Water Difference!

It's wonderful, sometimes, to encounter the power of blogging. I should moan more often, it seems!

As a result of my last post, Business Stream have been in touch, at last, with the promise that this mess will be sorted out soon. Alleluia! I'm having sleepless nights, as I ponder the fact that if the parish pays this much for water, there will be nothing left for my stipend!

Our parish water usage is minimal, actually. There are no leaks, we've had someone check. Our main water usage is from the Community Hall, where groups meet on a daily basis. Most of these groups are dealing with people with mental health, addiction, and stress issues, and some cannot afford to pay us any kind of rent. Our rental income, therefore, is pretty low. Folk in the parish put more in the plate to keep this sort of ministry going, but it looks as if that's going to be penalised since we therefore go over the income threshold set down by either Business Stream, Scottish Water, or maybe even the Scottish Government!

I'm convinced we should be exempt from charges altogether. It's hard enough running a community oriented parish without being crippled with water bills.

Help and hope is at hand, however, and I'm sure the young man from Business Stream will sort it all out. I'm due a good night's sleep!

Water Sensation!

I think it was about 18 months ago that we first received a water bill in St Augustine's. We have never paid for water before, but Business Stream told us they had installed a meter, whether we wanted one or not. We have now found "our" meter, which is on the street but not outside our property.

After much angst, including an argument about whether or not we should pay for our water or not, we eventually paid over £1000 some three months ago.

We received a message this month that we were due another £6,000 for water. Eek! Have we bought a reservoir or what? Are we paying for the High Street? Sure, we have baptisms, but no full immersion here!

It's all very worrying, and we can get no response from Business Stream that makes any sense.

Apart from everything else, being located in the West of Scotland where rain is the default weather system, it sticks in my craw that we pay for water anyway!

Any comments about which parishes actually pay for their water, and what their annual bills come to?

Parish Retreat

It's the day after the Parish Retreat in Millport, and my head is still spinning. It was a strange retreat really, a retreat that could only be crafted, executed and celebrated by St Augustine's. A retreat with a party in the middle of it, as Revd Anne Tomlinson gently guided us through the topic of "Graced Encounters", with the emphasis on food, feeding, and encountering God in our daily bread, linked into our Eucharistic community where the Bread of Life is at the core of our congregational being. Food..... Preparing, Pondering, Provocative Practice, Partying, Participating.... and a picture of our parish life emerged which was pleasing to the eye, and a comfort to my soul. Hey. We are doing something right here. There's deep Kingdom stuff going on.

There was so much laughter, so much gratitude, not least because two of our number have beaten serious cancer scares in the past months, and at the start of Passion-tide, we presented as a Parish with great Passion. We prayed together, we were silent together, we shared much good food with each other on so many different levels, and shared a joy of living and being alive.

Friday evening's talk was so pertinent to us, as Anne read an extract from one of her books to us:

I came late to Christianity, knocked upside down by a midlife conversion centered around a literal chunk of bread. The immediacy of my conversion experience left me perhaps freakily convinced of the presence of Jesus around me. I hadn’t figured out a neat set of “beliefs,” but discovered a force blowing uncontrollably through the world.

Eating Jesus cracked my world open and made me hunger to keep sharing food with other people. That desire took me to an altar, at St. Gregory of Nyssa Episcopal Church in San Francisco, where I helped break the bread for Holy Communion, then to a food pantry that I set up around the same altar, where we gave away free groceries to anyone who showed up. From all over the city, poor people started to come every Friday to the church—100, 200, 450, 800—and like me, some of them stayed. Soon they began to feed and take care of each other, then run things, then start other pantries. It was my first experience of discovering that regular people could do Jesus’ work. In the thrilling and difficult years after my first communion, I kept learning that my new Christian identity required me to act. .. Time and again, I was going to have to forgive people I was mad at, say I was sorry, be honest when I felt petty, and sit down to eat, as Jesus did, with my betrayers and enemies: the mad, the boring, and the merely unlikeable.

As I got pushed deeper into all these relationships, I started to suspect that the body of Christ was not a metaphor at all. “Because there’s one bread,” as St. Paul, another poleaxed convert, wrote in astonishment, “we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one I began to taste something, see something, touch something which suggested that Jesus’ vision of what we could do was true. “I know this sounds nuts,” I said to an old friend, who’d been shocked at my conversion to a faith I’d mocked, and baffled by my sudden urge to give away pallets of lettuce and cereal. “But, uh, when we’re all together at the Eucharist and at the food pantry, it’s the same thing. Because Jesus is real.”

