OK, I did the quiz too
http://quizilla.com/users/JoiTheArtist/quizzes/Which%20Saint%20Are%20You%3F/
and it would appear that I am Julian of Norwich.

And I have been to her shrine and it wasn't smelly. But I did see a woman praying on her knees there who had a beautiful expression on her face.

I've got about four books on the go just now. Angel and Me by Sara Maitland (on Jen's recommendation), Snow falling in Cedars by David Guterson (for next week's bookgroup and I'm never going to make it), The Thyroid Diet by Mary J Shomon (to see how I can lose some weight) and Celebrating the Eucharist by Benjamin Gordon-Taylor and Simon Jones (cos I know Simon).

The latter I just picked up this morning while waiting for the washing to finish and before I dash out to visit Dad on my day off. Chapter 1 is on Liturgical Style and having only got to page 3 I can see that none of this was taught to us in Tisec. Nor was any of it mentioned in my curacy. It is just not good enough! And even if they hadn't want to teach it, then they could at least have pointed us in the right direction by recommending a book to read.

Maybe that is all changed now, of course.

Everlasting God,
you have ordained and constituted
the ministries of angels and mortals in a wonderful order:
grant that as your holy angels always serve you in heaven,
so, at your command,
they may help and defend us on earth;
through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
God for ever and ever. Amen.

In light of today's news about an elderly man being thrown out of the Labour Party conference for heckling, it occurred to me that if I were to throw out all folk who heckle me when I'm preaching then I'd have a very empty church.

I have just received a newsletter from the Rev'd Winnie Muvunyi who is building a nursery in Kigali, Rwanda. Winnie and her husband Louis (also an Anglican priest) stayed in Linlithgow last year and won the hearts of the people here who have been fundraising and sending toys over to Rwanda to start the Alpha Pre-Nursery School. The nursery is now built and in operation but now they want to raise further funds to build a hall which can be used by the community.

It would appear that the children of Romania have contributed £100 towards the nursery. It seems incredible that children who are in great need themselves have raised money to send to others. They say that this donation of £100 is the equivalent of around £1000 raised in this country.

Linlithgow continues to raise funds and will hold a coffee morning with stalls this Saturday 1 October from 10am to 12 noon at Cross House.

Betty (one of the members of staff) writes:
"It was my first time to hear much about Scotland, and I was touched by the love and support the people of Scotland are showing in the process of rebuilding our country by supporting this nursery. I can see God's hand in Rwanda again; this shows that God is working around the world to bless Rwanda as a country and all those who are in this country. It is very hard to explain this but, God knows how happy and excited everybody in this village is. God has given our nursery the beauty you cannot find easily. May God bless all who have contributed and continuing to support the nursery."

If you want to help, contact Seeds of Hope Charitable Trust: email mg011a6498@blueyonder.co.uk

I have come to the conclusion that I have a love/hate relationship with the Shrine of Our Lady at Walsingham. The first time I visited was about 10 years ago on a parish trip and I served at the altar when we said Mass in the Holy House. It was a very special moment and one I can still remember vividly. I also remember being moved to tears as my friend Shena and I climbed up the steps after sprinkling at the well and stood before the Annunciation chapel with its beautiful altar. I remember adoring the relic of the True Cross and Grahame seeing the thigh-bone of St Vincent. I remember nuns bustling about the paths in the garden, greeting us with smiles and welcome. I remember fondly, and with some amusement, the Ascension chapel with two brown, plaster feet dangling from the clouds painted on the ceiling.

Then, a few years later, going back on another parish retreat and finding it just as evocative. I remember being moved at the Slipper Chapel and lighting many candles for friends in need. There is also some dim memory of a fiasco with the bells at mass and more laughter later on the bus when the sun danced for Shena and I.

Last year I went again with two priest friends after Easter. Oh how different it was to be there and find so many male priests bustling around and to watch a woman priest being shunned by some prickly ordinands at a dinner table. No female voices heard at any of the little altars. We stopped going to many of the services offered, not wanting to watch concelebrations where we were not welcome to practice our priestly ministry. Oh, we enjoyed the quiet and our own private moments in the Holy House and in the garden. But the atmosphere was oppressive and I thought I wouldn't go back again.

And now I have returned from another Walsingham experience. An experience of mixed emotions - of prejudice and love. This time I was allowed to stay in the College with the other clergy but I'm afraid that was the only concession made. Reactions to my dog collar ranged from observing whiplash as some tried to turn their heads and not catch my eye; hearing that some folk were upset because there was to be a 'priestess' on the pilgrimage; snivelling through a eucharist where my friends and others concelebrated while I stood at the back with a comforting arm round my shoulder; and being handed prayer requests from ten people because they had been told to hand them to any priest and wanted to affirm my presence; and hearing that some of the pilgrims had questioned the Shrine Warden as to why one of their priests was not allowed to do anything and getting a waffled reply that it would stop the Anglo-Catholics coming.

