The Vicar's a Time Lord! - A cautionary tale

A long time ago, when the world was young, there was a man who could control time.

When the situation was such that more time was needed to be available for him to get things done then he merely slowed time down such everything that needed to be accomplished was carried out in the same time slot that was ordinarily available to the mere mortals around him - except there was more of it for him!

Whilst the general populace thought that there was but one day left before an event, the time lord, thanks to his time-shifting abilities managed to make it such that he could get three days work in - and so all rejoiced as the event ran like clockwork (and on time too!) with no one any the wiser (although the people were amazed at the work rate of the man in question).

As the man's life progressed he came to faith and later became a Vicar, a role where the special skills and abilities he possessed really came to the fore. Fetes, services and festivals were always delivered without a hitch and without the slightest blip for, when anything that might have previously been a problem appeared on the horizon, the Vicar would merely bend time to make sure enough was available to make sure everything necessary was done to make whatever it was happen.

Our time lord Vicar  became aware of a strange phenomenon which at first he supposed was the result of all of his twisting and stretching of time. It was a most troubling and extremely bizarre phenomenon because it seemed that wherever he was time ran like clockwork and all the people worked normally. The weird bit was that the moment he left, so to (it seemed to him) did time itself! It's true, as soon as he was somewhere else, in the place he'd left, time stopped until he returned!

The moment he appeared things started getting done but as soon as he departed everything stopped again! Busy groups of people were, immediately he left, rendered still, silent and completely inactive and yet, should he walk back in to their presence, they start moving and acting as if they'd never stopped. Bizarrely, none of them seemed to have any realisation that they'd been in what seemed to be suspended animation the minute the Vicar had left!

'It must be a folding of the time-space continuum,' he thought to himself as he returned from his two-week's holiday to find nothing had been done while he was away and it seemed to him that everyone was exactly where he'd left them.

He repeated the exercise time and time again and yet, without fail, found that the same thing happened (or rather didn't) to the extent that he was ready to promote his empirical hypothesis, on the basis of his experiment and measured research,  to the state whereby it was to become known as 'Vicar's law'.

Now I'm sure that there are many out there who are totally aware that the time-space continuum had not been corrupted or distorted by the Vicar's stretching of time at all and this is the reason that 'Vicar's Law' never made it into print or onto the stages whereby accolades and plaudits were heaped upon him. No journals have ever carried the research because, as I'm sure you will already know is this:

What our hero had observed was no figment of his imagination but was a reality many Clergy live with!

For the reality is this:

Time really continued as normal when he was absent.

The terrible reality, which is just a little too terrible to contemplate, is this:

The people had been doing nothing for almost all of the time but he was just too busy (or perhaps too polite) to mention, or even notice!

It was only when he was absent that the fact that the others were doing nothing became obvious!

(glad that's not the case where I am)

Hello - Can you tell me what the job's like?

The beginning of a rather interesting telephone call as one of those considering applying for a job engaged with me. Of course they didn't ask the one important question (are you going for it). Of course, even if I had been I'd have answered exactly the same way because I'd like to think that vacancies are all about having the right person in the post - after all, it's not like we're in the world now, is it?

What made it interesting was my ability to see the parish as a complete entity with four separate buildings whilst the person on the other end of the line see one!  Still, it was fun to talk about a place where the churches work together so well and to dwell on a fantastic past (Capital city of Mercia you know) and an equally promising future. The web presence is A work in progress - but better than it was (I hope).

So here we are - just a few days and the applications will be in and the sifting will be done - wonder who else might pop in, for it's always fun when someone appears and says they're thinking of moving in and then starts asking about ASA, Parish Share and the like - you know, the stuff you usually ask when thinking of joining a church :-) or telephones and asks about the job (been from same college or friend of a friend so far).

Exciting times ahead :-)

It's not promotion!

I've been running as the acting Vicar of the parish for six months now and it's generally been a time of challenge, joy and great blessing. To act as Vicar in a parish of four church buildings, and especially doing services in the marvellous centrepiece of the parish that is St Editha's, has been a one of the high spots of my ministry life. The blessing of Christmas and the many carol services and, of course, the midnight service - the challenge of having produced some twelve services to see me reach Easter Sunday evening (where at 6:30 we will have our final communion of the day) - the joy of being around so many people whom I see as friends and family rather than parishioners.

Yes, it's been a great six months.  BUT (has to be one doesn't there?)

I have had so many people who assume that 'promotion' into the Vicar's post permanently is something that should just happen as a fait accompli. The more I speak of finding the 'right person' the more people say, 'It's you!' and when play a game of (intellectual and emotional) seesaw. 'I'm looking for God's idea not good ideas,' I protest, but some will not hear of it.

As a minister of the Gospel, one of the greatest challenges when it comes to moving into a new ministry role is to know that you are the right person for that job (and that it is the right job for you and your family too). This is of paramount importance for to be the wrong person is to damage the work of God (and perhaps the members too) in that place, perhaps fatally!

