Month: July 2020

Janet’s much improved and I’m hoping she’ll be back today or tomorrow.

Did some walking this morning, and Valehouse and Bottoms are full up to the spillover points. Rhodeswood was, but is now back to its normal level a couple of feet below. I think even Valehouse was a bit higher although they obviously need to do the dam work safely. Just a couple of little showers, so I think it must now be about two weeks since I did a walk entirely without rain.

Thank you God for the rain.
Even if it can be a nuisance,
it gives life to the earth
and to us,
and we thank you.

Only the tiniest bit of drizzle on the morning walk today, which culminated in a visit to the bakery and the local shop. I think I’m getting the hang of the protocol now – nearly there. SBO, but the shops are just the end of a long chain of other people’s work, growing, transporting, processing.

“A sower went out to sow”,
and we thank you God,
for sowers and reapers,
and bean-counters and fence-menders,
and drivers and washers and cooks,
fork-lift drivers and shelf-stackers
and bakers and sales staff,
househusbands, housewives, waiters,
chefs, bar staff…
…and the millions of other people
who keep us fed.

A walk again this morning, getting back just as it was starting to spit. Being quite early, I got to see a couple of deer. They seemed quite tan compared to the last one I saw…

For no good reason, I supposed they were a doe and child.

At the rising of the morning,
when the farmer goes out for a day’s work
with hope in her heart,
we shall praise you.
Although she knows the score, the risks,
seed that doesn’t grow, floods, drought, glut, famine,
she goes to work anyway.
God give us all that hope;
for somewhere, somewhen,
in ways we do not yet know,
our efforts will yield a harvest;
and on that day, and today,
we shall praise you.

Next Sunday’s Lectionary includes the parable of the sower. For most of my working life, including my time as a scientist, I’ve found it hard to know if what I’ve been doing has had any effect. I like to be able to see results – I like keeping spreadsheets of how far I’ve walked for example – but that is not an option for many of us. It takes a certain kind of character to plug away anyway – and at the same time keep one’s methods under review. Anyway, this parable is about a measurable harvest. There’s no suggestion that the sower was wrong to sow seed on the unproductive ground. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t – that’s just the way it goes. (That wouldn’t be a very good idea for today’s evidence-based farmer though).

As Christians, often we find that we sow and someone else reaps. I’ve done various bits of workplace chaplaincy, and I sometimes hear stories from people of how clergy have offended or mistreated them. The clergy themselves probably never got to hear of the (unhappy) effect they were having. I suggest that even if there may be no direct consequences for us, we need to display the love of Christ in actions as well as words. Naturally, that’s easier said than done!

Small street walk this morning, in the showeriness. I hope to do another bit later.

Sunshine and showers for the walk this morning, and a stiff wind. The strangely beautiful section was a walk down the deserted A628 between woodlands and fields: I took advantage of a rare closure for roadworks. It was wonderful just to be in that space which is usually so loudly and violently dominated by road vehicles. I made good time, and it felt like countryside, and I could hear the electricity transmission towers singing in the wind.

After that, we went to a zoom service reflecting on a pilgrimage which we had joined for a while. It was beautiful and moving and inspiring. Yes, the zoom thing really can work. I don’t know if it’s the numbers, or if 10-11 UK time on a Sunday morning is busy for the servers, but like the other Sunday morning zooms I have been to, there were a few slow-downs. It didn’t matter though: the service was brilliant. And you can be ‘anywhere’. I was going to tell people I’d been to a service in Derbyshire until I remembered that I too was in Derbyshire, just about … but this was the other side of Derbyshire – the part that’s nearer Derby than Manchester.

A couple of half-remembered snippets from recent news broadcasts… One is the tragic mudslide in Myanmar, in which over 100 died. They were poor people scrabbling around in mine waste for gemstones. The other is that care homes in the UK were more likely to get COVID outbreaks if staff were from agencies or didn’t have adequate sick pay. There’s a connection between these two: poverty isn’t just grim – it makes you take risks. If the choice is between risk-taking behaviour and not having any bread on the table, then you’ll take risks. This is the profit motive at its most red in tooth and claw. This may also explain the number of men I’ve seen all through this outbreak who have suspiciously recent haircuts. Barbers need to survive.

This is not right. We were made for something better than a desperate struggle for survival. “Blessed are the poor” says Jesus (apologies for the repetition): therefore we need to pray even more than ever, Jesus’ prayer… “…your will be done, your kingdom come, on earth as in heaven…”

I’ve spent quite a lot of time recently making up prayers to go with places we’ve been. But when I’m actually praying myself, and when I’m stuck (which is quite often), I go back to the Lord’s Prayer, the most fundamental of all Christian prayers.

It wasn’t raining when I set off this morning, though that didn’t last. The cloud was not too low. Valehouse Reservoir may be gaining a bit now.

I’m not looking forward to tomorrow. Wouldn’t a weekday be a better day to start with the pubs, and iron out the problems? Besides which, why choose that date – who wants to remember a day of national humiliation? I find myself wishing Angela Merkel, or Nicola Sturgeon, or Jacinda Ardern were in charge of my country (notice any connection?).

We’re getting more points for the Prayers for Places website – we can get the points in then go back over the prayers later to improve them. This is my lockdown project.

God save the souls of all
the bored children, bored adults,
who are struggling with confinement;
and people for whom confinement
is normal life.
God protect those who have to mingle to do essential tasks,
and all who struggle with the discipline
of keeping their distance.

This morning’s walk took me west for a change, down past the tip and a little bit further in the direction of Broadbottom. The recycling centre has been rearranged so that drivers are less likely to cross over when visiting the different skips with their stuff. There’s a lot of hard work and disruption of routines gone into making all sorts of businesses and operations COVID-safe. Many people have lost jobs, lost income, had to put up with major changes to their lives. Yet I have an impression (misleading maybe) that there’s a few who aren’t all that bothered – “I’m young, it’s not going to hurt me, so I don’t care.” Anyway, we’re all in this together – so long as our eyesight doesn’t need testing.

Living God,
in the long, slow movement back to normality,
with the virus still widespread and a constant threat,
we pray for patience to keep on
preventing its spread,
to keep on being careful,
to keep on respecting others
in their vulnerability.
Lord, in your mercy
hear our prayer.

Here it comes now. Also there were dry intervals on this morning’s walk. When the rain came though, it was enough to rattle audibly the leaves above my head. The wind is gentle. I am glad there are ways I can go which are quiet, but broad enough to pass people at 2m plus.

In Sunday’s Lectionary, Matthew 11:16-19, it seems that Jesus can’t win. People are eternally dissatisfied. This must be quite a common experience for parents, teachers, bosses, politicians. We moan about dishonesty, but in the end we can’t take too much honesty, and we’d rather be looked after by someone who’ll tickle our ears.

God we pray for integrity,
honesty, care, justice, mercy
to be in our heads whenever
we make our cross on the ballot paper.
We confess that we have sometimes been
selfish in our decisions.
God forgive us.