Govan and Linthouse Parish Church Magazine December 2013
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Govan and Linthouse Parish Church Magazine December 2013 View from the gallery, our two angels Our two angels are sat upstairs in Church, its Sunday Morning. Angel one: I’ve been thinking Angel two: Oh aye, I thought I heard more than just the creak of Catherine playing the organ. Angel one: flutters her wings and looks at angel two as if peering over glasses disapprovingly. Angel two: Okay. Okay. Honestly you would think after 27 billion years you would get my sense of humour by now...c’mon, I’ll tell you a wee joke. Angel one sighs. Angel two: How many Presbyterians does it take to change a light bulb? Angel one shakes her head, her patience strained. Angel one: I don’t know...how many Presbyterians does it take to change a light bulb? Angel two: It takes 4 Presbyterians to change a light bulb: 1 to change the bulb and the 3 to stand around talking about how much they missed the old one. Angel one: Aye. As if you haven’t told me that joke before in the last 27 billion years! Anyway I’ve been thinking. Do you think the folks in here have any idea of what they are capable of? Angel two: Do you mean, as they listen to the story of Jesus, and place their own story inside it? As they try to follow him, like? Angel one: Aye, that kind of thing. I mean, do you really think they get it? Angel two: What, that when they love each another as Jesus loved them, God is really there, I mean REALLY there. Angel one: That every time they do an ordinary thing for somebody that’s cranky... Angel two: Or listen to the same joke again and still smile... Angel one smiles. Angel one: That every time they do an ordinary thing for someone, with tenderness, that God is THERE. Do you think they get that? Angel two: mmm...I hope so because it would be some joke if they didn’t! Angel one: Speaking of good jokes – here comes the minister. Angel two: It’s the way you tell them! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Dec 13 Sidelines Watching both my grandsons beginning to get to grips with the concept of language, reminds me, once again, what an amazing thing communication is. One day babies make unintelligible sounds, the next you can hear the vowel sounds, and then the consonants - and you have speech, communication. It is a miracle each time and yet so commonplace that we take it totally for granted. Development books assure you that it will take place at a certain age, and for the most part, excepting those children who struggle with hearing difficulties, it kicks in time after time. We talk, we laugh, we express concern or unhappiness, we become social beings linked by concepts of language, by a shared understanding of what words mean. We take writing for granted as well, but it wasn’t always so. For millions of people throughout the ages, writing was a mysterious process. Only scribes in each society could read and write, could understand those mysterious symbols. In our medieval world, that role was fulfilled by monks, not just creating the letters, but painting in vivid colours the opening pages, the glorious capitals that opened each chapter. The curved or straight letters, the dots, the lines, added up to something glittering, burning on the page its essential truths. Writing was sacred. How could it be otherwise? It is only for recent generations, the products of a universal education, that writing has become a commonplace. Writing was sacred, a gift of God, and as such, it must be truth. The whole idea of the Word of God, still prevailing in the church, comes from this widely held belief that writing was a gift given only to the few, and through them the messages, the word, of God was conveyed to human beings. It was inevitable, I suppose, that as people came to regard writing as an ordinary, everyday thing, that it also became widely manipulative. The trial of those who ‘phone- hack to get their sensationalist stories is not just a journalistic betrayal, a blight upon a profession once respected, but it is a betrayal of the gift of words, of that shared understanding of what words are and can be. Even worse are those who use words for propaganda, for misinformation, for lies. For us the printed word, the written word, is no longer a thing of wonder. That makes it all the more important that we can distinguish between the bad and the good, between the words that inspire, or challenge, or affirm, and those that drag us into a bleak world of hopelessness. For those of us who imagine ( in my case it will be just imagination) that we will spend our Christmas break, cosying up to the fire with a good book, be careful what you read, and be careful how you read. Moyna. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Buildings Update Govan Cross Negotiations are continuing with the Royal Bank of Scotland about the dry rot in our stairwell and wall, and running through to their basement stairwell and wall. By the time you read this, I hope work will have begun to take out the affected timber and plaster and restore it. To date, all the areas have been checked and sprayed, so there is no danger of the rot spreading further. The delay has been the difficulty, for the bank, of having work done in sensitive parts of the bank branch, with minimum disruption and maximum security. Hopefully, we should have the use of our hall sometime in the New Year. However, I do stress the continued need for fundraising, in order to get this building wind and water-tight, so that further deterioration is prevented. I know it is a slow-process, frustratingly slow, but sealing the building, stopping further water damage, and undoing the water damage, has to be our main priority for the coming year. Govan Hogback Hogback 1 will be leaving for London, for the British Museum’s new exhibition wing, in January 2014. At the moment, the legal contracts about carriage, insurance, and return dates, are in the process of being agreed by all the parties concerned (I have signed them, and the British Museum, but Historic Scotland now have to view them and agree the terms). Anyone who happens to be in London between March and June of next year should try to go and see it. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Monday and Thursday nights – when I can – are nights for playing football. Yes, even at my age! It’s only 7 a side and some of the guys are older than me, some are younger. It’s great to be able to get out in the fresh air and do some exercise and afterwards have some fellowship. The way it works during the game is that each team member takes a shot in goal. Some are better than others, and it tends to be that the better ball players are rubbish in goal! One comment I heard recently was when one of the young guys took his turn in and quickly lost three goals, a team mate commented that he had rarely seen anyone so scared of the ball. It got me thinking of what courage is and who has it. Well, we all have courage don’t we? In a crossword I did recently the clue was ‘The absence of fear’, and the answer they wanted was ‘courage’. I have to disagree that courage is the absence of fear. I don’t think for a minute that any of the soldiers who are fighting in battles all over the world don’t feel fear, but they are courageous. I don’t believe that any of us who have overcome struggles in our lives have not first felt fear. Courage is not the absence of fear, it is the recognition of fear but the willingness to overcome it. The Christmas story is full of courage. Courage on the part of Mary who after getting the visit from the angel Gabriel, a visit that would have first alarmed her, said that she was the Lord’s servant and it should be just as the angel had said. Courage on the part of Joseph, who after getting this devastating news that Mary was pregnant, was able to say he would take her as his wife. The courage to go to Bethlehem and trust that they were part of God’s new plan of redemption for the world. Courage of the wise men who knew that Herod would plan to kill the baby. The Christmas story is full of courage and fear. Herod’s fear overwhelmed him, it consumed him, and rather than overcome that fear he goes down in history as the man who missed Christmas. If only Herod was able to be courageous. We make wise decisions when we recognise our fear but don’t allow our fear to hold us back. Fear turns to courage when we trust that the Lord of our Christmas has a plan not to leave us in a state of alarm but to take our fears and use them as ways to build us up. The great message of Christmas is that God has done something new and wonderful, and his commands through the Old Testament to not be afraid are fulfilled in us as we celebrate this wonderful gift of new life he gives us through the overcoming of our fear. What fears do you take into this season? Fears for yourself, your family and friends, your church? The God of Christmas says, ‘Don’t be afraid, trust me and your fears will turn to courage.’ I pray that this Christmas will be a time of great renewal for each of us personally, and as our courage builds we see growth in our church.