Apparently the display of Fireworks just up the road in Oban did not go so well last night. The display was supposed to last for half an hour, but…
Ooops.
Apparently the display of Fireworks just up the road in Oban did not go so well last night. The display was supposed to last for half an hour, but…
Ooops.
A friend told a story tonight that had me in stitches.
She had been surfing the glorious interweb and checking out some Christian sites. You could say, indulging in a bit of religious surfing. Now this activity is not without it’s risks. One might be able to cope with the madness that you will encounter by trying to laugh at it all- some of it is pretty darned funny after all. Check out Ship of fools if you do not believe me.
But aiming for a bit of superior oh-isn’t-this-funny-but-I-am-above-all-this-madness is only likely to take you so far. Because it usually starts to get rather painful. You start to realise that some of this hysterical ranting is being done in the name of Jesus. Or even worse, you realise that you are starting to laugh at- yourself. Some of the madness starts to sound a little too familiar.
But back to my friend. She came across a site promising a free Bible, if you completed their online quiz. Well, she was up for that. A nice leather bound black Bible to replace her rather tatty paperback one.
She is not daft though- she e-mailed to ask if the organisation would then use/abuse her e-mail address in future- but was assured that this would not be the case. So she went ahead and submitted her details.
A few day later, she was having a duvet day- you know the sort of thing, getting up late, mooching around and watching crap day time TV, snacking and leaving the pots for a while- all the time wearing clothes that really should never see the light of the public day. We all need the odd day like this. Then came a knock on the door.
She lifted the net curtain, and there stood an African Pastor and his wife.
Holding a big black Bible.
This made me laugh out loud.
But there is a poignancy behind it all too- this process of becoming that we have set ourselves towards…
Pauline told a lovely story tonight in housegroup…
She was talking to her 5 year old grandson, and the conversation went something like this-
“Nana- you know that place that you go to when you die?”
Pauline thought for a while, and just to test his understanding asked “What place do you mean?”
“Heaven” said he.
“Oh yes” said Pauline- what about it?”
“Well, what about the other place?”
Now we have been talking a lot about the concept of hell- where it all come from, and what we might understand by this. The whole Zoroastrian import into Judaism, filtered through non-dual interpretations of the Bible, and bashed about by Evangelical fundamentalism. It has left us with a lot of question marks (as discussed in a few recent posts!) but Pauline’s immediate problem was the immanent possibility of having to reproduce all this into some kind of meaningful story for a 5 year old.
She chickened out a little, and asked “What place do you mean?”
“That place where they put the dead bodies” he said.
At this point, Pauline was wondering exactly where he was going . “Do you mean the graveyard?” she asked.
“Yes” said he. “How can you go to heaven if they put soil on top of you?”
A question indeed to conjure with. Pauline’s answer, I think, was rather good. She asked him to think about the bit of him deep inside that looked outside- and suggested that this bit lived for ever, but only the outside bit goes into the ground.
“Oh” he said “So it is just all skin under the ground then?”
He’s got it thought Pauline. “I suppose so.” she said. But then he thought for a little while longer and added-
“And all the bones and things go up to heaven.”
Well it is all a bit of a mystery for all of us really…
I have avoided any mention of cricket during England’s recent triumph over Australia in the Ashes, but today Will and I sort of joined the local cricket team…
We went to a coaching session advertised in the paper, and had a great time, although I am aching in familiar cricket muscles that have been dormant since my last serious playing days.
Which were 20 years ago!
William is obsessed with cricket- which to this particular father is a great thing- and in this case, gave me an excuse to join in. I particularly enjoyed a serious batting session, smashing the ball all over the sports hall.
While we are talking about the Ashes, I came accross England Spinner Graeme Swann’s you tube diary the other day, and it made me laugh- the man seems to have some genuine comic timing. Here is a sample-