisoned, and I don't know if I want to lose it all. Tough, tough decision!

It's at times like these that your local clergy begin to panic. Holy Week looms large and panic sets in. Am I prepared? Do I have all the bits and bobs, from palm crosses through to Paschal Candle and incense grains. All the plans, grand as they were, for this year after last Holy Week have maybe been watered down a little. Will people come? How much can we be ecumenical without losing some of our wonderful liturgical moments as we pass through this week.

Yes, I panic! The last meeting of the Lent Study Group tonight brings it home that Holy Week and Easter are on my doorstep, chapping to get in...

However, a day at a time from now on, and everything seems to work out OK.

Now, where did I store the Vigil Candles from Christmas-time? Do I need to buy some more? Will they remember flowers for the Altar of Repose on Maundy Thursday? O Lord.....

Thinking and praying through the compilation of this morning's sermon, I suppose I had a little epiphany. It was when I started following the line that the Greeks, outsiders, marginalised, were being included in The Kingdom, that my thoughts turned to this.

Do we welcome gay people in the SEC? Well, it seems that we do and we don't. If you are gay, in a same sex relationship, you cannot be a bishop. The Church will bless a same-sex union, as long as you don't invite the bishop to officiate, or even have him/her present.

Talk about mixed messages?

Ashamed of myself, today, for supporting this line of thinking. Same-sex unions are either right or they are wrong, so I'm "coming out" today and changing my mind. This state of affairs is really unsupportable. Let's go for it and take on Akinola and his crew. If it's of God, which I believe it is, then it will be alright in the end and we'll survive the flak!

With current activity it seems that the SA has brought another mouse home. The dogs can't be bothered, but the SA and I know where it is hiding! Bed & breakfast?

Well it was expected eh? The Dutch are a world-class outfit, but for the first 30 Minutes, we held our own, and should have scored ourselves. A switch off defensively, and a cruel goal past the time added on meant that we went in to the interval 2-0 down. The Scots played well with a very weakened team and actually scored a really decent goal which was disallowed by a French referee for some reason. Giving a penalty to Holland two minutes later was the killer.

We were outclassed tonight. However, with a bit more luck, we could have had a result.

Team UK? No thanks!

This was photographed tonight in a pub in the Red Light district of Amsterdam. Not sure why my son is there, but glad to see a Nil fan has been there before him!

You read it first HERE!

Sometimes words hit you like a brick. I was moved today to find this BLOG.

A poem from the blog is worth reading:

If there was a pill that could make me straight

…..Straight in body

…..Straight in mind

…..Straight in heart

……....I would not take it.

If taking such a pill would restore all my lost friendships

…..And regain my parents pride

…..And give back my families respect

…..…..I would not take it.

If taking such a pill would return me to my former ministry

…..And the admiration of the congregation

…..And the loving welcome of the church

…..…..I would not take it.

If taking such a pill would replace the love I have for my wife with an equal love for a man

…..And we could legally marry

…..And we would be granted full rights under the law without fighting for them

…..…..I would not take it.

If taking such a pill would mean no one would reject me for being who I am

…..And for saying what I believe

…..And for standing boldly as one who follows Christ

…..…..I would not take it.

If taking such a pill could take the world back in time,

…..Before I came out of the closet,

…..Before I said I was gay

…..Before I knew I was gay

…..Before inequality touched me

…..Before hate revealed its ugliness to me

…..Before anyone rejected me

…..Before anything was lost to me

…..Before I ever questioned God’s love for me

…..…..I would not take it.

If taking that pill would make me straight

…..And famous

…..And wealthy

…..And talented

…..And adored

…..And beautiful

…..And thin

……....I would not take it.

……....I would not take it.

……....I. Would. Not. Take. It.

I would never take a pill that would make me straight because

……....I love being who I am

……....I love being whole and free

……….I love seeing the world from where I stand

……....I love knowing God from this place

……....I love feeling passion burning in me for equality

……....I love being part of a people who are courageous and relentless

……....I love being one in Spirit with every queer youth

…………..With every gay man and woman

……………With every bisexual man and woman

…………..With every transman and transwoman

……………With every ally and friend

……………With everyone who questions, doubts and searches

……….And I love being one in Spirit with you

……………Bound in hope, and faith, and love

……………Bound in God

If there was a pill I could take that would make you straight

………..And taking that pill would end all your confusion and anxiety

……….And remove your fear that God has rejected you

……………I would not take that pill even for you.

You are gay.

…..You are not wrong.

…..…..You are not sinful.

…..…..…..You are not evil or perverted.

…..…....…..…You are not unworthy.

…..…..…..…..…..You are not a mistake.

…..…..…..…..…..…..You are not to be ashamed.

You are gay.

…..God loves you.

…..…..God holds you.

…..…..…..God stands with you.

…..…..…..…..God delights in you.

…..…..…..…..…..God calls you “My own.”

If there was a pill that could make me straight

…..And make you straight

…..And you

…..And you

…..And you

……....I would not take it.

……....I would not take it.

……....I. Would. Not. Take. It.

I dropped the RW off at the airport early this morning. She's off to Welsh Wales to visit her son/sister & brother-in-law, leaving Archie, Peanut and the staring Toastie, (along with the Silent Assassin), to look after me!

I think of the bliss of a weekend on my own.... yes, I actually DO enjoy my own company... and then have a quick look at my diary, and realise that any serious "play" would be consigned to an hour this afternoon, and maybe a couple of hours on Sunday after services, before she returns on Sunday evening. So much for plans to paint the town red!

I was going to put some time aside to go for Morris Dancing Classes, so that I could feel a bit more in-tune with my English brothers, and have a bit more empathy with their culture, but that's out the window now.

I'll need to prepare myself for the Dutch knocking at least five goals past Scotland tomorrow instead. It's worse than Partick Thistle Nil. Going to Amsterdam with around 10 call-offs from the squad is just suicidal! Do you think those who called off know something?