Jesus is very real in St Aug's, and the parish in San Francisco echoed our own life and practice in a very deep and meaningful way.


There is a sadness though, today, for those who didn't come, and for those who wouldn't come on this weekend. They missed out greatly on a wonderful experience, and one which will be remembered and treasured by many for years to come.


The RW and I lit a candle for every one of us, those present and those missing, as we rather shamedly wolfed down pizza last night, and gave thanks to God for allowing us to be part of something very special.

The Last Dance

The RW is now finally retired from Edrington, that great Company which is owned by the Robertson Trust and gives out millions of pounds every year to support charities giving hope to the least, last and lost.

They fairly look out for their employees, too, and while giving the community the pleasure of Cutty Sark, The Macallan, Famous Grouse and many other brands of spirits and  the "Water of Life", they treat their folk to  a Grand Ball in The Hilton every year, free of charge. It's an amazing event. Free food, free whisky, free wine, free entertainment which is top-notch, and a free taxi or hotel room for those who cannot stagger home.

The RW and I made our final visit on Friday evening. You are allowed to go to one more after retirement.

We have nothing but criticism about big companies in the modern world, but here they showed a video of some of the projects that the Robertson Trust funds, and wonderful examples of fundraising within the workforce were commended and highlighted. An individual raising money for a Scottish Charity will have that money tripled by the Robertson Trust.

It made us proud the the RW worked for such an ethical Company, and we know that our links with them will not be lost or forgotten.

Time Flies!

Eek! Is it a whole week since I last posted? So much has been going on! Not least of these the opportunity to get to Kinnoull for a lovely wee Lenten Retreat led by Denis McBride. As I said, I felt I was running on empty, a bit, and the chance to join this retreat this week just sort of rolled into my hands. I gratefully took it! Through until Friday, lots of talk and reflection on "Jesus, a Man of Passion", and we are due to begin soon.

I regret not blogging last week, for there were some very deep 'shary' moments, not least how I was feeling after my annual Ministry Review. Once I get home I will be trying to post every day, during Lent, unless something happens this week to discourage that! I'm trying to be open- minded about where God is leading me just now. Out of the pit, hopefully!

So, into silence we go, after supper, and into a chance to meet God in new ways in the stillness. My room is overlooking the gardens and the chickens for once, rather than the car park! Might be a good omen!

Running on Empty

When the RW comments that a few days retreat might do you good, then it's a big hint that you are maybe running on empty. She's insightful this RW.

Apart from the feelings of being restless, irritable and discontent, add the feeling of fragility today, which has me phoning my sponsor/spiritual director first thing this morning.

I feel that January and February have eaten me up, emotionally, spiritually and physically, and although few have noticed the difference, (or am I kidding myself?), a good dose of silence and reflection is possibly what's needed. Fitting something like this in before Lent seems impossible though.

It's wilderness stuff, where a duvet over your head seems to be a tempting proposition.

A slight change of emphasis in my ministry has unsettled me, well, who likes change, but as someone once kept telling me, "Change you must and change you will!"

The wilderness is often part of the journey, but I know in my heart of hearts that the arrival brings joy and a peace which passes all understanding!

Victory at Last!

It is something I have coveted for so long. The Dumbarton Christian Aid Inter-Church Trophy. Last Sunday my flock was given a diatribe about the need to win this trophy. Ten and a half whole years in this parish, and they had failed to bring it home for me.  I even encouraged them to cheat sensibly if necessary! I knew for a fact that some churches tended to depend on Google in the past!

"Go and win it!", was the order! And they did! No cheating required as the wide guys weren't given enough time to go to the toilet to Google between the hard and fast questions!

Champions! At last! 16 teams from all the various churches and we won by a clear 3 points! We are going to have to build a trophy cabinet now!

A lap of honour singing "Hail the Conquering Heroes come" was required today, but three of them were off for a well deserved break.

Barbara, Tim, Margot and Toby. You have no idea of the amount of joy you put into my heart this weekend. We've beaten the Roman Catholics, the Presbies and the Evangelicals too! Stuff ecumenism! This is personal!

