Ordained by God

 Jenny and I met and became friends in our first week at Cambridge.  One thing we had in common was an interest in matters spiritual.  Within a term, we had both committed to Christianity.  The slightly older student who led us to the Lord later moved on to devote herself to Feng Shui, but we have both stayed on the path.

We live in different parts of the country now and see each other together with our respective families at the annual Greenbelt festival, capturing a freeze-frame vision of one another’s lives.

 

Jenny has grown via a number of roles to flower at last as a priest in the church of England and her ordination was this Saturday near Manchester.

It was very important to be there but also a really long way to travel. 

With Annabel (the erstwhile bridesmaid of both Jenny and I) riding shotgun, Nigel drove us all three hours each way. (I did offer, but he prefers to drive.)

It was a great service with the sermon delivered, confusingly, by an arch deacon whose surname was Bishop. Apparently he is soon to become a bishop. Bishop Bishop.

The sermon was encouraging, the hymns excellent, and the church welcoming. But the thing that most justified our long drive was the beam on Jenny's face.

And it's a smile which will go on to bless the lucky church at Bollington where she is to be curate.

Thank Heavens for Churches

 Last week, the most beautiful thing I saw was in a church.  It was Sarrat Flower Festival and the ancient church was glowing with fragrant dewy arrangements, each representing a saint.

Last week, the funniest thing I heard was in a church. Sue was being ordained as a priest in Aylesbury.  A senior priest issued a cautionary tale to the new ordinands.  She had been visiting an old lady and had helped herself to the little dish of peanuts on the old lady’s coffee table. At length she realised she had eaten all of them.  Guilt-stricken, she bought her another bag.  The old lady’s response: “Oh you needn’t have bothered, Vicar.  I don’t like peanuts.  That’s why, when my son gives me a box of chocolate peanuts, I just suck the coating off, and put them in this little dish.”

Last week, the most inspiring thing I heard was in a church.  Kath was preaching at St Luke’s.  She reminded us of the brilliant rainbow which had lit up our neighbourhood the night before.  When God blessed us it felt like that.  However, just like the rainbow, the memory would fade.  But that did not mean we had never been blessed.  Just like the rainbow, it had really happened.  We must try to hold on to remembrance of glory.

And in each of those places, a volunteer was manning the tea urn and offered me a cuppa afterwards.

Thank Heavens for our churches – still at the heart of our communities.