My son is off to Amsterdam to watch. Through his fingers probably!

After heated exchanges about Scottish "racism", I share, with bated breath, an advert seen in The Diary of today's Herald!

THIS MAY COME AS A SURPRISE TO THOSE OF YOU NOT LIVING IN
LAS VEGAS , BUT THERE ARE MORE CATHOLIC CHURCHES THAN CASINOS.

NOT SURPRISINGLY, SOME WORSHIPERS AT SUNDAY SERVICES WILL GIVE CASINO CHIPS RATHER THAN CASH WHEN THE BASKET IS PASSED. SINCE THEY GET CHIPS FROM MANY DIFFERENT CASINOS, THE CHURCHES HAVE DEVISED A METHOD TO COLLECT THE OFFERINGS..

THE CHURCHES SEND ALL THEIR COLLECTED CHIPS TO A NEARBY FRANCISCAN MONASTERY FOR SORTING AND THEN THE CHIPS ARE TAKEN TO THE CASINOS OF ORIGIN AND CASHED IN.

THIS IS DONE BY THE CHIP MONKS

Seen at the Concert tonight featuring the Faslane Wind Band:

At least somebody reads the Mag!

The RW is traumatised tonight after finding the perfectly formed body of a dead rabbit under the dining room table. No head. Just the body. (Perhaps the head will be on my pillow tonight) She bravely grabbed a plastic bag, picked it up by the tail, and put it in the bin. We know you are supposed to pick these things up by the ears, but sadly the ears were gone. (With the head).

I suppose the Silent Assassin feels her kills have to be much more impressive these days, with Archie now resident, but this is somewhat OTT.

We have an interesting relationship with the SA and Archie. He tries to eat her, and she tries to shred his nose with the sharpened claws. Eventually they'll tire of this, or I'll end up in the Asylum.

As you may know, the RW is being taken to training classes. I think she should go to Fr Heron's where more practical methods are addressed.

There comes a point when you have to ask yourself that question! I've managed to fall out with three good people in the past 24 hours. Of course, every one of them was wrong and I was right. Still am! However, you need to ask yourself, when these things keep happening to you... is it possibly me?

There is a cause out there worth fighting for! Moves are afoot to enter a Great Britain Football Team into the next Olympics! How can this be? Since the game began, we invented it, there have been four different Associations, Engerlund, Wales, Northern Ireland, and of course Scotland. The other footballing nations have constantly called this into question, and some have moved to allow only one team to represent the UK.

We, the Celtic nations, (not Engerlund), have vigorously opposed this with success. Now Lord Coe, who said "F*** Them!" when Scotland Wales and Ireland refused to give in to having a UK team at the Olympics, wants to just go ahead anyway. It's the thin end of the wedge and I'm surprised and more than a little upset that Gordon Brown seems to be supporting him!

We all know what Team GB means. A squad of 19 English players with a token Scot, and maybe someone from Wales and Ireland so we don't get too upset.

The Scottish Footballing Nation have a history and a pride that will not be taken from us. We will fight to the end to save us from being swallowed up by smarmy Big Brother down south.

"Freedom!"

Those following this Blog will have noted that the gable end of the tenement. next door,  fell through the church roof, but we have been told, verbally, that we are not covered by our insurance policy.

I got the official letter today which is quite succinct! Amongst other things, it says:

"Although one of the insured perils is impact, this is only impact caused by vehicles, animals, or articles falling from aircraft."

In other words.... if a coo had fallen oot a plane and come through your roof you would have been covered!

I often catch the oldest dog, poor Toastie, just staring at me. It's always a long stare, the other pets have gone to lie in their corners, and there is Toastie, staring, and I often wonder what he's thinking, if dogs really think at all.

I suppose I bestow human gifts upon him.... empathy for one, or is he just trying to weigh up my current mood? He knows me so well, my ups and downs, my elation and desperation, and seems terribly empathic to them all.

Today, it's desperation. My pills seem to be having a funny effect on me, I'm feeling down, and Toastie stares, silently saying, "I'll come and hug you if you like!" Or is he just weighing up his chances of getting a fly biscuit or a chew of a used tissue?

Why am I down anyway? Count the blessings, Kenny! However many they are, and they are legion really, it's the negatives that are creeping into my consciousness and taking control. My dad's frailty and his future. The fact we have no relationship at all now, of any worth. My sense of failure to have done or achieved much, due to years of alcoholism. The way I perceive people think of me: a fool, an ass, holding on in life by the skin of my teeth. The sinking realisation that I'm never going to do things I would have liked to do, as wasted years have left it all too late.

I guess it's wilderness experience. The wilderness of Lent and the experience of the Cross.

And I know that resurrection will come and that I will not always feel like this.

Meanwhile, Toastie stares on.

Smashing stuff here, but this one must have been taken at a strange time! There are spaces in the car park next door!

Out of date, now. The hall has now gone!

MadPriest gives us some insights on what's going on outwith the Scottish Church. What would happen to us if Akinola and his crowd were to be translated into the Scottish College of Bishops? There may be one or two rather nice Scottish Charges which would become vacant overnight! And a few funerals to attend too!

So, now the countdown begins for Saturday's World Cup Qualifier against Holland in Amsterdam. (This is soccer, by way of explanation, for American readers.)

My last jaunt to Amsterdam with the Tartan Army saw us beaten only 6-0. However, boy, did we party afterwards? Being sober, (I think I was the only one), I got talking to policemen who said that Scotland were the only nation the Dutch played that didn't require them to be togged up in riot gear. "Even when PSV, (a Dutch league team and rivals to Ajax Amsterdam), come here, we need riot squads and vans, but you people in skirts and bagpipes only want to party. It's good fun!"