The Black Dog

It's not been an easy time, of late, fighting off the Black Dog. Things are going so well, the Parish is in good shape, new initiatives are about to begin, I am a new grand-dad,  professionally I've been affirmed by peers, and yet it hangs around for no reason. The dreadfulness of depression and despair.

Most of my readers will not understand this, in fact I don't understand it myself, but there is the deep feeling of "RID". Restlessness, irritability and discontent. It often weaves a pattern throughout my soul, and I have no defence. Except, get to AA meetings which talk about Steps, and seem to have an answer, not a Christian Church answer, but a spiritual answer to these feelings and help dissipate them.

Of course the Damp-barton weather, and the dull rainy days don't help, and even the sun lamp is no use whatsoever, and I dream of being in The Gambia, or Dubai, or anywhere else I can soak up sunshine and relax, but this is where God has put me. It's actually a good place. I draw on the confidence, enthusiasm and deep faith of my little flock. And that keeps me going through the dark times, but, Lord, I need the 12 Steps too!

What a weakness in a priest. Or is it a strength?

Returns

And on the Sunday Next Before Advent there is a great census in the Scottish Episcopal Church. We need to start counting them. Male and Female we must count, and all the other stuff too. Returns have to be made and they are due in mid-December. Advent, when we are distracted by other thingies!

As a young priest I was very diligent, and my returns must always have been the first in. As I get older, they cease to become a priority and become a chore.

In saying this, there is no excuse! I am shamed that the Diocesan Centre has to call me in February to tell me I'm dead if my returns are not in today at 9am. I am still alive!

Why? Every year I swear that I'll do the damned counting in December. Why do I put it off, except for the fact that I'm the world's greatest procrastinator?

I just did my numbers and they were OK, but there is a fear in numbers, because they can indicate you are failing or somehow not up to the mark.

It's a very competitive thing this ministry. I know clergy who host all sorts of things on the Sunday Next Before Advent to boost their numbers. Why? Because we need to be seen to be successful? Or is it that we don't want others to see that there might be a bit of something lacking in our ministry if the church isn't full to bursting in a bad Sunday in November?

Numbers. Numbers. I blame St Luke for starting it all off. We are obsessed with numbers.

However, during my years and 30+ returns, I see a new obsession. That is gender audit. I'll be very non PC and say that I don't care much for it. We are the People of God and I don't really care if you are male or female or transsexual. You are just one of the number! The congregation are just glad you are here, male or female.

Gender obsession should have no part in our church life. We are simply all followers of the Christ, and I don't really care about your gender. Neither does Jesus.

Four Generations

A visit to see dad in the Care Home with baby Hailey was a unique opportunity for one of those photographs that will always be precious in any family album. Great-grandfather down to Great-granddaughter! (With Graham and me in the middle!)

Dad has not been good of late as his dementia worsens, and even had another wee spell in hospital last week after a fall. What I wouldn't do to have him back again as my dad as I knew him, but yesterday there were glimpses of understanding that this wee girl was part of him, and the comment that my mum would have been so proud was indeed music to my ears. He was in the here and now with some memories of the past. That's not often so these days!

Hailey just slept through it all, as she managed to do during most of yesterday's church service! Not much perturbs the new little star!

Benefits

We are in the midst of great debates about benefits and who should receive them and how much they should reasonably receive. The politicians rant and rave and give us examples. There are people living in multi-million pound houses paid for the State in London, and getting £30k per year. Oh yeah? They don't live in Glasgow or the West of Scotland pal. Not at these prices.

I'll tell you about families who are suffering. I will show you examples.

Here the State is cutting benefits to the poorest folk in my parish. Come and have a walk around. There is an underclass. A section of society where there is no hope. As a church we try to reach out to them, but it is useless, and they are in a cycle of despair. Cut their benefit because we are all in this together. The words are hollow.

Oh yes. The fact is that amongst the poorest, the poor will point the finger at those who haven't 'tried so hard'. The poor will finger the poorest and say that they are loafers! But all these decent people have done is to fall into the trap which says that poverty sharing is acceptable. We have become brainwashed into the acceptability of poverty sharing, and the troops fight each other in the trenches.

