GadgetVicar

Fair Trade Breakfast

If you are in Glasgow tomorrow (Saturday, 13th March), why not join us at St Silas' from 10am onwards for a Fair Trade breakfast?

Buckfast Code

A bishop of the Scottish Episcopal Church has spoken out against a great moral scourge - Buckfast Tonic Wine. This follows the report that five thousand crimes over the last three years were related to it. One of our congregation regularly shows up at church with a bottle up his voluminous sleeve and he's not averse to getting into a bit of a violent contretemps. He showed up on Sunday night, bottle of Buckie and all. When sober he's a nice man. Drunk, he's nasty. Why are Weegie drunks either all, "Ah luv yoose!" or "Ah'm gonnae kill ye!"?

I see the damage Buckfast does close up and I'm thankful for Bishop Bob Gillies speaking out. As with most things, it's not that Buckfast is in itself bad. It's our ability to abuse it that is the problem and the fact that the Church is facilitating such abuse by producing the wine. I wonder what else the Church says and does that causes others to stumble? (see 1 Corinthians 8:9)

A Grand Day Off

In some great company, I cycled to Loch Lomond yesterday morning. It's a lovely ride, with a few main roads to cross and short on-road section through Dumbarton. On the return, by the time we reached Dumbarton, I was very saddle sore, and opted to catch the train back to Scotstounhill. I remain a wee bit tender following such exertions.

In the evening, I had a dinner date with a beautiful young woman, who will remain nameless for fear of embarrassing her (she is family, in case you are worried!). I had a voucher to use which had been given in February - I just hadn't got round to using it. We dined at Two Fat Ladies West End. Not being in a fish-frame-of-mind, I opted for the estate of Mey fillet steak with hasselback potatoes and a red wine jus and my date went for the roast breast of chicken with tomato and chorizo. Both dishes were beautifully presented, the meat was tender and tasty and the vegetables were perfectly cooked. We loved the antique china dinnerware and individual cutlery (all sourced on Ebay, according to our waitress, Katy). For dessert, we couldn't decide, so ended up having a bit of everything (Two Fats Grand Dessert), which we simply could not finish. Our favourite was the Bramble Cheesecake, which we did manage to eat.

All-in-all, it was a grand day off.

A Sheltered Life - Pub Golf

On a taxi trip for GV Boy late last night, I had the dubious pleasure of watching the Glasgow Tourist Attraction that is "drunken young man spewing his ring" - for about fifty metres in a straight line across George Square. Nice.

Which reminded me of what one of my friends told me he would be doing with his sporting colleagues tonight - Pub Golf.  The idea is to play nine "holes" (pubs) and have a drink at each hole. Each hole has a specific drink attached to it which is then given a par, and the idea is to drink it in the same number of mouthfuls as the par. So a pint of lager might be a par 3 - one drinks it in 3 mouthfuls. My comment was that I think I'd be playing off a handicap of thirty six in that case.

I wonder if the drunken young man had been having a similar round of Pub Golf?

The Pandemic & the Eucharist - A Public Information Film

Ruby Murray

Chicken Tikka Masala is not a product of the mystical east. It's more of a fusion of the east and west (end). Apparently it was invented in the street where St Silas' building is situated - Park Road, Glasgow.

Christmas 2008

Many of the St Silas' congregation leave Glasgow at Christmas. Anyone with an Irish background returned to the homeland. There are so many of them that I've suggested that next year they should hire a bus or two and cut down on the costs.

The absence of so many regulars leaves room for visitors. This is a joy, but it does mean the church is busy with strangers, most of whom are visiting family or friends for the holidays. Nonetheless we had joyful and peaceful services.

After the Christmas morning service, we enjoyed the usual Christmas bash. I experimented with preparing brussel sprouts, chestnuts and bacon and it worked. The parsnips in maple syrup were good too. Both sets of grandparents joined us for the Christmas feast then we drove them all  home in time for a quiet evening.

Santa and friends delivered many wonderful gifts:

Grumpy Old Men: The Secret Diary by Stewart Prebble. I knew of the TV programme, but had never watched it. Having been given the book by a self-described Grumpy Old Git (in fact he operates at Grand Master level), I now discover that I am one too! Should I fight it?

A Sony Digital Reader. Hundreds of books downloaded onto a very slim and attractive gizmo that works beautifully. A surpise birthday/Christmas treat from Ms GV

A new dressing gown in blue which means my ancient green one has been consigned to the recycling.

Yesterday found me speaking and leading at both services, but now I am on a week off. We are staying put and have plans to declutter the study and paint some woodwork. Today has been spent on the long overdue tidying of the back garden. Thirty bags of leaves and other waste. The scaffolding from the re-roof is still up, but it makes for a handy frame for attaching Christmas lights to, so we have joined the ranks of homes now displaying exterior Christmas lights. I hope we're not making someone grumpy with that.