My Scottish Pride went up a notch that night! Who lets a 6-0 drubbing get into the way of a good party!

We'll Be Comin'

I'm afraid we were short on Primates in St Auggie's today but it was good to welcome Simon Barrow, co-director of Ekklesia, and a theologian of some note. I love Simon's visits, but I can get a bit uptight about what I'm preaching! It's almost like being back at New College! Will the theology get an A+ or a C-. Not that I have any reason to feel that way, I suppose it's just a natural reaction, like Mrs Blethers having the Primus turn up on the Sunday she was preaching.

Simon comes all the way from Exeter to watch Dumbarton Football Club playing, and he waxes lyrically about them on one of his other blogs, Only Just Offside. Sadly a 2-0 gubbing by Annan Athletic, of all teams, sent him homewards today with his tail between his legs!

Church was good today. Lots of children and young people there, some missing as ever, (we have a secret rota for taking a Sunday off, I think, which nobody has told me about), but over 60 at the Sunday Main Service is good for us! 

And flowers aplenty for ALL the wimmen, and the men too!

These two young ladies were excellent helpers!

Then to Firhill to watch Partick Thistle Nil get a creditable draw which keeps us well in the promotion race. The spirit was willing to return to the West End tonight to hear  The Provost's angels sing, but the flesh was rather weak, especially with the RW still recovering from being red all over!

And I had to watch my recording of the PTN match to make sure I missed nothing, and to delight again in a glorious equaliser!

My son is off to Amsterdam next weekend to watch Scotland play the Dutch, but that will be a different story altogether!

Fr David Heron helps to enlighten us on matters which Scots Law may have to one day address:

"What's the connection between a mad Muslim cleric and the Archbishop of Nigeria? Apparently their views on gays are similar. Anjem Choudary, a firebrand cleric who wants to see Britain ruled by Sharia law says: 'There are some people who are attracted to donkeys but that does not mean it is right.' However, Choudary follows strict rules of compassion to gays. His faith says: "You don't stone to death unless there are four eyewitnesses. It is a very stringent procedure". He may now be investigated by the police. 'Hate laws' in Britain ban stirring up violence against minorities. The laws in Nigeria are different. Archbishop Akinola supports the imprisonment of the hated rather than the haters. This means that, were the Archbishop to preach such views in England, he could be arrested! The Nigerian cleric is a leading figure of 'conservative' Anglicans who share his views against gays and donkeys."

Pictured below is a very "fanciable" donkey.

We all proudly turned up at The Municipal Buildings tonight to see Barbara Barnes awarded Citizen of the Year. It was long overdue. Some pics will appear in the Parish Site, but one or two memories...

Of couse the St Aug's Family were there for the free food and drink...

and her own family were there to be as proud as punch of a wonderful woman..

This afternoon the RW went a deep shade of red... red all over.... and i decided she had to see a doctor. The said GP kept saying, "How bizarre!" as she looked over the Aberdeen strip that is actually the RW! It seems she has an extreme throat infection, how bizarre, and has been given antibiotics. A throat swab was taken, which will indicate a high level of verbosity, but what else?

Meanwhile Archie and I galloped in Balloch Park, well he swam in Loch Lomond and gave me the benefit of a good few shakes as he emerged from rather energetic swimming and ball fetching. It's the only way to keep the dug clean!

Getting the black suit on now, and off to see Barbara, one of the flock, being awarded Citizen of the Year by West Dunbartonshire Cooncil! Dead proud so I am!

Like most parishes, I guess, we do wee special things for Mothering Sunday, like give out wee posies for the ladies and cards for the mums in the congregation. However, the Lectionary doesn't seem ever to touch on Mothering Sunday as it grinds through Lenten Themes. I've been looking at Sunday's readings all week and trying, desperately, to tie something into Mothering Sunday, or just "Mother's Day" as the ordinary folk in my congregation will call it, whatever I tell them!

It's times like these that I just want to preach about Motherhood, and Mother Church and ignore the readings for the day, but the guilt of doing so is always too much for me. Why have readings, then just ignore them? The alternative, I suppose is to look through the American Lectionary and substitute the readings they have on Mother's Day, which I believe they keep sometime in May when Lent and Easter is all done and dusted.

Maybe I've missed something and there are alternative readings somewhere? The Liturgical experts can maybe help me out!

The Rw has come home from work with a raging fever and has been sent off to bed. It has to be bad if the RW goes to bed, so, cooking, cleaning, dog walking, washing, (or is that dog washing and walking), seem to be down to yours truly. Archie has not been trained to such heights - yet!

Now posted under Multimedia, Photo Gallery.. in the PARISH SITE, photos of the Irish Night, Jean and Lucy's Baptism, and Archie has a folder to himself!

Worst ever today.....

St Auggie's rose to the occasion again tonight with an Irish night! Never had one of these before! So the setting of today's funeral became this:-

The Guinness was flowing:

And the Rector enjoyed "The Fields of Athenry"

As usual everyone made a brilliant effort, and although it was a free night for all, no charge, donations meant we still made a tidy sum! Well done to my little flock! They're just so special!

More photos will appear in The Gallery of the Parish Site by the weekend!

As I arrive home after burying someone who died with great dignity, with only her family at her bedside, I'm kind of offended by THIS stuff. And under "Entertainment" too!

I read THIS with great interest! So, next time someone rather overweight criticises me for smoking, beware.....

In my last ministry I was heavily involved in this issue and The Chat House, in Maryhill in Glasgow are still addressing these issues. It's good to see Amnesty International getting involved. There are too many people, because of current Immigration Policy who are being refused asylum, even although a return to their country will involve torture or possibly death.

Ministry can be wonderfully fulfilling. Today has been exceptionally busy, but even so, the Study Group tonight was stimulating, and we really got our heads around some difficult situation theology. I came away wanting more discussion, more stimulation, and the warmth, welcome and trust of the group was good for me in a day where lots of little things made me sad.

