Virtual Methodist

A family memory. Every Saturday until I left home, apart from a few weeks each summer when soup vegetables were unobtainable in the greengrocers, my mum made a vast vat of soup which fed all-comers, with enough leftover for Sunday lunch when it was even better. It was usually followed by freshly baked scones, which were also lovely, but unlike the soup were not so lovely the next day. Indeed by some strange process they transformed into small indigestible organic rocks.  However, on one Saturday when I was very young, excitement over my older brother's newly purchased motorbike resulted in me getting a bowl of my mum's soup pour down my neck and chest  necessitating a swift trip to the A&E in the arms of my dad, one of only two times I can remember him holding me. But s o many of my teenage Saturday lunchtimes were made up of coming home from rugby to steep in a hot bath, emerging to an equally hot bowl of soup and a house full of family. Beef bone steeped from Friday  Boil

I literally woke up this morning with an upset stomach in the wake of news stories of the knife attack in Southport, followed by shameful rioting, the consistently escalating conflict between Israel and its neighbours, with attacks that in recent days have resulted in the deaths of young people at school and play, sniping in social media over the national identity of 2 gold medal winners in a single day from Northern Ireland, and the continuing controversy and over-reaction to an ill-judged small segment of an over-long Olympic opening pageant.  But at least I'm not a triathlete who may end up with a more significantly upset stomach from swimming in the Seine today, for reasons similar to those that affected the Boat Race in London recently. There are times that I despair of humanity and our willingness to work together to address not only our differences but also the existential threats that we all face... The title is drawn from the ancient Greek tradition of a truce or "lay

"Every day's a school day."  That glib cliché holds within it a truth that sits at the core of who I am. I love learning things. Facts... I don't retain them like I used to but my mind pick ups useless facts like a flypaper collects dipterans. I do also pick up a few useful facts along the way too, but they're not so much fun... many of these are historical dates, characters, events, etc  Connections... partly because of how my mind works, many of these facts are woven into a web of unlikely connections and associations that cross a range of disciplines, only some of which I have any competence in...  People... I am not great in social settings with people I don't know, unless there are enough of them for me to hide in the crowd or treat as an audience, but it's great when I do encounter new people with interesting stories or inspiring skills and talents.  A sub-set of "new people" are those that I haven't encountered in person, b

A few months ago, at a particularly difficult time, I posted the first version of the  piece below... Frankly I'm not in a much better place at present, but given the reminder by Beverly Barbour at conference yesterday about both the certainty and the timeframe of the hope we profess, I have revised it and added a closing verse.  70 years of exile is not long in eternal terms, but for a 58 year old it is chastening. With that in mind the "transformation of the world" for which we work, may not be to our immediate benefit, and unlike Moses, or Martin Luther King Jnr., we may not even see the Promised Land that we ourselves will not enter. But that is why it is not just a matter of hope but also of ‬faith, "the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen" ‭(Hebrews 11:1) and the steadfast love of God on which that hope depends. (Psalm 33: 18 & 22; 130: 7; 147:11). "Hope is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul." Emily

Today the 2024 Annual Conference of the Methodist Church in Ireland comes to an end. One of its last acts will be an act of Commissioning of Probationers to "go out" to minister in various circuit appointments. 30 years ago I was commissioned as a probationer in Thomas Street, Portadown, and a few weeks later Sally and I landed in Glastry and Portadown for our first appointment.  30 years further on it was enormously encouraging and inspiring, in the midst of some difficult and discouraging discussions to be reminded by my Anglican colleague in the joint Church of Ireland/Methodist Chaplaincy at Queens University, Rev Danielle McCullagh, in a pair of Bible studies on Isaiah 61 and Luke 4, of the nature of our calling and the source of our power to do what we are called to do. This included a hugely moving act of symbolic anointing. If we are in any way to contribute to the transformation of the world we must first be transformed ourselves by the anointing of the S

A version of Paul’s prayer for the Church in Ephesus from Ephesians 3:14-21  in two voices, used as part of the Installation of Elaine Barnett as Lay Leader of the Methodist Church in Ireland on Wednesday night. Due credit should go to Eugene Peterson's "Message" and Rob Lacey's "Street Bible." We really need this prayer fulfilled in the business of Methodist Conference today... VOICE 1: I humbly kneel before our heavenly Father,   from whom every family in heaven and on earth is descended. VOICE 2: I pray that, out of his glorious treasure house he may bless you to your core – VOICE 1: That you may be strengthened with his power through his Spirit, as Christ makes his home in your hearts through faith,   VOICE 2: and that you may be rooted deeply in his love. VOICE 1: Indeed I pray that you may have the power to understand, with all God’s people, the breadth and length and height and depth of the love of Christ; VOICE 2: Dimensions which are bey