Virtual Methodist

Two Christmases ago I got a linocraft kit from Sally as a present. I suspect it is another way of her keeping me in the attic during my time off! Since then I have, from time to time produced various prints. I am even less assured in my printing endeavours than I am in my poetic ones. In both I am, at best, an enthusiastic amateur, or as Stephen Fry's father apparently described him, a "pasticheur". That is very much the case with the image here which is based directly on an “African Madonna” by Hennie Niemann Jnr. I created it last year over my Christmas break for use as a Christmas card this year and using some tools sent to me and advice given to me by a Bedlam Theatre friend and skilled print artist Matt Barrell from London, when producing it. Little did I know that by the time that this Christmas came, he would have died. So I have entitled it "Madonna for Matt." But events in the media over recent weeks including Jeremy Clarkson's appalling column, Ali...

Back in March a friend posted of their frustration at having to cancel their attendance at Knock for the Feast of the Annunciation because of the lockdowns at the time. Now here we are in Advent, teetering on the edge of another possible lockdown, and over recent days I've been reflecting on that event again, as we tend to do at this time of year.  But somewhat sacrilegiously my friend's frustration came to mind yesterday morning resulting in this... Which I think goes well with the appended piece of art, created on the back of an envelope by Michael Cook. Knock! Knock! “Who's there?” “Gabriel.” “Gabriel who?” “The archangel Gabriel, Chief messenger of heaven. I bring you greetings from God - you are highly favoured! The Lord is with you.” “What?” “Do not be afraid! You will conceive and give birth to a son, and will call him Jeshua..." "God bless you." "God saves... He will be great And will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him...

A monologue used as part of today's service for the 4th Sunday in Advent in Grosvenor Hall. Not sure whether I have blogged it before, but whether I have or not, here it is... He who was there when the universe was formed… took form inside my womb… He who is the source of all good gifts suckled at my breast… He who walked in the Garden of Eden… I taught to walk as a toddler… He who carved the commandments on tablets of stone with his finger, learned them from me at the kitchen table… He who inspired the psalmists learned their songs on my knee… It was amazing… I saw the son of God grow into a man… I know every mother thinks that their child is perfect… Particularly their first… But my son was… Why me? I was little more than a child myself when the angel came to me… Yet he said: “Mary you have been singled out by God. You are going to have a child!” “But that's not possible,” I said “I'm a virgin!” "Nothing is impossible with God!" He said... “Just...

Could there be a more appropriate story for advent? The wife of the second in line to the British throne is going to have a child, and, because of agreement over changes in the law of succession whether the child is a boy or a girl they will, all things being equal, inherit their father's throne... The news media on this side of the Atlantic has gone potty over the news, and to judge by the magazine cover on the left, I suspect it will get a fair amount of coverage in our former New World colony... And whilst I am happy for the royal couple and hope that Kate feels better soon, I doubt that I will read much of what the media has to say about the progress of her pregnancy in the months to come (just as I gave their nuptials a by-ball)...  But the great joy around the world that has greeted the announcement of Kate's pregnancy made me think of the contrasts with an announcement made to a frightened young girl in Nazareth 2000 years ago... Could there be a more appropr...

Yesterday I posted Applecart's superb version of the Annunciation. Later that morning, I and a heavily pregnant friend went to share in a service for an Advent Flower Festival in Seymour Street Methodist in Lisburn... She performed my take on the same story. It's a reblog, but I hope it's worth a second outing: What a dream! No... No... It wasn't a dream... I wasn't even asleep... Or if it was a dream then it was more real than anything else I've ever known! I could smell the light and feel every sound. And no, I wasn't drunk! It was the morning time. I was at home... My mother's house... and I was staring out the window, aware of the bright summer sun streaming in, warming my face. Then I became aware of the sunlight getting brighter and it seemed as if the very light itself grew arms and legs and sprouted wings. I thought it was my eyes playing tricks with me. But then the light stepped through the window and filled the room. It was blindingly bright...

Last year the Nativity Factor got quite a lot of coverage in the media... I wonder whether it will do as well this year? Certainly from my first look at an entry it deserves to. It is an offering from Applecart looking at the Annunciation in a slightly different way: Shalom

Over the next week the lectionary shifts its focus from John the Baptist to Mary, the young, unmarried, mother of Jesus... I'm conducting a few services in the next week that focus on her and the "Annunciation" of her impending pregnancy... And in them I'll be using probably the first monologue I ever wrote... written way back in 1995 for my friend Diane Petherick (as she was then) to deliver at a Christmas show we had "conceived" called "Christmas Craic!" It was subsequently filmed for UTV, but I didn't get to direct it and (in my not so humble opinion) it was rubbish. I thought I had posted it here previously... but for some reason I haven't... I now correct that omission... What a dream! No... No... It wasn't a dream... I wasn't even asleep... Or if it was a dream then it was more real than anything else I've ever known! I could smell the light and feel every sound. And no, I wasn't drunk! It was the morning time. I was a...

I’m no dreamer… not like my namesake, the son of Jacob, and friend of Pharaoh. I work with nails and wood, things you can touch and shape and hit with a hammer. And I did a lot of that when Mary first told me. I couldn’t believe it… How could she do that? Who was the father? All she would say was it was nothing to do with her, The baby was conceived by the Holy Spirit, ordained by God himself. Well I’ve heard some excuses in my time… “Who do you think I am – a fool born yesterday!?” But she seemed so genuine… so innocent… And, I thought… so naïve… “Who has taken advantage of you? Who?” I asked… But she named no-one… So I planned to drop the engagement quietly, leave it to her parents to ship her off to some relatives to have the baby… But I knew the news would get out… the shame would stick… To me as to her… And I took my frustrations out on the wood in my workshop… But then, I had that dream… I hadn’t been sleeping at all… It was my first decent night’s sleep and I was annoyed to be r...