Some stuff depresses me, an unfair reaction to a blog item, but if you put stuff into the public domain in a blog, be prepared for it to come back and bite you on the bum! When will I ever learn?

Sadder still was receiving Sadie's remains into church at tea-time, in preparation for her funeral tomorrow. There had been times in my ministry here when I could have seen Sadie far enough, but since her diagnosis of terminal cancer, we had grown really close. Anointing, talking about death and afterlife, seeing fear dissipating slowly although not entirely, taking Holy Communion, sharing a cigarette or three with her, and her with lung cancer too, made for a closeness and affinity which I came to treasure in a way.

Sadie had fought and overcome so much in her life, and in the end I was really happy that I'd actually come to know her as the person she really was. It reminded me of my ministry in the Beatson Oncology Unit while I was at the Cathedral, when strong bonds were made with people during the last weeks and days of their lives. It is such an honour to care for the dying.

Tomorrow we shall celebrate her life, (a very full life!), and there will be tears, some of regret, some of sadness at her passing, some of mirth as we recall experiences and events she shared with us.

As I say, ministry can be so fulfilling, even the sad bits!

Having a rare Saturday evening off, the RW and I went off to the pictures to watch "Marley and Me". To give you an idea of how often I go to the movies, the last one I saw was the last Star Trek Movie that was made.. a while ago now!

I just drool over Jennifer Anniston, I loved the book, so why did I feel so let down? Well, it was a mediocre film, with some poor acting, but on reflection, how can you film the personality of a dog? There were probably lots of different Marley dogs used in the film! An impossible task.

However, I still came home with a warm feeling in my gut! Partick Thistle Nil had won again, at Dunfermline of all places, and, yet again, the League Title just looks like a possibility! We haven't won a game at Dunfermline for 26 years!

We Believe!

As a service to the community, we provide very cheap lunches on Fridays, just soup, toasties, coffee, tea, and cake for a very reasonable £1.60 or thereabouts. Since the hall has been demolished we have used the back of the church as a cafe area to continue this ministry. It's good for some of the older folk, and the company and gossip keeps many of them going!

Since we moved to the church, our entrance is actually on the High Street. This has meant new clientele coming through the doors. Excellent, then, today to make £130 for church funds, and many went away well fed and well happy!

The women, and man, who provide this ministry are superstars indeed!

Well, the after dinner entertainment last night at the RW's "big do" was to turn one of the big rooms at the Lodge on the Loch into a casino. They were all given "chips" to play with, and the RW did rather well. Pity the chips were worthless, or so she said, but one employee had a pocketful by 11pm and he was taking his home!

The RW played a mean Black Jack and a slightly less successful, but rewarding, bit of Poker. She'll be getting the collection to hit the town with on Sunday, methinks!

Meanwhile, I was chairing one of the liveliest Vestry Meetings since my arrival here. It feels like we could have a big future as a congregation engaging with the community, and everyone appeared to be totally onside with that concept. The new hall brings with it incredible opportunities for service to the Town Centre. Now all we have to do is afford the final bill!

Doris lived in the Spinney flats. A sprightly octogenarian, she lived on her own with only her budgie for company. She had never married and the only family she had, an elder sister, lived in a nursing home in Gateshead. She rarely managed to get over to see her. In fact, she rarely got out at all. Once a day she would trundle, slowly, round to the Co-op to pick up some groceries. Often she didn’t actually need anything but she still went just so she didn’t go the whole day without seeing another face. In the old days the staff in the shop would greet her by name as she walked through the door. Nowadays, it seemed to be a check out assistant everyday and she had become just another face in the crowd. She also got the impression that they were a bit annoyed about how long it took her to get her money out of her purse and clear the counter of her purchases.

But, once a week, Doris traveled further afield. It was her special treat. Every Tuesday evening she would walk to the bus stop at the end of the street and catch the 6.50 to the bottom end of Heaton. Once there she would go straight to the Gala Bingo hall where she would buy a half pint of Guinness and one book of bingo cards. For the next three hours she enjoyed all the noise and excitement of the game. She had never won anything but that wasn’t the point. She went to remind herself that she was still alive. It was Tuesday evening that got her through the rest of the week.

One such Tuesday evening (it was a bitterly cold night in late January), Doris was sitting at her usual table in the bingo hall. It was towards the end of the evening and she was getting tired. In fact, she was so snoozy that she hardly noticed that she was ticking off the numbers at a much faster rate than normal.

“Two fat ladies, eighty eight” announced the caller.

“That’s my age,” thought Doris before suddenly realising that eighty eight was the last number on her card.

“House!” she squealed, and the room went silent. A woman in a smart uniform moved towards her table and two minutes later Doris was sitting with £550 in her purse.

She was a very happy lady when she left the club that night. The bus arrived quickly and she sat down and started thinking of all the bills she could pay off with her winnings. She was so caught up in reverie that she didn’t notice the two young women who had followed her out the club and who were now sitting behind her on the bus.

Doris got off the bus at her stop, crossed the road and walked down the poorly lit alley between the post office and the off licence.

Afterwards she could remember very little of what happened next. She heard the two, young women shouting at her. She felt the pain as they punched her and she fell to the ground. But she didn’t remember them reaching into her handbag and stealing the purse which contained her winnings. Then, her attackers were gone and Doris lay on the pavement in her own blood, slipping in and out of consciousness.

The first person to notice Doris lying on the ground was the curate from the parish church. He was walking back from a funeral visit where, he thought, he had done rather well in bringing consolation to the bereaved family. Okay, he used the same patter every time but he liked to think he did so with the skill and delivery of a Shakespearian actor. He was particularly proud of his pastoral abilities.

But he hadn’t eaten that evening and he was fond of his food so he didn’t bother to walk into the alley.

