St Paul's - what ordinary folk think

I came into conversation about St Paul's no less than four times yesterday whilst going about my day. Not only that but a concerned person came and knocked on the door of the Vicar's palace late last night asking what they could do about the situation!

It seems to me that the situation at St Paul's has touched a nerve and caused many to regard the Church as a body that is firmly in bed with those who have. The only saving grace was that no one actually used the term 'the Conservative Party at prayer', but it's what they surely felt.

The consensus was that St Paul's (funny how like Spring, the building is a sentient entity) should open its doors and welcome in the protesters. Rowan should have made an appearance on the first day and spoken out about the great divide between rich and poor, the excesses of the financial types and the obscenity of the ever increasing profit. "St Paul's is a church that is built on Jesus," said one commentator, "So why are they living like it's a City establishment?"

I explained that there are tensions in that the desire to accomodate and embrace is countered by the pressure of paying the bills, maintaining the building and keeping the lights on and that this was the most likely cause of asking the people to leave. In telling people this we reveal the problem facing so many Christians every day - doing what we need to do Vs doing what is right.

My companion last night said that surely no one would cut the power off because St Paul's hadn't paid. Sadly though, I wasn't so sure.

Another said, "Surely if St Paul's embraced the protesters and ran into financial problems because of it, people would rally round and pay the shortfalls!" Sadly I find myself engaged in a number of things and whilst they are the 'right' things to do, when others hear of it (and the pressures they create) they merely shuffle off, more concerned at meeting their own needs than supporting what should be done! Those who would merely say, "Be well, be blessed and leg it having done nothing are still with us.

A further comment came regarding the wealth of the CofE, how it owns land, property and great treasures. I pointed out the fact that 'having stuff' generated money (well it did!) and this money meant that the bills could be paid, support for the diocese I am in and many other needs could be met. "But they should sell it all," came the response. My reply was, "Fine, but will you put your hand in pocket to help the churches in your town continue? Will you pay so that we can keep our lights on and work in the community?" There was no answer - but I think we all know the answer.

I am always amazed at the number of people who assume that the CofE gets its money from some state funded source and when I explain that our little church needs something approaching £20k to pay the Parish Share and then find money for everything else - they mumble about 'never knew' and 'not right' and leg it (slowly but it is still legging it!).

So for those who stumble across this and think we're living in luxury with no pressures on us consider the image below and then ask - am I supporting the work of my local church?

(click on the image to see a larger image)

Pax

Be sure they really understand!

Talking to a friend after this morning's service and we were talking about the fact that we (the family) meandered into a wood full of extremely angry hornets. One of our girls was getting covered in the nasty things and beginning to panic so I rushed down the path to her and started clearing them off. Realising that this wasn't the place to be we bugged out (sic!) and in the process I received about seven really big stings and another five which were less painful!

So, one of the church members suggested that I apply vinegar to the stings and another suggested something else, which I hadn't heard of, and this took me back to a situation a few years back when I was working in the City of London (scene shimmers) . . .

Having arrived at work, one of the staff members advised me to keep a wide berth of one of the young ladies because she appeared to be a 'bit grumpy'. Well, I soon realised that the 'bit grumpy' was on a par with the Titanic being a 'problem with a boat'. She was foul and as the temperature rose so did her temper and by lunchtime I decided that, being a Christian, I should take her aside and see what the problem was.

After a bit of a conversation I asked her why she was being so irritable and offer my services if I could help. "Well, you're a Christian aren't you?" she asked, "So if I tell you will you promise not to tell anyone else here?" I quickly affirmed the Christian bit and promised not to tell anyone at work what the problem was, and so she told me.

Actually I rather wished she hadn't when she had because it transpired that she what sounded very much like that wonderful yeast infection, Thrush. Having heard something on the radio about it (think it was Woman's Hour - still a good listen to and from the crem' even today) I explained that the solution was readily to hand - all she had to do was pop over to the shops and buy a live yoghurt and, a la Henry Cooper, "slap it on all over" for a few days and (to quote my mate Dave), "The job's a good'un!" With that I left, assuming that I had done my good Samaritan bit for the day.

The next day I came in and apparently our heroine was in an even fouler mood and not only that, but she was apparently after my blood too! Confused I popped over to where she was usually to be found and immediately came under a broadside of abuse! Eventually, when it had subsided a little, I asked how the problem was and she said it was no better thanks to me 'taking the mickey' (although I recall perhaps stronger words were used here) and to make matters even worse the raspberry pips were 'playing havoc with her 'sore bits' (my paraphrase of something I'm too polite to record accurately!).

It didn't take long to ascertain that a raspberry yoghurt purchased from Benjy's next door hadn't been a great deal of help and that she hadn't understood what I meant by 'live yoghurt'. I rushed down to a friendly fine food seller along the road in Leadenhall Market and purchased a large tub of the required substance. Having taken it to her I suggested that she applied some ASAP and kept the remaining stuff labelled in the 'fridge as hers for use over the rest of the week (mind you, I've just realised that there was quite a bit of moaning about people using other people's stuff - let's hope her yoghurt never got helped to!!).

Bottom (or very near it) line is that once I had explained properly and made sure that I knew the person had understood, the problem was solved. This is a lesson I thing we all need because sometimes the pip that come from miscommunication can indeed be troublesome and even when the object of our advice applies it (they think) properly, we might find things actually get a whole lot worse!

So there we are, lesson, anecdote and medical tip in one post - economic or what?

Pax