The establishment wants this. While the poor fight each other the rich can carry on getting richer! (Now that makes me sound like the radical socialist that you want to dismiss, but there is truth in this.)

However, dismiss this truth at your peril, because there may be trouble ahead.

There is another way. A way where we create jobs in the building and other sectors and pay folk a decent wage for a decent days work. We stop offering crap wages and give people the amount they are due. Invest in roads and housing and infrastructure, and look at ways to stop the poverty sharing which is endemic in our nation.

I will show you countless people in my parish who depend on benefits. The vast majority of them wish this were not so. They want a job. They want to be well enough to work. They will not work for two pounds per hour or be forced into employment which diminishes them as human beings.

But this is the way of it, isn't it?

Get the troops fighting in the trenches and it takes away from the real debate about who is making the money, and where it's going!

But who will listen to me? I'm not a politician, a banker, or whatever.

I am extremely lucky. I get a stipend of £22k and a house. I will be homeless in 8 years. Who will care for me then?

Does it matter? I want someone to care for me. I'd prefer an independent Scottish Government!

Thirty Years On...

It doesn't seem like it, but it was thirty years ago today that I held my newborn son in Rottenrow. I remember the intense feeling of joy, and the day we brought the carry-cot home and laid it in front of the fire in the Rectory of St Matthew's Possilpark.

Poor guy didn't have an easy childhood. Apart from being moved from parish to parish through his childhood, he had to deal with my addiction issues during his growing-up, and being the minister's son in the East End of Glasgow was never the easiest option!

However, he survived it all in spite of me, and last week he held his own firstborn in his arms. All sorts of emotions were flying through my gut as I took the photo here.

Just a few days earlier, Graham, for that is his name, had been made redundant by Harte, a big building firm in Lanarkshire. 700 jobs were lost that day as the firm folded. I thought disaster, but my resilient son just got busy, and has already gotten himself a new job with higher wages and a new Vauxhall Insignia to boot.

I'm proud of him today. 30 years old, and things are looking good! What a lucky man I am.

Happy Birthday, Graham!

Local Talent!

Some years ago, a group of spotty young teenagers asked if they could use St Augustine's for band practice. No problem! Decent teenagers from Dumbarton Academy with lots of talent. They called themselves "Mellifluous", and within the next years they were playing gigs in St Aug's with 'hunners' of local teenagers coming to hear them play.

Now, young Craig White has gone solo and has released an EP, but his first Music Video had to be filmed, where else, in St Augustine's Dumbarton. Made up Stories is a decent song, and some of you will be well acquainted with the surroundings! Good luck, Craig, in your career ahead and don't forget us when you become a millionaire!

The First Visit...

Hello Pappa!

The RW shows her expertise!

Safe in my arms..

Testing the right foot for potential!

Graham, proud dad!

Angela and Graham lookin' smug!

Thank you, Angela, for a beautiful grand-daughter!

We are a Pappa!

Well, here she is at last! Hailey Myra Caroline Macaulay, 8lbs 9oz, born at 11.58pm last night. To say I'm overjoyed, over-the-moon, etc etc would be an injustice to how I'm feeling! It's almost as if I've given birth myself, I'm so chuffed.

It has not been an easy pregnancy, and poor Angela had a rough time of it, but all is well as another Partick Thistle Nil fan is born.

I know everyone thinks that their own child/grandchild is the best looking baby ever, so I curb my response to the Glaswegian, 'She's no' bad eh?'

It is a tradition in the Macaulay clan that the father's father is called "Pappa". Much prefer this to "Grand-dad"! However, no doubt she'll find her own name for me eventually. I only hope it sounds favourable!

Off to festoon her with gifts this afternoon! Parish work can wait!

Big Step

Of course we are all delighted in St Augustine's to be the first parish in the Diocese to complete its Mission Action Plan. The solemn signing took place on Sunday at the 11am. We now have goals to meet in the next 12 months. Achievable, yes, but a bit of work lies ahead of us!

My thanks to the Vestry, and the wee core group who worked with Revd Anne Tomlinson, who all made our speedy response a simple and enjoyable one!

Our Year

Now in circulation. Our Parish Year (click to make big). On Sunday we are due to sign our Mission Action Plan for the Diocese, and we need to continue to grow. However, I look at what's been achieved already and I'm grateful to be leading a congregation that is so outward looking and has great plans for the future mission and ministry.