“I’ll phone the police when I get home,” he thought. “If I remember.”

He didn’t remember.

The next person to come along was a local, lady councilor. She had just left a ward meeting at the library where she had, in her mind, been unfairly criticised by local residents about the new parking scheme. One gentleman had accused the council of imposing stealth taxes and she hated it when the public guessed right.

She was in quite a filthy mood when she nearly tripped over Doris.

“I ought to tell somebody about this,” she thought.

But she wanted to get home to catch “Newsnight” on the TV. Her party leader was going to be on talking about the care of the elderly in the community. Something she had a particular interest in.

“I’ll phone the police when I get home,” she thought. “If I remember.”

She didn’t remember.

It was a good, ten minutes later that Tony came round the corner on his way home to the flats. He was a young black man. Tall and muscular and with his hood pulled up over his shaven head he looked quite intimidating.

He hadn’t lived in Heaton long. He had been moved up here from Folkestone by the immigration authorities whilst he waited for them to decide whether or not he qualified for political asylum. He had left his home in Nigeria, three months earlier after being arrested and beaten up by the local police when members of his own family discovered he was gay and reported him.

Tony knelt down beside Doris and told her that everything was going to be fine. He took off his hooded jacket and lay it over her after taking his mobile phone from one of its pockets. Ten minutes later an ambulance arrived and the paramedics carefully lifted Doris onto a stretcher and into the back of the ambulance. Tony sat with her on her journey to the General and it wasn’t quite midnight when Doris was lying in a hospital bed, with her wounds cleaned and stitched up and her broken arm bandaged and strapped up. With the pain relief and the events of the night Doris was hardly aware of what was happening to her. The last thing she remembered seeing, before she drifted off into a peaceful sleep, was Tony sitting beside her bed. The last thing she remembered feeling was Tony’s hand holding hers.

The RW cashes in on yet another freebie today. An afternoon and evening entertaining the suppliers to her firm at the Lodge on the Loch. (Loch Lomond). Carriages will dump her back at The Rectory after 11 tonight! In contrast, I'm having a sandwich lunch with a Church of Scotland minister, although she's a nice minister!

It's the Warfarin Clinic again today for blood tests, a romp with the dog, loads of paperwork, heating up my meal for one at teatime, and a Vestry (PCC) meeting this evening. I should be flogging whisky rather than God. It's obviously more rewarding, despite the RW's protestations!

So... off to the vampires for more blood tests!

Well, there you go! Just when you thought you were down and out, the Partick Thistle Nil go up to Ross County, (Dingwall), and record a convincing 2-0 win. Still in touch at the top, as our nearest opponents were both beaten! Now, that's what I call a neat Tuesday evening. Season Ticket back off the market!

Archie took the RW to her first training session tonight and he was the star of the show. Demonstrated perfectly how to walk to heel, sit and stay. The instructor was tres impressed! So, now the RW has learned that lesson, we look forward to the next one.... we'll have the RW rolling over in no time at all!

Back to the Warfarin Clinic today where they took, as ever, copious amounts of blood.. so now add warfarin to beta-blockers and anti-depressants and I'll soon be needing one of these wee plastic things to remind me what pills to take when.

Now looking forward to cardioversion and the possibility of at least getting shot of the rat poison after a couple of months.

I took at least some comfort in the fact that the lassies in the anti-coagulant clinic are good looking and have a tremendous sense of humour! I'm told today that this is yet another service being taken away from out local community hospital, (Vale of Leven), and we'll be checked now by nurses from Glasgow. The world is going mad!

And a MUST READ!!!!

Big thanks to MP for this stuff! So powerful!

Preached today around Teilhard de Chardin's wonderful premiss: "We are not human beings having a spiritual experience, but spiritual beings having a human experience." Wow!

Shocking and disgraceful performance yesterday on the Field of Dreams. Against our arch rivals Clyde too! Clyde had one shot at goal. A passback from one of our centre backs which our goalkeeper took a swipe at and totally miskicked. Not a Clyde player within 30 yards. There are own goals and own goals, but this was a classic.

Woeful performance that saw us miss chance after chance, although the Clyde keeper managed to keep his eye on the ball and made two spectacular saves.

Any hope of promotion is gone. And I'm expected to preach about hope today? At least the Clyde fans will be lying in bed today repeating the mantra, "There IS a God".

Season Ticket, slightly used, for sale. Any offer accepted.

Clicking on this twice makes it slightly more legible!

Peanut, the spaniel pup has come into season, rather quickly and unexpectedly. It must be all the testestorone around with Archie's arrival. The male spaniel has been rather clueless in the past about what do do in these situations, despite my advice, and is looking on while the Golden Retriever, (who's had the snip btw), tries to mount a pup who is the size of his head. What is shocking is that Peanut is all for it and is positively encouraging.

This makes for grim times in The Rectory at present. What has become clear is that we must have a gay spaniel. Sorry, Toastie, but that's how it seems at present! Good Episcopalian tradition. We are a very inclusive Church! I hasten to add that Toastie seems to be the only gay in the village, sorry, Rectory!

We hosted the World Day of Prayer Service yesterday, compiled by the women of the incredibly beautiful Papua New Guinea. This is a new country which we in the West only discovered in the 1930s. Even in the early 80s it was a fantastic place to be, which a Church bearing all the marks of a New Testament Church, full of the Gifts of the Spirit. Tribal disagreements were settled with bows and arrows and it was rich in rain forests.

Today, due to open cast mining for gold, copper and other minerals, the environment has been raped by the West, and civil war over this issue cost 20,000 lives. Rainforests are disappearing, and instead of bows and arrows, we have sold them automatic machine guns. Oh! And as a bonus for buying our "goods", we have thrown in HIV and AIDS as a free gift.

Who needs to repent here?

