I recently asked Sue Young to write a short blog for us occasionally and I must admit, her first edition (shown below) had me laughing out loud. I hope you find this section an interesting and enlightening addition to our Website.
Sue Writes…..
PRODIGAL PARISHIONER
As the weather worsens and a kaleidoscope of fallen leaves decorate my path into church, I feel winter’s arrival and it also reminds me that Christmas is around the corner. Snow is forecast this week and suddenly I realise that I have made no preparations for gritting my drive at home. Kind souls at St. Oswald’s will no doubt enable the old and creaky amongst us (no names) to get to a service safely, without a tumble. My new all-singing, all-dancing walking stick helps, although as a Church Warden will testify, it’s ‘lit-up end’ falls of regularly, disappearing under the nearest pew. Its red button alarm, intended to signify to others that I might need help, is far too easy to press unintentionally. The ‘Silence’ of Remembrance Day was (I am pleased to say) not shattered.
I feel blessed these days to be personally delivered of the Eucharist, brought to me in my distant pew in the bowels of the church. It feels a bit like a home delivery service, though not pizza, but without the need to put in an order first. Standard Bread and Wine and no need to pay. At least in money!! This gesture to help for me avoids the possibility for me taking a potential face-plant en-route to the Alter. Accepting this kind of ‘help in the pew’ delivery service with grace does challenge my self esteem a little, but nevertheless I am deeply grateful to receive it. I hope that, seated in my pew, I shall continue to be able to handle and imbibe the offering, taken carefully from the Celebrant.
Cold, darkened winter Sunday afternoons are only relieved for me by Evensong, now being offered at 3.30pm and not at 6 pm. Advent is upon us and its only a stones thrown to Christmas. I am not sure if the Geese are getting fat, but there is nothing like a Christingle service memory from my past to highlight fire and health & safety issues around children and lit candles. My memory of my eldest son (then a 12 year old acolyte with arsonist tendencies), setting alight to his younger sister’s cassock with his Paschal Candle. Forgiveness was a long time coming.
My Grandchildren also took part in a Nativity last year, what a joyful sight. Keeping the ‘Baby Jesus’ safe from harm during these proceedings can often be a perilous issue. I remember well a child of mine, attired as an angel with drooping wings, absconded with the Baby Jesus (much to the horror of all present) after an angry chase around the Alter the baby lost a leg and the Virgin Mary was inconsolable!
Christmas is synonymous for most of us with an element of childhood joy. In my twilight solo years, the amazing Choral music we can experience at St. Oswald’s makes this a special time for adults too. My personal challenge is always to keep hold of my fragile emotions at this time, or soon I shall run out of Kleenex. It is a time when loneliness and loss of all kinds, can deeply effect us. Going back to an empty house (apart from a grumpy cat) after the buzz and love created in a Carol Service can be a hard one to face. I haven’t yet taught said grumpy cat to cook diner for me, but if I switch on the television to break the deafening silence, it will soon be obvious that my life is extraordinarily blessed. Our World all around is in crisis and I must remember to dry my own personal tears and keep our suffering world in my prayers.
20th December addition to my plight
Before Christmas I found myself perched grumpily in my Church pew, praying fervently for some divine intervention to find my currently absent Christmas Spirit. The Church was beautifully lit with festive twinkling trees and the message from the pulpit telling of the joy of the impending birth of Jesus. The choral singing evoked tangible emotions in me as it always does, but I was sadly finding it difficult to celebrate the Christmas Story. When younger – I was definitely going to be the ‘Old lady who wears Purple’ now it transpires that maybe im not! I would however like to harness some of that freedom and joie de vivre rather than be joyless, crabby and glum! I was approaching the imminent arrival of the Christ Child almost with a sense of foreboding rather than the expectance of a new and exciting light.
Rescue arrived in the shape of my Grandsons’ school taking over our normal sober church for their own end of term celebrations. Little children adorned in red Santa hats and reindeer antlers swarmed excitedly over our empty pews and choir stalls like hyperactive ants on an unstoppable mission to explore and discover our ecclesiastical heritage. They simply filled the church with Joy. I really wanted to be Grumpy but I couldn’t be. Their innocent, happy voices (especially for me my Grandson’s’ solo) struck me afresh with the truth and majesty of the Christmas Story. They took confidently to the pulpit, some barely able to peep over the top, and in shrill, crystal clear tones, delivered their carefully penned offerings and beautifully crafted poetry on the topic of Homelessness. In spite of their apparent innocence, they seemed to grasp the essence of the pain of being without a home. I was assuming that they all had warm beds to go home to, and tummies full of food, so how could they know what it would be like to sleep on the streets at Christmas, but they did! In the midst of this joyful choral concert each of their poetic sermons made an impact. Adoring parents listened in hushed reverence to words they have no doubt been going over in their sleep for the last 3 weeks, still managing to look like they were struck with the awe and wonder of it all. To me, sitting in my pew, it felt just right! Christmas has arrived (albeit a bit early) We shed tears for the homeless the Children described – listened to the little ones sing their festive message with glee and rapture yet pause to individually impart this vital social message to us all – us so called ‘Grown Ups’ in the Congregation.
The Spirit of Christmas, of Love and Care for others, was right there in me – at last. As my Grandson’s poem was read, I could not help but think with pride that he has much more to teach his grumpy Grandma this Christmastime.
Prayer for the 3898
one night last year there were:
3898 people sleeping on the street
3898 People getting cold feet
3898 people who deserve kindness, respect and care
3898 people for whom life doesn’t seem fair
3898 people is too many without a roof over their head
3898 people desperately needing a safe bed
3898 people like me and you
There must be something we can do!
Together we can do better,
Together we really should
Change 3898 to zero
and end homelessness for good
Ben Owen – Aged 10