I am lucky to have such a great group of people who are willing to take chances and who have a tremendous commitment to "outsiders" and "insiders" alike.

I count my blessings today!

Choral Scholar

I guess it all started on Advent 4 when one of my "older lassies" commented after the 9am 1662 Prayer Book Service that she had missed the Gloria during Advent. Not only that, but she sung the Gloria in her heart to the music of her childhood when we came to it in the Liturgy on a Sunday.

On Christmas Day I decided to give her a Christmas present, and after communion I sang the Gloria, solo, and to the astonishment of all. Her comment afterwards was, "Wonderful! But it's not the tune I sing to!"

Then, into the New Year, and she has presented me with this!

"Choral Scholar of 2011", made with her own frail hands.

It's enough to make you weep. Such a simple gesture meant so much to an old lady. Her response means so much to me.

When Liturgy arguments roll on about it being inclusive and the necessity of it all being relevant to the incomer, and politically correct, it's maybe OK to remember those folk in our congregations who find security and heartwarming affirmation of their faith in a Liturgy which brings them closer to God in their latter years, and strengthens their dedication to a Church which nurtured them and gave them something which is eternal.

Not a Good 24 Hours

Family-wise things could be a bit better in the Rectory at the mo! Son Graham was sent home from work today, having been told his Firm is going into receivership. That in the week his first child is due. Although not totally unexpected, it is still a bitter blow, and there are not a lot of jobs around in the Building Trade at present. Anyone need a good QS?

Dad is not good either at the moment, and his dementia is deteriorating. The Care Home staff are terrific, but he is increasingly in need of special attention now, and I fear he's coming to a point where they wil no longer be able to deal with him. What happens after that makes me shudder a little, so Auld Jack is maybe in need of some prayers just now!

On a brighter note, Isla, the RW's grand-daughter is flourishing and rather beautiful, and by next week I should be a proud grand-daddy myself! Now there's a new job from Graham, right away!

Mapping

And a decree had been sent out by the Diocese that each parish should have a MAP, or a Mission Action Plan to you! And so it came to pass that after much beavering, the Parish of St Augustine's Dumbarton has produced such a plan and is ready to sign it on Sunday before all the congregation, to whom the plan actually belongs!

It's been a long slog, the culmination of two years hard work, with a lot of navel gazing, a lot of affirmation of current ministries, and lots of hopes and dreams for the future. It ensures that we don't stand still, or rest on our laurels, but continue to grow in our witness, ministry and mission.

It can all seem to be a daunting task. The Diocese is asking much, especially of wee parishes who have been struggling to do their best with few resources for years, but the exercise, if done properly should be a positive one which commends, affirms and supports the little parishes who struggle on struggling on!

We have now set goals for the coming year. As long as we are really all in this together, as I said on Sunday, it should be an interesting twelve months in Dumbarton!

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year to all! Wishing you every blessing in 2012!

It bodes well for me that by mid-January I should be a grandfather, and I can't quite see past that at the moment, however my local Morrison's store are well ahead of the game!

The picture on the right is from one of the aisles in their store in Dumbarton yesterday. They seem to have managed to get the whole story of salvation into one bit, with the Easter Eggs underneath the holly wreath! Good for them!

I'm always saying you can't separate the Nativity of Our Lord from his Cross and Resurrection. Part of the one package! Well done Morrisons for spotting this!

Wonderful Christmas

Having just finished my last Home Communion after Christmas, it's a minute to post my favourite pic of the season! It's the RW finally cracking under the strain with the electric carving knife which, thankfully, she'd forgotten to plug in at the time!

It has been a good Christmas, with a wonderful Midnight celebration, lots of goodies, and the world would be even better had Archie not taken a likening to Belgian chocolates, ham wrapped in tinfoil, and my slippers!

Oh! Santa brought an iPad too, so I'm now on a learning curve! Watch out!

Angel in the Darkness

Well, it's like never that I post a picture of my Christmas tree!

I fling it together every year, and sometimes it looks better than others. However, this year I wanted to share a wee bit which you can't really see too well from the photo!

At the front, near the bottom/middle is a wee straw angel. Somehow the lights have managed to bypass her, and there is a little hole of darkness with only the angel there, shining as brightly as anything else, even the over-sized angel on top!