Yep! That time of year again when the staff and their spouses, "bidie-ins", and other hangers-on get to go to the all expenses paid Ball at The Hilton Hotel, Glasgow. I get to go being the RW's long suffering spouse. All over Edrington in the days running up to "The Ball" unexpected things happen. Eyelashes start to grow at an alarming rate, tans appear and get darker by the day, fingernails suddenly are long and manicured, and that's just the men!

The women are drawn to darker practices. Take one of the RW's team, (let's just call her Jackie Graham for want of another name), decided this year that her eyebrows had to be a bit darker than usual. However, even she didn't dream that she would end up looking like Alastair Darling. Flashing a rather fetching tattoo, and with the Darlingesque looks, she drew admiring glances from the Accounting boys in the ballroom tonight.

It was only right that the organizers sat me next to a woman who had been brought up in a convent, a lady befitting my station, but I suspect they didn't know who else would particularly want to sit beside me, and I suppose it was a tactical ploy to sit a man-of-the-cloth next to the free bar, knowing that my presbyterian stare would deter others from imbibing a little too freely.

Yet again, a beautiful meal in wonderful company, although I don't understand why the RW is always seated very far away from the boss. I was also sitting far from JG. These eyebrows would have put me off my dinner!

The new "dogmobile", being long and black, could, I've decided, be made into a hearse as well as a seven seater. This could be an interesting development in my ministry and I'm sure I could drastically undercut Funeralcare and other local businesses. Just the job for those who tell me they just want to be buried in a cardboard box. We even have Archie who would be willing to dig the hole! Toastie & Peanut have the sad spaniel faces to be professional mourners, and flowers could be provided off the altar after Sunday's services!

All I need is an embalmer............. although I'm sure they do modules on this in some souped-up Uni somewhere?

Probably photoshopped, but it's neat anyway!

Slept for 15 hours! How tired is that?

Partick Thistle Nil on Saturday!

Visited dad today, again, but it was no ordinary visit, visiting someone who is my dad, but unrecognizable. Nobody seems to want to come up with a solution, but clearing up excrement, changing beds, and clothes, and hoping that he might be better tomorrow is not the best solution. Social Work and the Addiction Team bounce him off each other, and nobody will take responsibility. At least home helps come in daily but they are not required to clean up shit.

I'm sad, depressed, and at a point where I don't know what to do. Can somebody in authority help? Nah!

He got violent with me again today. Just his own exasperation and anger.

Heart up to 150bpm. Dizzy. Going to bed. The Lent Group will happen without me.

Little did I know when I was elected by Diocesan Synod to be a member of the Provincial Panel for Episcopal Elections that I would be called on so quickly! Bishop Martin is due to leave Argyll and the Isles soon, but it was a shock to learn that my own Bishop has announced his retirement in July. I don't really expect to be involved in Martin's replacement, but I certainly will be in the replacement of my own Bishop.

Anyone daft enough to want to be a Bishop?

Been a pretty depressing few days health-wise, although I don't feel too bad. Because my heart is still racing, the doc, today, has put me on beta blockers until the cardioversion is done, but the real downer is going back on Warfarin. It means at least one visit every week to the anti-coagulant clinic at The Vale, and I got a letter on Saturday giving me an appointment this afternoon. I've duly postponed it as I have better fish to fry this pm. Have a heart, guys and give me a bit more notice!

A lunch with fellow clergy at the Three Craws is just what I need to cheer me up, and a chance of a natter with fellow bloggers, Gadgetvicar and Ali Chesworth, amongst others, we hope. A wee pick-up after a pretty dismal Synod on Saturday.

Spotted in The Herald Sports Diary today:-

I have never had a manager who, while I'm standing in the shower cleaning my balls, tells me I'm the best player in the world. He did that. I'll never forget it." - Frank Lampard sheds a tear for the demise of his beautiful relationship with Jose Mourinho.

While I was enduring Diocesan Synod yesterday, Partick Thistle Nil was visiting another "soulless" place, aka Livingston. The Nil, playing in their away pink strip, were the men against the boys yesterday! A 4-2 win keeps us in contention for promotion to the League of Greed, although few fans really want promotion. It would mean having to play Celtic and Rangers twice every year, and our stomachs could hardly bear that! We're not yet ready for the Big Boys, methinks. Maybe next season!

Before the match yesterday, the Italian owner of Livi had a statement read out to the crowd about the fact that tabloid newspapers in Scotland were giving him and his team a hard time. "Is it because I'm Italian?", he asked publicly.

No, you silly man... it's because you have been persistently late in paying your players wages and the balance sheet is looking in critical condition under your stewardship. We love all things Italian in Scotland! Chippies especially! We just don't like folk who make promises they then cannot keep. Stop blaming the tabloids for your mismanagement of a petty pathetic football club!

We probably hit an all time low today, or did we? This afternoon we went out and bought a car that is more suited to the dogs than it might be for ourselves, or maybe not!

It's not that Archie has his Driving License, yet, although he does have a pet passport, but squeezing him into the boot of the RW's Fiesta was a bit of a task, and Archie never really liked it too much. The same goes for my Honda, which had a lot more room, but was getting ruined by muddy wet dog. The other two, Toastie and Peanut had been "promoted" to the back seat on both cars with the inevitable dog hair/mud scenario creeping closer and closer to the driver!

So, out we went this afternoon to trade in the Fiesta against an Archie Car. Now is obviously a good time to buy second hand vehicles and we got a great, in fact brilliant, deal from Arnold Clark on a black Vauxhall Zafira. It's a 7 seater, which means that it will be useful for parish stuff and going in small groups to Cursillo meetings, but when the back seats, or third row of seats, are folded down there is masses of space for three dogs to lie out and sleep on the way home from the Big Walkies!

This will now become my wheels for during the week, and I'll get my Honda back for evenings and weekends. Archie is happy, the RW is happy, I'm over the moon, (I hated the Fiesta with a vengeance), and the salesman maybe reached his monthly target today!

