Bob Warwicker's blog

A walk to the old quarry this morning, followed by zoom church. The walk wasn’t particularly pretty, it being a gloomy morning with some bits of rain and a wind that was still blustery, and with this to negotiate on the path up…

…but it was great just to be there anyway, and fun walking…

…and this lifted my heart on the outwards walk…

I like the wind, gloom and dampness, but they conspire to make it harder to take pictures – the gloom means a longer exposure and the phone is less forgiving of a shaking hand, and the wind makes your hand shake more anyway, and the dampness may also cause mistiness, either because of direct exposure or because everything’s inside a sweaty cagoule.

Creator God, we praise you
for the gloom and drizzle,
that annoying, inseparable part
of your wonderful universe.

My old Saturday routine was to walk up the Trail and visit the shops on the way back. Today I tried something similar, though outward by a different route, and trying to minimise the number of shops (not so successful).

It was a lovely early morning of sunshine and showers. But because I needed the pharmacy to be open, I went a bit later and there were already lots of people about on a fair Saturday morning. When I got to Tesco (I was hoping not to have to), there were quite a few people in, and the juice area was blocked by shelf stacking operations, as it has been several times before. The juice is next to the booze, and I reckon they must be selling huge amounts of alcohol. I wouldn’t fancy being cooped up at home with someone who’s been drinking a lot.

God, we pray for people
stuck at home with men
who are drunk, violent or abusive.
May they find the safety
and fair treatment they deserve.

And it troubles us to know
that this is not far from any one of us,
down our street, in our church family,
in the people at work or the Post Office queue.
God, have mercy.

From the Lectionary for Sunday, “Discipline yourselves, keep alert. Like a roaring lion your adversary the devil prowls around, looking for someone to devour.” (1 Peter 5:8).

All well and good – but be very careful about equating anyone with the ‘Adversary’. Often the threats lie inside ourselves, or in our social selves. You may get a lot of votes by blaming China or the Democrats, or the scientists, or anyone ‘Other’. But the Adversary is often in my head or yours. And as for keeping alert, what are we supposed to keep alert for? ( — I know – but it’s my language for me to do what I like with.) At least the writer of this Epistle makes an attempt to describe what to watch out for.

But I don’t know what to watch for now. It can’t be the viruses, they are too small and you can’t see them coming. Should we be alert to the rising cough or sneeze inside so we can get the tissue out in time? Should we be focused on keeping our distance? Should we watch out for people who look as if they’ve had a haircut recently and give them an extra wide berth? Should we be alert for wiffle-waffle?

God of all the universe,
help us to be steadfast in our faith,
cleaving to you
despite stress and uncertainty.

The shop was closed when I went this morning. I think I’ll try again later, maybe when it starts raining.

It’s ascension day, and mountains in the cloud are mysterious places. Also they are often wet, and dangerous, and confusing, and a bit downheartening, until the cloud moves away – and that can be amazing. As anyone who has driven over the Pennines will know, cloud and fog are the same thing, really – it’s all about location.

Also, Jesus is around, for you and for me.

It has started raining now, but too soon to try Tesco again.

Living God,
as we walk on through the cloud,
the fog of uncertainty,
we reach out in the gloom
for the hand of Christ.
Guide us, we pray;
guide this world,
show us, through the mist of confusion,
and the smokescreens of deceit,
where justice lies,
and how to make people matter
more than money.

I found a map server which has maps from the mid 20th century (about 1954, because half the houses around where I was brought up are still unbuilt). It comes from ‘National Library of Scotland Historic Maps’ and covers all of Britain (not UK). I can follow old railways that don’t exist any more, and remember a time when footpaths were in black. I remember when the Ordnance Survey first started using colours for rights of way, and how daring and new and exciting I thought it was.

After passing the old hillfort at Mouselow, I took my first walk through a park this morning, and the park was really looking good.

Enough of the past. We must think of the future and start learning lessons now from this pandemic: it won’t be the last.

Overnight my server’s started being stricter with PHP, and it’s found out some of the inadequacies of my coding. So a few things to change this morning, and a bit of tangled logic to disentangle. That’s the problem with programs that ‘just growed’.

Living God, walk with us
when we walk through the shadows,
hold us by the hand
and do not go far from us.

Sunday’s Lectionary contains a piece from John’s Gospel about Jesus glorifying the Father and the Father glorifying Jesus. I guess that ‘glory’ means different things to different people, from ‘Cup Glory’ (not a lot of that this year, sadly), to the glory of an army that’s killed a lot of its enemies, to the glories of nature. For me, it makes me think of a lot of gold-y stuff. But here in the gospel, there’s death, there’s resurrection, there’s the ‘knowing’ between Jesus and the Father and the Spirit of God which is how we can say there is ‘one God’. Jesus has also spoken to his disciples about joining in that ‘knowing’. We can join in with that glorious thing. And when it gets to this point I’m losing it with some of those other images of glory. The ‘victor in battle’ isn’t working any more. Maybe a better word is ‘love’. ‘Love’ can bring glory into real life. It can bring glory into the things we do and the way we treat one another.

Today it rained for short while while I was out for my ‘exercise’. Since I was under trees at the time, I knew it more in the sound than in the wetness. It was good to be rained on.

People as old as I am may remember a radio show called ‘The Goon Show’. There’s a character called Eccles. And someone asks him “what are you doing here?” And he replies, “Everybody’s got to be somewhere”. And the amazing thing about the incarnation of God in Jesus is that he is ‘somewhere’. And that ‘somewhere’ was a male Jewish person in first century Palestine.
When it comes to the Ascension of Jesus, I can’t do better than what I once heard someone say; “Jesus ascended into the everywhere”. That ‘somewhere’ is now ‘everywhere’ and ‘all time’ and free of all bonds of particularity, and here for me, and there for you.

Meanwhile, it’s a fair morning and I’m looking forward to a walk of reasonable length with Janet.

A decent day by the look of it, today. I’ve been indoors, catching up with computer stuff and zooming to worship, which is good. But the delay with the sound means hymn singing is not possible.

God of love,
may the community of Christ
always reflect the love of Christ.

It’s grey and quiet, I found not many people around when I went to the shop. Quite pleasant and calming really.

It seems there’s a few nations trying to steal a march on their competitors by being very liberal about COVID restrictions. The human consequences aren’t very pretty.

God of love, we pray for everyone
whose life has been wrecked by this virus.
We pray for healing of the body, mind and spirit,
and healing in our communal life.
May Jesus Christ be present among us
to help and to heal.

A gentle morning today, with low cloud on the sides of the valley, that came and went. I felt permitted to go a bit further and almost got to Crowden.

It’s an ill wind that blows nobody any good, and it was good to see someone doing well out of Coronavirus. The moors are almost empty of visitors, and it’s been the ideal opportunity for shooting estates to get rid of some of those pesky birds of prey. Thank you BBC for that information.

For the cry of the curlew
and the morning sun,
we thank you, O God.