I meditated long and hard last night on the angel in the darkness. For many, this Christmas will be a time of great darkness, but in the midst of it the angel still says, "Fear Not!"

Pressures Receeding

Now that Advent 4 is past, the Christmas Cards written and posted, the RW's car fixed and collected from the garage, and several deadlines met that had to be met, it might be a space today to actually put up the Christmas tree!

I suspect Rectory families don't have it too easy in the run up to Christmas. Friends and other families have their stuff up by December 1st and their houses look like Santa's Grotto from Advent 1. However, the "grumpy cleric" insists it's still only Advent and everything is put on hold until the last days of Advent and some of the pressures are off. I know many clerics who will not have a bauble in the house until it's almost Christmas Eve! (I'm afraid I'm a bit like that myself, loathing Christmas Carols until after Advent 4!!)

I may even go Christmas shopping soon! Hums.. "The Angel Gabriel..."

The Christmas Party

St Augustine's Community Christmas Party and Candlelit Carol Service didn't disappoint again this year, although one of Santa's little helpers had problems getting into his gear!

Each year we bring everyone together, hall users, various weans, big and small, and start off with a big party at the back of the church. That tends to be pandemonium, but there's always Santa to look forward to! He was as magnificent as ever in 2011, with a new outfit, (XXXXXXL Size) from a posh shop in Helensburgh!

Santa's little helper gets his stuff from Slater's! There are lots of pics of the children and other exciting bits which will go up on the Parish Site as soon as I've written my Christmas Cards, but here is a pic of the Dynamic Duo,,,
and one of the Service. We had well over 100 folk who came and went during the four hours!

Dumbarton Nativity (Repost)

Mum

Yes, I miss my mother. She's been dead twelve years now, but she is still very much with me, and she still "speaks" to me through the days and the weeks. I guess that "confession" is brought on by two things. Firstly by a fellow blogger who has just lost her mum, and my heartfelt sympathy goes out to her,  and something else which happened this week to me which my mother would have strong opinions about. She's been whispering in my ear since Monday!

Isn't it strange that even as we grow older, the voice of our mothers is still strong in our lives? We remember sayings, phrases, funny events, and more and more I find myself saying, "As my mother would have said....."

I have been blessed this week with opportunities for silence and reflection. Many voices have spoken in the silence, and I hope God was among them, but the strongest voice has been my mother's! Beyond the grave with comfort, challenge, and a wee reprimand!

As I think of those who have lost loved ones recently, my heart goes out to them at this first Christmas without them. However, we are not without them. The line between the living and the departed is very thin within the Communion of Saints, and our loved ones are not far from us. We need to remember this. We can cry at our loss, but the loss is merely physical.

She was not perfect, but my mum gave me her faith. For that I will be eternally grateful. We all have reasons to be grateful for those we love but see no longer. Maybe we can count them and smile during the "jolly" time which is looming. They are celebrating the birth of the Christ too.

It's Hard When you are Little!

Young Neve manages to light the Gaudete Candle on Sunday, with a little help from a friend!

Only one more to go, then Santa is coming!

Oh! And the Baby Jesus too!

Come and bring your weans to the Parish Christmas Party on Sunday, in church, at 4pm.

Visitors..

Here are some members of the Scottish Tour Guides Association who visited Dumbarton on a study day at the beginning of December.  Few knew much about the town, having mostly whizzed past in tour buses.

The exception is the lady in the green jacket - Margaret  nee Goldie, daughter of Fred Goldie, who was once Rector of the parish and who went on to be Bishop of Glasgow and Galloway. Margaret  sends her regards to anyone who remembers her.  The family left Dumbarton to go to St Margaret's Newlands..

Archie's Dream!

Zzzzzzzzzzzz

A 6am start this morning to take the RW to the airport. She's off to Welsh Wales to see her new grandchild Isla for a few days, laden down with gifts, not only from us, but from members of St Aug's too. So, a few days for myself, and peace perfect peace in The Rectory. The dogs and cats are a handful, but I can at least rule the roost until Friday.

Oh! Cards will be printed and posted, and a lot of admin including dastardly Parish Returns might also be done.

However, grandchildren, or the thought of them, bring a smile to my face. Graham, my son, and his beautiful partner Angela, are about to present me with my own first grandchild on or around January 13th, and I'm beginning to realise that this is no longer in the distant future. So Santa could well be bringing me a cardigan, pipe and some comfy slippers so I can at least look the part!