Roll on Monday when we pick it up, although how the three dogs get on together in the space on long journeys remains to be seen.

Someone else got to wear the Rectory Birthday Hat tonight! Happy Birthday Maggie!

and the dugs and the cat cashed in with the leftovers!

It perhaps surprised me today that almost half of the normal Sunday worshippers were in church today for Ash Wednesday. There would have been a time here, not so long ago, that Ash Wednesday would barely have been noticed, and certainly the imposition of ashes were seen as a "Catholic" thing and something we proddies just didn't do! Times change! Although the imposition of ashes is an optional thing, and is offered only to those who want it, 90% of both congregations today came for it!

I read today of Church of Scotland charges increasingly using McMillan's St Anne's Mass, and sense, in Christendom, a coming together of different extremes in some kind of commonality. In St Augustine's they didn't have candles 15 years ago!

Perhaps Pope Benedict isn't helping this process much, but Roman Catholics are attending St Auggie's quite comfortably these days, and attending their own services too.

Some of our repentance today, on Ash Wednesday should surely be about the divided Church of God, but perhaps the mainstream denominations, at least, are celebrating the things within each others traditions which are helpful and worthwhile.

I was back at the Cardiologist again yesterday, as the old ticker is racing away at 120 -150 bpm. A bit too fast. So, that's me back on the warfarin again, drat, beta blockers, and the prospect of cardioversion again. Needless to say, it's put me on a real downer, and I'm right fed up with myself today.

It's obviously why I've felt so tired of late, but I thought I might get away with taking some amioderine or something like it rather than warfarin which means weekly hospital appointments to check my blood. This will, no doubt, be my Lenten Penance!

However, church was busy this morning and no doubt we'll get a few more tonight. Sin is alive and well in Dumbarton!

The goal "wot I missed" on Saturday!

Archie, Peanut and friend Bailey go swimming! Toastie notable by his reticence to go anywhere near water!

The RW had an accident last night. Having run out of little cubes that go into the dishwasher she improvised with a skoosh of washing up liquid instead! Below are the results.....

There ensued the great mopping up operation....

and, of course, Archie was there to help!

Two baptisms this morning on the Sunday before Lent begins. Lucy, a nine-year-old, high as a kite on adrenaline and her granny, Jean. Done in true St Auggie's style with lots of laughter, fun and celebration. There's something very special about Adult Baptism, and we've had two already this year.

Caught a bit of Richard Holloway's programme on Radio Scotland before the 9am service today, where he was interviewing an MSP and member of Holy Trinity Dunoon. (Same parish as she of Blethers fame) I was quite tickled when he commented that he sailed to the sister parish in Rothesay more these days, and, perhaps, took a wee swipe at "happy clappy charismatics" (who could he mean), but did I actually hear Richard Holloway correctly? Did the man say something along the lines of... The Scottish Episcopal Church is lacking leadership at the moment?

Great victory today at Firhill, and guess who was in Perth discussing "holy" things with some Cursillistas who are really rather "unholy" at times? Seriously, it was a great day all round, and will be remembered as the day we all celebrated Cat's 50th Birthday. I think I made a joke that she was 60, but she's much younger than that - honest!

What joy in the car going home as we discovered, eventually that The Jags had gubbed the Mighty Morton!

Next Saturday is Diocesan Synod, another match missed, but if we keep winning while I'm absent I'll not complain too much!

Even Dumbarton had a decent result today!

Archie went fishing today!

The art of begging at The Rectory is alive and barking. It's one way to control three at once!

Well, not quite! Archie blotted his copybook today. A little child, clutching his cuddly dinosaur, dropped it as Archie approached in lolloping mode. Archie thought it was obviously his, a present, and made off with it in the park. One rather distraught child, and a minute later, the dinosaur was given back. Unfortunate. The Big Boy loves cuddly toys! He has a few of his own!

I can see Child Protection being brought in here, though! A Rectory dog possibly will need disclosure checks in future if he doesn't wise up!

David Fulton, the Scottish Christian Missionary, jailed with his wife for sedition in The Gambia at the end of last year, has been charged with more crimes in that country. At first, there was a move from people in the press in Scotland, (yes, I got my fair share of calls to comment on the situation), to do a story about the poor Christian who was being persecuted for his faith by a Muslim country.

I said at the time that this was "tosh", as Christians and Muslims rub along rather well in The Gambia. One simply obeys the rules of that country when you are given permission to live and work there. Unfortunately, although he should certainly have known better, David and his wife were extremely critical of the present regime. That may well be your opinion in The Gambia, but it's not an opinion that should be aired openly at the moment. Certainly sending critical emails to organisations which fund Gambian projects, as well as to friends, is more than a little silly. However....

There may be more to this man than first met the eye. He finds himself in court again! Is it cos he ain't a Muslim? Perhaps not, after all.

Partick Thistle Nil have combined forces, it seems, with the NHS in Glasgow, to root out sinners just like me in a Press Release today! It says:

Players and management from Partick Thistle Football Club will be given the
chance to stick the boot into cigarettes tomorrow when they join forces
with the local Smoking Cessation team.

The fun has been organised at Partick Thistle Football ground where some of
the Smoking Cessation team will donned cigarette outfits and the players
will be given the opportunity to kick the cigs.

Cutting smoking levels is one of NHS Greater Glasgow and Clyde's (NHSGGC)
top priorities and getting the support of a top Scottish football team on
the run up to No Smoking Day has been a real boost in driving home the
message that smoking kills.;

Around 29% of deaths at all ages are attributable to smoking and here in
Greater Glasgow and Clyde we have a lot more smokers than the Scottish
average.

The Smoking Cessation team will be out and about at three different venues
on No Smoking Day, Wednesday, March 11th. They will on hand to offer
advice and information on services available locally at Maryhill Shopping
Centre, ASDA, Maryhill, and Springburn Shopping Centre.

