GadgetVicar

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)

Pray Also For Me....

Last week, I was pole-axed by some kind of flu, which was ironic given that I was due to get a flu jab on Thursday. Coughing, sneezing, sore limbs, upset stomach and exhaustion have marked life. I felt unable to do anything, whether that was work, reading or even watching much telly.

A saint came round with health supplies, including enough fruit to keep my five-a-day level going for a few weeks. But the thing that meant more than anything else was when he asked if he could pray for me. Which reminded me that I (and I suspect most of us) don't ask for prayer often enough. Yes, we want tender-loving care and a listening ear for our tales of woe, but how often do we ask one another to pray? It's way too personal, implies a dependence on God and reminds us that the trials we face may well have a spiritual component. If it was good enough for the first church leaders, I guess it should be good enough for me too.

Pray also for me, that whenever I open my mouth, words may be given me so that I will fearlessly make known the mystery of the gospel, for which I am an ambassador in chains. Pray that I may declare it fearlessly, as I should. Ephesians 6:19-20

The Sick Kid

Following his hospitalisation, GV Boy is confined to bed at home, and is not to move around very much. In fact, he is supposed to lie on his stomach to allow the open wound to heal. I get to serve his every need while instructing him on how to be a good patient.

Caring for one's children doesn't get any easier once they are adults.

Much Pain, A Little Gain & the Beautiful Game

Very early Friday am: GV Boy awakens me. He is in excruciating pain. Long story short: by way of NHS 24, our GP and A & E, he ends up in hospital having surgery on an abscess. He's out today, having had the whole thing cleaned out. Not nice.

In the midst of all that, I managed to fit in the first onsite meeting with the contractors for Building for the Future. I can't quite believe we've reached this stage. This time next year the new facilities should be completed.

Last night, I had the privilege of speaking at the rather excellent dedication service for the new season of the Strathclyde Evangelical Churches Football League. Darren had the vision and did a brilliant job of organising the whole thing, the President and Secretary of the Scottish Amateur Football Association did a very entertaining Q & A, a St Silas' band led the worship songs and one hundred and fifty or so footballers turned up!

Don't Panic!

So what's the score? Do we distribute in both kinds at communion or not? The reason I ask is that different congregations seem to be taking different approaches.

At Cathy Wilson's profession of vows (congratulations on entering the novitiate of the Order of the Holy Paraclete!) at All Saints, Jordanhill,  yesterday the congregation received the bread only and at Old St Paul's in Edinburgh they seem to be following the same practice, supposedly under instruction from the bishops of the Scottish Episcopal Church. However some of are not so sure that their instructions are clear enough to take that course of action just yet.

We'll up our hygiene standards tomorrow with the discrete use of 60%+ alcohol rubs, discouraging intinction and receiving in one kind only if people prefer that option. The Peace will be shared.

Here's some further help in the face of potential disaster :

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

The Pandemic & The Eucharist

No, it's not the title of my forthcoming apocalyptic blockbuster book! Having a swine flu advisor in the family and having received some advice from the powers-that-be on taking communion in the face of the pandemic, it seems we will have to consider how we receive the sacrament. Of course, it only arises if members of the congregation are infected, so at this stage there is no need to panic. It's good to think these things through carefully, without resorting to knee-jerk reactions.

The options are:

Continue as normal with the common cup, but the celebrant uses some alcohol-based handwash.

Take by intinction (dunk the bread in th wine, for those who don't know). This can cause more problems because of the risk of fingers ending up in the common cup.

Receive in one kind (the bread), with the celebrant receiving both the bread and the wine on behalf of the congregation.

A fourth option suggested to me over coffee this afternoon is to dispense with the common cup altogether, and use "those wee cups the Baptists use". I suspect there will be not a few among the flock who will prefer this method.

Here's another controversial suggestion: not having communion for a wee while. That way, at least everyone will have the same complaint: not partaking rather than worrying about the method we use. I don't think the Lord will mind, and it might just make us seek Him that bit more?

The Dreaded Lurgy Strikes

I was feeling unwell at the Carol Service on Sunday night.  Now the rectory family has succumbed to flu, which is oddly comforting as it means it's not of the 'man' variety. Four out of five of us are housebound with coughs, sore heads sneezes and sniffles. It feels like we are in the opening episode of the BBC's Survivors. Thankfully, none of us has lumps under the arms like the victims in that show, or I really would be worried. I can't remember a time when an illness has hit us all so hard.

In other news, the rectory roof is being replaced, so my head is also enjoying all the thumping up there.

Still, it's giving me lots of time to get my head around 2 Samuel 18.

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.