It occurred to me as I listened and prayed that God can call Mary; can call the Lady Richeldis to build the shrine that would become one of the most popular places of pilgrimage; can call men to be priests in God's church... but it would seem that God can't call me. Or any other women. And it was strange to be caught up in arguements that just don't exist up here in Scotland any more - or at least only in one or two places. Even my own home congregation, some of whom struggle with where I am now, have asked me to preach and preside at the mass and have never stopped speaking to me. It was like stepping back in time. And not in a good way.

However, it was not all doom and gloom. There was lots of shopping and the purchase of two icons of St Columba, much tat and two beautiful little statues. There was much laughter in The Bull and with my own little flock. There was meeting new friends and clergy and sharing of stories. There was little sleep because of a large snoring priest in the room below and very noisy plumbing. There was much attention seeking by all and sundry. And there was the purchase of a giant image of Our Lady of Walsingham for the Scottish pilgrimage and a journey home with her on the train wrapped up in bubble wrap.

Prayers and petitions were offered, many tears were shed in sorrow and in joy. And Our Lady watched it all. I wonder what she makes of it all?

Off to Walsingham today to the Shrine of Our Lady for the Scottish National Pilgrimage. Travelling with Fr Dazzle, Fr Gordie, 2 of my little flock and a host of other devotees. Rosary is packed, along with G&T, spending money and lungs ready to sing as many Marian hymns as are thrown at me. Ave Maria!

Took mum to the hospital this morning with her brand new disabled sticker for the car. First we took a wrong turning (well, it was the right turning on the map they had sent but it took us to the tradesmans' entrance where I had to do a spectacular 3-point turn, if I do say so myself) and finally found what we thought was the carpark nearest to the department she needed.

As we passed this car park we could see the disabled bays so we dully parked and hiked a fair bit to the hospital entrance, commenting on how far it was. When we were ready to go home Mum assured me that we don't have to pay if we have her sticker so I asked the girl at the desk how we sorted this out and she said she didn't know but I'd best go to the main desk which is about half a mile away. Mum couldn't walk that far - or why would she have a disabled sticker? - so I trotted off. There I was told that if you go into a car park you have to pay and this is not for disabled people.

"But it has a wheelchair sign and says disabled," says I.

"No, we only have a few disabled parking spaces and those are other ones. They are not free because they are in a car park," says the man in a uniform.

We only have a few disabled parking spaces? This is a hospital for goodness sake! Where else would you needs lots of disabled spaces? The ones in the car park are for wheelchair users who don't have to worry about walking distances.

He gave me a complaints form. I paid up. I will look forward to filling it in.

On the way back to the car we saw three spaces for disabled badge users. They were full.

The end of the tax year is at the beginning of April. Every year. And every year I keep putting off doing my tax return until that reminder comes in in September. So for two weeks now all my receipts and stuff have been littering my desk and I have shifted it from one side to the other and procrastinated quite spectacularly. (Well, a new computer was much more fun.)

Today I got it all done and ready to transfer to the form which my tax person sends out. But could I find the form? So just when I thought I could file all this away it seems that I now have to keep it all cluttering up my desk for another few days until the form arrives.

This year I promise to be more organised. To do it each week. To have it all ready to transfer it to the form in April. Well, that's the plan.

Came across this in one of my files when I was having a good clear out. No idea from whence it came.

Theological language – the revised edition.