Christmas With Scotland's Other National Drink

Uganda - Day 9 & 10 (Rukungiri to Kampala)

More visits, with a lot of meals.

In the afternoon, I visited the home of Nathan and his extended family. Their small farm grows grapes, eggplant, strawberries, coffee, bananas........in fact, they grow a huge variety of crops, and I sampled just about every one of them. The land is fertile for such diverse crops and it's a vegetarian's heaven.

Several more visits ensued, including my dear friend Kenneth's parents, who seem to have adopted me into their family. Each visit involved sharing testimony of what God had done and was doing in our lives. People were very keen to hear about GAFCON, for they are praying intensely for the Anglican Communion.

In the evening it was off to a secondary school for an assembly. We were late arriving, but the young people were waiting for us. I gave a talk on 'The freedom of the children of God', complete with an invitation to them to join in a Braveheart-style shout of, 'Freedom!', which they joined in with enthusiastically. Medad then shared on the same theme, and a strong response was given, as many young people came forward for prayer. One teacher even came forward and committed his life to Christ.

We enjoyed some soda and boiled eggs at the very jolly headteacher's home, then it was time to be heading home.... to yet another meal. It had been another encouraging day.

In the morning there was time to visit the dean of the North Kigezi diocese, who showed me around and introduced me to the staff of the Compassion International office. This organisation is doing some stunning work all over the world, sponsoring the development of children, and their operation in Rukungiri seemed very well organised.

Medad and I missed our bus to Kampala, so we took a cramped minibus to Mbarara, which stopped anywhere and everywhere. It took four+ hours to get there. We then had to wait for the 'right' bus. there were several buses heading to Kampala, with several of them touting for our business. However it seemed that some of them took forever to reach the capital city (adopting the methodology of the aforementioned minibus and stopping everywhere). Afetr some trial and error, we found where we should wait for the right bus and booked two seats.

Our wait took two hours, then a bus arrived and we got on board. Medad got a seat and I prepared to stand for the rest of the journey. The bus conductor had other ideas, and insisted on moving a young man with no ticket and making me take his seat. Despite my protestations, I was made to sit down. The young man protested to the conductor in Lugandan and I shook his hand apologetically. I guess it e=was the mzungu and dog-collar factors at work.

The lady next of me turned out to a diocesan treasurer's wife, and she told me much about the work of the Mother's Union in Uganda. She wasn't going far and got off at Masaka, which allowed the young man to sit down. We began talking and it was clear he was unwell with a cold and malaria, which made me feel even worse about not giving him a seat. I gave him my apple to eat as a peace-offering, and he proceeded to quiz me about the 'mark of the beast' in the book of Revelation, and whether it would preclude him from trading if he didn't have it on him! Not a question I get every day in Glasgow.

We got to Kampala about 10.30pm and we were met and taken to my hosts at Kyambogo University, Daoudi and Regina. I liked them instantly and we laughed together a lot. After another late night feast and an African wash, I fell into bed exhausted.

Uganda - Day 5 (Sunday @ Kamuganguzi)

A fifteen kilometer drive on the road to Rwanda, led to the church at Kamuganguzi. We were attending the thanksgiving service for Benson and Margaret Mugyenyi. It was to be a long day.

The service was five hours long. I kind of hoped that would get me off having to be in church for the next three Sundays. It began with baptisms, including those of several of Benson's family members. To my memory there were three sermons, including one from myself (half an hour, but another half an hour of interpretation). Francis gave his testimony. He had shared his story in St Silas' a few weeks ago, complete with the unveiling of the spear wound through his stomach. His transformation by, and passion for, God is inspiring. Medad Birungi preached and many responded to the message by coming forward to commit their lives to Christ and to receive prayer. 

There were also four collections, including the normal church collection, one for the building, one for the Mugyenyis, and one that I'm still not sure what its purpose was. People came forward and gave enthusiastically each time.

We then travelled further up the valley to its end, where many gathered to feast. It was a beautiful spot, surrounded by terraced hills.

At one point Benson brought what I can only describe as a giant kebab upon which were various pieces of meat. These turned out to be the heart, lungs, liver and kidneys of the various animals that had died to provide our meal. These are served up to show that the meat wasn't bought at the butcher. I was asked to sample the goods, but declined, not being a fan of animal innards at the best of times. I was assured they were absolutely delicious.

After eating we enjoyed several speeches which celebrated our hosts. Then it was time to descend the narrow track back to our vehicle and return to Kabale.

I watched the exciting Nadal/Federer final at Wimbledon on the TV and Provia provided chips with coleslaw. She'd gone to a great deal of effort to make them following the previous night's disappointment. The least I could do was enjoy them (sans coleslaw, of course).

It had been a tiring but immensely encouraging weekend.