So, to the many who have engaged me regarding the vacancy - first and foremost - Thank You for your interest and encouragement, it is always welcome, can I ask that you pray for the right person to take up that role. For as psalm 127 rightly states: 'Unless the Lord builds the house the labourers labour in vain.'

one of my favourite images

For those of you who don't know the parish of Tamworth and St Editha's, the parish church, take a look at the new presence (www.stedithas.org.uk)* and perhaps think about paying the town of Tamworth a visit - it is a fantastic town with a great history and a great future too.

And please, pray for the search for a new Vicar that the right person might be found and thank you for the support and encouragement :-)

Thanks

*I know there are still some glitches and some of the old site exists, I haven't quite finished writing it all yet (someone said Easter's coming!)

Cleric or Pub Landlord?

There's not a great deal between them really!

So said someone I was chatting to today and you know what - As the conversation progressed the 'I think they might be onto something' light came on and I began to think and this has turned into the quick checklist (feel free to add and/or suggest other categories and areas) which I include for you consideration here:

Now I have been careful not to enter text into the boxes above (in case you'd like to use it yourself) but here are a few of the comments I've had with it thus far make me think that we're not perhaps as good as many of the pub landlords) as they include:

'Quick to serve drink and nibbles' - takes our Vicar 45 minutes!'

'Nobody knows where to find him/her - why do you think they're known as 'the Pimpernel' or 'Lord Lucan'?'

'Never leaves the vicarage - easy to find them - harder to get to spend time with them!'

'Wouldn't know - not one of their inner circle.'

'Never has an opinion - a permanent 'fence sitter.'

I came to realise that we (clergy) do need to have the skills that make for a good pub Landlord and if we don't, perhaps we need to look at our customer facing skills. Pubs that struggle do so because of the 'look and feel' of the pub and the ethos that the Landlord creates.

Community pubs thrive whilst those that fail to attract, welcome and keep clientele are destined to follow the trend which sees them become McDonalds, Indian restaurants and the like (although with churches it's carpet warehouses, heritage centres and the like). There is, at many levels, no difference with churches and those who act as 'mine host' in them.

Now, as with all parallels, there are sure to be inconsistencies and errors and yet I think there might be some value in comparing the two roles and the way their premises operate. Who knows, it might just shed some light and help us to modify the way we do business.

let's hope so :-)

WWI poets - Wilfred Owen

4th August 2014 is the centenary of the beginning of the 1914-18 conflict.

Some people I have spoken to are thinking that this is it but in fact the four years, three months and eight days (or 223 weeks) that we cover from the first act of commemoration through the many (some one hundred and fifty) battles trough to the final act of thanks (and then a celebration for that war's end) on Armistice Day.

As I began to focus on what this marathon will mean for me I was led back to Wilfred Owen's poem:

'Anthem For Doomed Youth'
What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?
Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle
Can patter out their hasty orisons.
No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells;
Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,
The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;
And bugles calling for them from sad shires.
What candles may be held to speed them all?
Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes
Shall shine the holy glimmers of good-byes.
The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall;
Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,
And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.


Here in Tamworth we have a former Vicar in the form of Morris Berkeley Peel who died 'tending the wounded' in May 1917 to think about (plus a wall full of men from our community who marched away never to return).

What about where you are?

Those 'Whoops Vicar' moments

As often happens when you get a collection of clergy (is that a 'collect' I wonder?) stories of things that have happened to, and been done by, those in a Church setting come to the fore.

The last month has seen some quite amusing little tales, some of which I am sure are almost up there in the urban myth category and others are just plain understandable, believable (often because we've been there or thereabouts) and funny. Here's a couple of them:

I loved the story of the visiting priest who having been given a pretty ghastly mince pie with his, as ever, insipid and tepid tea used his usual tack of 'dropping' the offending culinary disaster down the side of the chair in the knowledge that the resident dog would hoover it up and cover his transgression. A few days after the visit our heroic cleric met a mutual friend who told him how sad the visited lady was that the dog had died a couple of weeks before! To date the bereaved and culinary-challenged parishioner hasn't mentioned the mince pie but be assured it hangs over his head a la Damocles' sword!

Before Christmas, during a particularly bad spell of rain, a certain cleric was engaged in an interment in the sloping corner of the graveyard and the family had chosen to bear the coffin. As the minister led the way to the graveside one of the family slipped on the wet and muddy ground and fell causing the others to take the weight, momentarily, and then lose the coffin! The result was that the coffin passed the cleric and, via a headstone or two, ended up with a 'hole in one' which caused the comment, "He never managed that when he was on the course," and tension broken, a round of laughter. Not sure about this but I can believe it as I've had one of the undertaker's men, chickens, and a handbag in with the coffin (did I ever tell you about the large woman?). Either way the image and the responses ate attractive!

Who ever said being a Vicar was boring?

Pax