Month: October 2020

Very brief appearance of a cloud in the dale a few minutes before dawn…

Our local (small) branch of a national supermarket chain has recently reorganised its shelves. Now it’s full of people bumping into each other, not knowing where stuff is. When the pandemic enquiry comes, so we can learn from our mistakes, one minor quick hit would be to freeze supermarket layouts for the duration. There will be another pandemic. We’ve had near misses with SARS and MERS – it can’t be long in our connected world before another virus comes along that hits the sweet spot combining transmissibility and lethality.

Now South Yorkshire is to go into the top tier. We’re 1100 yards from Tameside (Manchester) one way and 7 miles from Barnsley and Sheffield (South Yorkshire) the other way. Epidemics move quickly, and we have to respond quickly. It’s hard to live with rules that change quickly, especially from a government that doesn’t inspire trust, but it’s got to be done.

Also from a conversation I had yesterday, “Jesus rows from the dead.” … well I suppose a lot of cultures have used river metaphors for death.

Also, from the Lectionary, “it’s time to go”. In the Deuteronomy reading, Moses sees the promised land, but dies before he can enter it with his people. It reminds me of Martin Luther King saying he’d seen the promised land.

There are jobs, callings, pieces of work, that you get so much in to, that you never want to stop, you never want to go. Sometimes we need the grace to say, “that’s it, I’ve done what I can, now is the time to stop.” I retired nearly two years ago, but my due date will be next month. I think even if I were going to go next month, I’d still think I had unfinished business – or maybe even unstarted business. It can be hard to go.

Living God, we cling to you
through changing times.
We look for ever-new ways
to express your eternal love.

It’s not a particularly clear picture, but the trees along the Derwent near Matlock still bear the signs of 2019’s tragic floods. Hay and strips of black plastic bale covering decorate the trees. With the river in a relatively friendly mood today, it was hard to believe that the waters could ever have got that high. The riverside path in that area shows signs of damage, and there’s a barrier to discourage walkers until the council can scrape together enough of its thinly stretched resources to fix the path. Janet completed another section of the Derwent Valley Heritage Way today. Woot!

The past leaves its mark:
we pray for people who have
post-traumatic stress disorder,
and for those who try to help them get better.
God give healing, we pray,
even when it seems to be against the odds.
And we pray for peace and justice,
and an end to terror,
in every part of the world where today,
new deposits of trauma are being laid down.

I speculated about this. I guess someone put it there in the hope that its owner might return, notice it and reclaim it. But what was in it? I wasn’t minded to look. It could have been blackberries, lunch, dogsh*t, baby essentials, soiled nappies, car keys, rose hips, anything really. “Fish, bananas, old pyjamas, mutton, beef and trout.”

In next Sunday’s Lectionary, Jesus is being tricky again, poking away at the inconsistencies of the religious establishment of the time.

Janet got a Personal Best time yesterday for one of our local walks. We were both quite chuffed.

God of love and life,
bring colour to our gloom, we pray.

Led worship today for the first time in a year and nine months. Slightly weird, with COVID restrictions, and at a not-URC. I was glad to have done it: I hope it was helpful.

It’s cloudy and dry, not too cold, not too hot; unexceptionable weather. I’ll do a walk later.

For knee management reasons, just a short walk before some food shopping. Grey, but dry where I was (although a little drizzle or something was visible a couple of miles away).

For obvious reasons, the gospels don’t include much about the ordinary bits of Jesus’ life, any more than you’d see a boring passage of play on MOTD. But one of the features of Jesus’ life is seeing the work of God even in what are commonly thought to be ordinary activities of life, like Jesus’ meal with his disciples.

God of endless love,
help us to walk with Christ
in the high places,
in the low places,
and on the flat stretches.

Another Derwent day – under mostly grey skies this time. The sandwich-bearer’s end of the walk was much easier this time, but my knee is not right.

This isn’t my house, and I’m kinda glad it isn’t…

The most partisan government of recent years is not the right one to inspire that trust from people which is necessary in difficult times. Also, how do you tell the difference between a libertarian and an anarchist? It’s a serious question.

A pleasant enough day today and Janet did the top section of the Derwent Valley Heritage way, with me on chauffeur and sandwich duty. It was good autumn walking.

Isolated verse from the Lectionary, Isaiah 45:4; “For the sake of my servant Jacob, and Israel my chosen, I call you by your name, I surname you, though you do not know me.” So maybe anything is possible!

Living God, as this disease picks away
at the rifts in our society,
as the poor get less help than the rich did,
as we wish we could forget the whole thing,
God heal our divisions, forgive us,
help us to find our integrity again
and bring us together.

Another ordinary day. Took the car in for MOT this morning, so I’m hoping there won’t be anything too remarkable about the day. Walked some of the same paths I did yesterday, but none of the spectacular mists today – altogether much more mundane.

In Sunday’s Old Testament reading, we read about Moses’ bargaining with God. This kind of inner dialogue is quite slippery to understand, but one of the things that comes across to me is Moses’ doubts and need for assurance. Someone who may also have experienced God’s presence (probably aided by a head injury) was Harriet Tubman, nicknamed ‘Moses’, who conducted 70 enslaved people to freedom. I mentioned the film about her on 11th October. She couldn’t have done what she did without experiencing fear and doubt. But she overcame those things.

Tomorrow our area enters Tier 2 of COVID restrictions, the first time we come into extra measures. Is there a stigma to this? It’s not affecting us personally anyway – we haven’t been meeting other people in our homes anyway. How about changing the furlough scheme for those under the greatest restrictions: 100% up to the minimum hourly rate and 50% above that? Anyway…

Living God, give healing, we pray.
Heal our bodies of this virus.
Heal our communities of the divisions this has uncovered.
Save us from the age-old story that
it’s the poor who bear the greatest burden.

Out fairly early this morning, mists coming and going, and a hammock moon high in the sky. It wasn’t quite level, as I’d have to be nearer the equator for that. It was like a disembodied smile, which was a little disturbing, as smiles really need faces. The lights on the A628 shone through a slot in the mist. Up near the old quarry near Rhodeswood, the mist looked like a sea, with headlands poking into it and the isles of Mouselow and Werneth Low. As I neared the quarry, the sun was starting to warm things up, and an inconsistent breeze started. Coming back down, I could see that sudden upcurrents were plucking skeins of mist high into the air, where they dissipated. As the breeze came, I was hoping to see some Kelvin-Helmholtz waves, although it was a bit too chaotic for anything to be very clear – there were one or two formations that looked a bit like breaking waves. In threequarters of an hour, the mist had gone and it was beautifully sunny. Soon after that, the rain came.

PS just trying out the gallery option in WordPress. It appears you have to right click on an image and choose ‘open in new tab’ if you want to see it individually…

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