* Trini–tini–tarianism – Belief in a miniscule but three–personed God.
* Exebegesis – Textual interpretation that results in scaring the pants off you.
* Septuasquint – Vision deficit resulting from intense study of small–print version of the Septuagint.
* Codex Sinusitis – Historically important New Testament manuscript that makes you sneeze.
* Hypocrypha – extra–canonical documents that pretend to be part of the apocrypha but aren't.
* Apocalips – The intensely pursed expression of readers of “Left Behind” books.
* Tell–e–all–ogy – The theological justification for sleazy unauthorized biographies.
* Pentatouché – A crushing rejoinder to arguments that Moses did not write the Pentateuch.
* More–pheology Theology – The study of the slippery changes of the prosperity doctrine.
* Trylemma – The crisis of conscience experienced by agnostics who try to respond to C.S. Lewis' "Lord, liar or lunatic" argument.
* Eh–scatology – Ho–hum exposition of the end times.
* Decalogue – A dialogue between ten people. Often unsuccessfully attempted in Episcopal and Presbyterian communities. (Not related to the Ten Commandments, unless to debunk them.)
* Christodgily – Dry, academic discussion of the various manifestations of Christ.
* Form Criticism – What liberal theologians engage in when they go on Spring Break.
* Intarnation – Ontological epithet often inserted into the sentence "What.* are you doing?"
* Par–wooz–sia – State of mental fuzziness induced by overlong fasting while reading the book of Revelation.
* Par–ooz–sia – A divine appearance bringing about the end of the world in a slow, icky way.
* Par–oops–sia – Heresy propounded by some writers who forgot where to look for the book of the Revelation.
* KerygMama – A dynamic woman preacher (see also: Franklin, Aretha).
* Kantikle of Kanticles – Seldom-sung love song based on Immanuel Kant's “Critique of Pure Reason.”
* Synaptic Gospels – Fast paced cyber-version of the Gospels edited by Keanu Reeves and the cast of “The Matrix.” Features amazing special effects, including the Apostle Paul evangelizing faster than humanly possible.
* Dyslexic Gospels – Version that only makes sense read backwards.
* Pteredactor – A theological dinosaur known for biting large holes in the text.

Well! Nobody is quite as surprised as I am to be back here so soon. I do not appear to have my bookmarks from Firefox which I thought I had sussed. Apparantly not. Still haven't tried to get all my info back in Outlook but that can wait until tomorrow. Oh, and I have lost one of my email addresses. What was the password? Any ideas out there? But apart from all that, it is going fine so far. Many wires and cables to suss out and I appear to have many USB thingies left over, but no doubt that will all become clear in the next day or so.

I could do with a week off work now to sort it all out.

My new computer arrives this evening. Please pray for me and my files.

I may be gone for some time...

Just finished reading Rock me Gently (A true story of a convent childhood) by Judith Kelly. It was another scary nun story.

I wonder why I am fascinated by scary nuns? But there is something about abuse done in God's name which resonates with me. It takes a strong person to challenge it and I'm not sure that any of our churches have got it right even now.

There is abuse in the childrens homes; abuse of women by clergy; abuse of children by clergy; and bullying in our theological colleges and in our training. Is it any wonder that it keeps perpetuating itself? Who will stand up and make it stop?

Last night the Rev'd Kelvin Holdsworth from Bridge of Allan came to lead a Taize evening at St Peter's. Some of his choir came too and there were about 22 of us singing our wee hearts out and making a jolly fine noise too. We also sang one of my favourites which is not from Taize:

Take, oh, take me as I am
summon out what I shall be
set your seal upon my heart
and live in me.

So many happy memories attached to that wee chorus. Sr Gill and silk scarves and candles and Lladro. (You had to be there!) And a certain young and handsome deacon prostrating himself on the ground before ordination. And a friend who is a nun and uncertain about her future. Take heart, little ones, all shall be well and all manner of things shall be well.

It is Doors Open Day in Linlithgow today which means that you can get in to buildings that are normally not accessible to the public. We were open too but you can come into our wee church lots of times.

It is also the Linlithgow Folk Festival so to combine the two we had planet woman playing in our church. I must admit to being a little apprehensive at any group calling themselves planet woman, however they were fabulous. They played a mixture of Maori and Celtic folk music with a variety of instruments. I even bought the CD.

You can read all about them at
http://www.planetwoman.net

Since Christmas my computer has been ill. Many wiser people than I have declared it sick but been unable to offer a remedy. Finally we had a consultant out and he said it was just old. It is only 5! But it would seem that in computer years that is very old indeed.

It has had some antibiotics (new Norton Internet Security) and a replacement joint (new disc drive) and still it takes 20 minutes to get going in the morning. I think it may be arthritis. Now it has taken to having a few mini-strokes and I am worried that one of these times it is not going to recover.

I am listening to its stories and recording them on cd so that when it does finally go to that great place in the sky I will have something to remember it by. And I shall tell these stories to the new computer I have just ordered so that it too knows the history. This is not easy but I know it will be worth it in the end. But oh! there are so many stories.

I have been added to the list of other blogs on the Scottish Christian website. (Look under Weblog)
http://www.scottishchristian.com

It's a good website and you can find all the latest news from all the churches and more.

It was my birthday yesterday - (and also that of Our Lady). My most special moment was to receive two cards from my sons. In the past they have either forgotten, not had enough money, not seen it as terribly important, drawn me something on a piece of paper while I sat there watching or bought me a sympathy card because that was all they could find in the late-night garage. Despite pleas of "I dont mind if I dont get a present - all I want is a card!" they have just never seen this part of birthdays as being terribly necessary. But this year I got one from each and I was soooo pleased.