Gerry Crawley, Smoking Cessation Officer, who has organised the event
thanked the Partick Thistle management team for offering their support on
the run up to No Smoking Day.

He added: "In the current financial climate every penny counts and giving
up smoking will help people save money as well as the many health benefits
of stopping smoking.

"Anyone thinking about giving up smoking is welcome to come and meet the
team at any of the three venues on No Smoking Day and get advice which will
be beneficial to their health and their wealth."

I often write about my own struggles with depression, and know that many of my visitors to this Blog struggle too, at times. There's a refreshing article in THE HERALD today. If only those who had ears to hear! We depressives have a lot of talents, gifts and insights that the world would do well not to reject!

It's not often that I take great pride in John McFall, my Member of Parliament. His voting in the House on Trident and on the recent Embryology Bill irked me somewhat. However, this week he shone like the sun! Well done John!

Read it here.

Got a wonderful little thing pushed my way today, worthy of sharing:

Do not be afraid, for the Great Hand will guide you.
But whose is The Hand, and where will it take me?
It is the Hand of all Humanity. It is the good within us all. It crosses all religions and beliefs.
It is The Great Hand of Love.
Hold it and all will be well.

Sickener at Firhill this afternoon, especially now that we can wave goodbye to any chance of promotion to the League of Greed. A penalty given against us in the last minute or two, a heroic save from our keeper, and a static defence allowed the rebound to be converted. How sickening is that? Especially since we played fairly well today and deserved a share of the spoils at least.

However, we are having to put up with some dreadful defending at the moment, and there were enough chances there for Thistle to bury the Fifers earlier on. Perhaps our over-eagerness to win this afternoon led to several breakaways, from which a Dunfermline winner could easily have come long before the penalty award.

Typically poor refereeing again from a man who has been booted out of Premier League games because he's a walking disaster area. Today he didn't disappoint.

Sick as a parrot? Moi? Definitely!!!

We had our experiment, but with a little regret moving our Friday lunches to the Church of Scotland across the road was too much of a burden on our folk, and next week we return to set up our lunches at the back of our own church building. Apart from anything else, we'll get some passing trade on the High Street, and more people will be exposed to the beauty and holiness of our building!

At lunch today, a lady brought up an interesting subject. She felt that ministers and priests often didn't "see" their congregation. They preached at them, read to them, but often didn't "see" them. I've been thinking about this all afternoon. What did she mean by "seeing" them?

I know that on a Sunday as outstretched palms come towards me to receive Our Lord in the Eucharist that I am very aware of each individual and their needs, concerns, worries and all that is going on with their lives, as much as I'm allowed to know, anyway. As a priest, at that very holy moment, I'm aware that I'm giving them the broken body of Jesus, that he will be taken away with them from the altar rail, and will have entered their lives in, sometimes, a really deep and meaningful way. So I see them, hands outstretched, sometimes gnarled, sometimes manicured, some dirty, some well used others fine and befitting of their jobs or lifestyles, but each different and with different needs and concerns.

I like to think that the sacrament gives me the opportunity to "see" them all, to pray for them all even for a tiny moment, to bless them all in their pain and struggles. I am deeply honoured to be able to do that.

How they "see" me might be interesting to know at times! I'd love them to "see" a wounded healer, but I'm aware that most don't, and I'm just "Kenny". I've often heard that.. "Ach that's just Kenny, you know what he's like!"

Maybe. Maybe God knows best of all, as God also knows much much more of the hands that come outstretched to the altar, needing to be fed.

I'd encourage anyone, including my little flock, to visit http://www.thurible.net/20090210/sermon/

Some super stuff from The Provost of our Cathedral!

One of the joys of the world economic recession is to lose one's job and to earn no money. All Anglicans who are thrown onto the scrap-heap should be eternally thankful to the Almighty.

Full story: http://fatherdavidheron.blogspot.com/2009/02/joys-of-unemployment-and-poverty.html

From THE TIMES:

Anglicans were commanded to “go forth and evangelise” yesterday in a dramatic assertion of missionary fervour that could jeopardise carefully built-up relations with Muslims, Jews and other faiths. The established Church of England put decades of liberal-inspired political correctness behind it in a move that led one bishop to condemn in anger the “evangelistic rants”.

The Church’s General Synod, meeting in London, overwhelmingly backed a motion to force its bishops to report on their “understanding of the uniqueness of Christ in Britain’s multifaith society” and offer guidance in sharing “the gospel of salvation” with people of other faiths and none. The move echoes 19th-century missions to Britain’s overseas colonies, with the difference being that modern-day evangelicals want to be mandated to carry out these missions on home turf.

The Rev Nezlin Sterling, who represents the black-led churches and is a minister in the New Testament Assembly, said evangelisation should be a priority. “Every person in my mind is a potential convert.”

The move was proposed by Paul Eddy, a lay member from the Winchester diocese. He said that the uniqueness of Christ must not be compromised by Anglicans. “It does no harm for the Church to re-state it’s beliefs time and time again and then to go further — in this case commending good practice in making that belief known.”

The Rev Andrew Dow, a vicar in Cheltenham, said he did not think bishops should be put through a “sort of doctrinal and theological Ofsted”. It was something the whole Church had to wrestle with. “I believe we are in danger of losing our confidence in this great although admittedly difficult truth,” he said. The Church needed to recover its confidence in proclaiming that “Jesus is the only saviour”.

It's at times like these that I'm really glad to be a Scottish Episcopalian!

The Silent Assassin has accepted Archie into the fold, but torments the life out of him. No cuddling up here, not yet anyway, but she has decided that we can all be in the one room without having to hiss at the Big Boy. Of course, sitting on the window ledge gives her the opportunity to contemplate how to wind Archie up that little bit more!