It's certainly making me think of generations just now. My dad is suffering badly from dementia just now, and visits are a heartbreak. His care home is fantastic, but he's not the most popular chocolate in the box when he head-butts staff in his anger and frustration. The old Glasgow Kiss is something he remembers OK, and that's upsetting for all.

If the cigarettes don't kill me first, I often wonder how things would be if it was me in a care home. I pretend that it would be fine and I would cope, but I know I wouldn't, and I'd feel as sad and abandoned as my dad feels just now. That engenders feelings of guilt, but I know we couldn't even begin to give him the care he needs. Frank Downie House staff in Dalmuir are just fantastic and they give him the best life possible.

Recently I have been dreaming of my deceased mum, and I remember how close they both were, a real loving partnership. I pray often that dad would just have a massive stroke, or something, pass away quietly and be with her again. I don't know if that's a good prayer or not, a selfish or a self-less prayer, but I know that his funeral, when it comes, will be one of gratitude that my Old Man will have been released from the pain  he's so obviously in at the moment.

Another generation is about to be born, and I guess that's just the way of things.

And will this new child visit me in my care home? Naw! He'll be too busy playing for Partick Thistle Nil!

Disappointed!

This is one of my lads from The Gambia. Another in the background with an old Dumbarton top.

He's going to be disappointed today!

However, I'm delighted that Partick Thistle Nil put away another three points today, at Cappielow, no less!

C'mon the Harry Wraggs! We can still win this league!

Borrowed from Big Rab - Hurricane Bawbag is Tamed!

This is from the STV website

It continues:

Mosaic

The mosaic used as an altar frontal on Wednesday was made by the Women's Group attached to Alternatives in Dumbarton, entitled "New Beginnings".  (Click to make big) It took them six months to make this, and I covet it immensely! I'm borrowing it back for Easter Day at least! Brilliant and beautiful piece of work!

Light up the Fire!

The Service of Remembrance for those who have died as a result of addiction went well on Wednesday night. When you compile liturgies from scratch, you worry about how they will work out in practice, but this one flowed well, and the feedback has far surpassed my expectations.

The church was fairly full, mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, friends and caseworkers of young people who had died as a result of drug misuse, others with names of people who had died as a result of alcoholism.

We were all given the chance to name someone we had lost and light a candle in their memory. There was a lot of healing and some closure going on. The liturgy flowed well, and ended by remembering those still suffering on the streets and at home, with a great feeling and message of hope for all.

Afterwards we had coffee, tea and eats in the hall, where we were joined by a large gang of NA folk in recovery. That certainly gladdened the heart!

Hopefully, this will only be the first one of these services, and it will become an annual event in out town. We had 18 drug related deaths in West Dunbartonshire this year. Unfortunately that number will be added to as the weeks and months and years progress.

A Book of Remembrance has been started, and it will be housed in St Augustine's. We will remember them.

Nothing can be done without drama, however, at St Aug's, and after everyone was safely in the Community Hall blethering, the candles on the table at the front of the altar exploded into a huge flame. A large dollop of baptismal water was used to "pit it oot"!

Worth doing? Certainly!

Dumbarton's Cup

Some years ago I started sponsoring and supporting a large group of lads in Brufut, in The Gambia. They had a large number of lads who were daft on football, but they had no kit, no jerseys, shorts, socks, boots. No nothing, except incredible skills.

Shortly afterwards, I approached Dumbarton Football Club, and they generously donated some old kit which was shipped out for my boys.

They changed their name to Dumbarton FC, and proudly wore the yellow and black, with a white jersey with blue trimmings as a second kit when colours clashed. The lads have done well ever since. I've watched them mature and grow, and rise in the Gambian leagues. They are now in a position where they are overseen by the Gambian Football Association, and must have certified officials to referee and run the line on their games.

They became, and still are Dumbarton daft. They look up their results when possible, and they even had special T-shirts printed with the Dumbarton crest on them. You can catch a glimpse behind the cup in the photo.

Yes! A trophy! This year they won the Gambian Combos Cup, and there was much celebration, as you can imagine. You can imagine too that the Dumbarton Kit is well worn and done.