It was a normal working day for me: pew sheets, photocopying, typing up reviews, planning a sermon, doing my expenses, answering emails, and a meeting in the evening in South Queensferry. One of my little flock had found out it was my birthday and brought a huge chocolate cake (with a church candle on it!). A lovely end to the day.

Today I found this:
http://www.bohnsplace.com/betty_butterfield/Betty%20Butterfield%20-%20EPISCOPALIANS.mov
and it made me laugh. A lot.

Picked up B this morning to bring her to church. B is in a nursing home since her husband died earlier this year and as she was once a nurse herself is keeping them all organised. I asked her if she had ever driven and she said, "No, my husband once tried but that way led divorce."

I commented that a few women I knew of her age had learned to drive during the war. "Oh no," she said, "I got to ride in the back of ambulances. The worst time was during the Clydebank blitz. I got to sit up the front then with my tin hat on!"

It occurred to me again that these little old ladies that sit in church Sunday after Sunday (and at weekdays too) who look so sweet and innocent have very scarey stories to tell. Recently I took my mum for an appointment at the new Royal Infirmary in Edinburgh. Along one corridor there are magnificent texts carved into large pieces of wood and they contain memories which nurses and doctors have of the old Royal Infirmary at Lauriston Place. They speak of draughty corridors, and ghostly presences, and camaraderie in the nurses' home. They are a wonderful way of incorporating the old building with the new.

We must listen to these stories before they are forgotten. Perhaps we should have a project at church (or wider?) to get these war-time memories written down and maybe use them for Remembrance Sunday. They have far more to say than I ever could. Any volunteers?

My No 1 son is about to start at Edinburgh University doing English Literature. He wanted to do joint English/Scottish Lit but mucked up the form so will have to defer that for a year. He got his reading list and I have offered to buy them for this upcoming birthday. Here is what 1st year students will be studying:

Nights at the Circus by Angela Carter
White Teeth by Zadie Smith
The New Penguin Book of Scottish Verse
Hamlet, Macbeth and The Tempest
Confessions of a Justified Sinner by James Hogg
The Jew of Malta by Christopher Marlowe
Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte
Epicoene by Ben Jonson
Oranges are not the only fruit by Jeanette Winterson

It occurred to me that English Lit has changed since I was at school. And how refreshing to see so many women authors on the list. Unlike the BD at Edinburgh!

A friend recommended White Teeth but I haven't got around to reading it yet. It can stay on the list of books to read when I have time. It's a long list.

Just back from the Scottish Guild of Servers AGM at St Michael & All Saints in Edinburgh and what a glorious affair it was. Lots of smoke, lots of lace and impressive gliding about the sanctuary. Five of my little flocks came too and were admitted as members of the Guild. The Bishop of Edinburgh preached a wonderful sermon at the Mass about the merits of serving at the altar. And Basil Fawlty was mentioned too! I think if I was still a server (well I am still one I suppose) I would have found it very affirming.

There were about 100 people there and that included 70 servers. Brother Barry gave a speech about the growth in the Guild - 53 new members in the past year. When I first joined the Guild I don't think there were 53 members in total. Certainly the turnout was about half what we saw today. I think its good that it is having a revival - however I do feel that it could be brought a bit more up to date. If we want to encourage more young people to join then we need to do something with the liturgy. I wonder how many of those present today regularly use the 1970 liturgy at an eastward facing altar and sing the Office (full of 'he's thee's and thou's, not to mention the linen ephod) in plainsong. New blood! That's what's needed.

Now I have to write an article for Inspires on the whole event. Hmm. What were the highlights? Who had the longest lace? Who had the blackest shoes? Who managed a deep genuflection and sprang back like a tightly coiled spring? Who managed not to cough as the incense passed by? Oh so much to consider.

Day off today and I have:
taken the dog for a dawdle,
filed some mail,
done some shopping for the boys (aka the locusts) coming tonight,
tried to install a USB data cable for my gorgeous VK530 pink phone but couldnt figure it out at all and have given up (all I wanted was a new tune),
hoovered up the crumbs from the dog's snacks,
typed up one of the CMD 1-3 (that's Continuing Ministerial Development for the first three years of ministry of which I am the Diocese of Edinburgh's co-ordinator) reviews that I did yesterday and before I forgot it all,
discussed how blogs have changed the world with a friend,
answered some emails,
did a washing and put the dishwasher on,
made some Mars Bars cake but without the recipe - and that was a mistake,
bought and listened to Madeleine Peyroux' CD 'careless love' which I liked.

I could do with a day off to recover from my day off.