Maybe Dumbarton FC will donate some more? Certainly, a Dumbarton FC in The Gambia, or anywhere else in the world, winning trophies is good news! We just need them to get into the yellow and black again. They are having to hire kit at the moment, and these guys really live in poverty. They charge 10 Dalasi, about 20p to watch their matches, and that just about covers referee fees and their membership of the GFA. Anything else they have to pay for out of their own meagre profits!

Any donations to help support this team are gratefully received!

Remembering

Tonight, for the first time ever, the people of West Dunbartonshire have an opportunity to remember those who have died as a result of addiction in a formal church setting. St Augustine's is hosting a Candle-lit Service, devised by yours truly, and hopefully it will hit the spot. This year alone we have had 18 deaths through drug addiction, and God only knows the number through alcoholism and its effects.

We're pulling out all the stops with millions of candles, some Taize music, and a chance for folk to remember, light a candle, or share their story. Trying to organise things like this are a nightmare sometimes, dealing with great folk whose lives are a bit chaotic anyway, or those whose lives are chaotic because they are caring for or working with the chaotic. For those who know me, they will realise that I'm totally at home with that! Chaos and I are really good friends!

I'm trying, desperately, to stay in professional mode, but I can't remember the last time I was so nervous about something. It's maybe because it's the first time around, or maybe because I know it's got to be just "right" for those who are in varying stages of grief. People will come, or will they? People will be upset, people will come with expectations, looking for closure, looking for comfort. Can we do all that? Can we pull it all together on the night?

I'm trying to pray and keep calm but I can't because I know how much this will mean to some folk. I'm giving it all to God, then I'm taking it back again, and the stomach is churning! So say a wee prayer for us tonight!

Advent Hope

Feeling Like a Priest Again.

As I sit down tonight, after the busiest day, it's with feelings of satisfaction. Not just that I managed to tick off a few more "must do" things in the list in my head, but that in the past 24 hours I have been really there for people who have needed me to be there for them. Often, in my busy-ness I forget that this is what it's all about.

Open Doors ministry is great in theory, but when I'm in the middle of a thousand things, and someone says, "Rector, there's a guy in church bawling his eyes out and he's not even drunk or on drugs", the human, frail reaction is, "Well gie him a hankie and tell him to say a prayer!" (Honestly, I never actually say that!) I might feel it, and in the middle of admin and planning, and magazines and sermons and all the rest, that's very human, I think, but I get a much bigger buzz in shutting my office door and facing what ever needs to be faced.

Two enormous problems today, talked over with guys who are really lost and in the wilderness, together with an emotionally heartbreaking pastoral problem last night, and Kenny is feeling like a priest again. It's a funny thing to say, that. "Feeling like a priest again", but so much in modern ministry can weigh us down and take us, or tempt us away from the things we were ordained for.

And despite the fact that I was "hauled" away from the admin, you know, it got done anyway!!!! It may be 9.50pm, but it got done!

The Weekend After

Usually it takes me a few days before my head catches up with my body after a trip to The Gambia. For several days my head hangs over the Sahara, and eventually body and soul and mind come together again. It's that sort of place.

For some reason, this year, probably because it was the beginning of Advent on Sunday, the first weekend back was complete overload! Friday night saw our annual Pantodine in church, this year Augadoon, (rather than Brigadoon), and we all had a part to play. Thankfully my role didn't require me to learn the words, and I read from my script perfectly! It was a great night as ever, with ham acting, a beautiful meal, and a bishop rolling in the aisles with laughter. The RW played the Good Fairy perfectly, but there was a cast of star performances.

Saturday saw us engage with serious stuff, sitting down and working out our plans for our Mission Action Plan, as required by the Diocese. Anne Tomlinson was wonderful, as always, affirming the things we are doing well, and pointing us in the sort of direction we could be growing into in the next year. It was a good session, and it gives us lots to work on, and maybe we made a good start with an incredibly emotional Healing Service on Sunday evening. Almost 40 folk attended, most of whom weren't regulars, and the feedback has been very positive.

So, Advent Sunday, the start of a New Year for the Church was maybe the beginning of something which we will be building on, and looking ahead to a special service on Wednesday, when we'll be hosting a Service of Remembrance in St Aug's for those who have died as a result of addiction. More tears are expected, but we hope and pray that they will be tears of healing.