This was an interesting funeral, not only because I quietly melted until I became just a little pool of liquid, clad as I was in robes with a stole around my neck. Well, quite a big pool of liquid actually. It was oppressively hot, even in church.
No, it wasn’t that at all. Neither was it the fact that the family were Christian Spiritualists, who seem to believe in reincarnation rather than resurrection.
I’d visited the family before the funeral and we’d arranged the order of service together. I was slightly nervous because three members of the family wanted to speak at the service in church, plus a eulogy by another family member. Then there were going to be three more speaking when we reached the crematorium after the church service. It all sounded a bit lengthy. There were CDs coming and going out (going out was ‘Time to say goodbye’, always a tear-jerker) and just one hymn, but even so, timing is a tad crucial when you need to get to the crem in time and it’s a 45 minutes drive away. I worried over how long the talks would be. When people are told not more than five minutes’, they generally take at least ten!
The first thing that changed was that the thirty or so family members following the coffin didn’t. Didn’t follow the coffin, that is, but decided to go into church ahead of the coffin. Still, that didn’t matter. Then in a quick, whispered exchange as we were entering church, they suddenly told me that no-one would be speaking except the son with the eulogy. Oops. That necessitated a bit of quick off-the-cuff jiggling with the order of service to make things fit. What I hadn’t bargained for was that the son was exceedingly brief with the eulogy, so that by the time fifteen minutes had passed, the service was nearly over. I filled in with a rather nice poem and hoped for the best.
It seemed to go OK. We got to the crem in plenty of time (even though one car got lost and we had to wait until they eventually found us) and the family seemed pleased afterwards. They were a lovely family, very close. Five children, endless grandchildren (the grandsons carried the coffin, which was cardboard) and even more endless great grandchildren.
Another good thing about funerals – you meet some really nice people.
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Just back from the next church fête. Well, not just back. Back in time to watch the entire Murray/Troicki match on TV and see our man win convincingly. I normally blog whilst watching TV – or at least, while the TV is on – but it’s so long since we in the UK had any real hopes at Wimbledon that everything as to stop to watch Murray play. We all hope Murray is going to win. A Brit winning Wimbledon! Now there’s a thought!
The fête was scheduled for 5.00pm with a BBQ, stalls and sideshows on the field outside the village hall. It’s been blazing hot all day so augured well, but at around 4.00pm the first rumbles of thunder began to roll around the heavens and within half an hour the heavens opened.
Everything was hurriedly shifted into the village hall, which became a bit crowded rather quickly. Especially around the hatch where large glasses of Pimms were being served.
I had been asked to open the fête and the churchwarden presented me with a lovely white orchid and a bottle of gin for my troubles. (We went on pilgrimage together to Iona last year and enjoyed our gin and tonics along the way….)
Hopefully they’ll make enough money to help pay for the roof – or the part of it that’s presently being repaired, we can’t afford the whole lot.
My last fête in that particular village and the last one in that village hall, as the village is converting the old Primary School into a fantastic new Village Centre. Sadly I shall have retired several months before it will be ready, but they’ve promised to invite me back for the opening.
I shall be there!
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We had a ‘Greater Chapter’ meeting last night, where the speaker was the Bishop of Norwich.
The Greater Chapter consists of all the active priests – stipendiary, non-stipendiary and Ordained Local Ministers – in our deanery, plus all the retired priests and all the Licensed Readers. A ‘Licensed Reader’ is like a trained lay preacher.
We have a Greater Chapter once a year in the evening, to allow all who work full-time to come. Usually about half turn up, but when the speaker is the Diocesan Bishop there’s always a full house. Honestly it’s not about wanting to be noticed by the Bishop. Honestly.
Actually he’s a really good speaker, very down-to-earth and with a good sense of humour. He spoke about church attendance through the ages and why the Church of England as an Established church is a bit different to other churches – we’re there for everyone, whether they attend services or not. He told us that in the 1851 census, people were asked about church-going. When the replies came in, the powers that be were so shocked to discover that only about 50% of the population attended church that the question was never again asked in a census until 2001. So habits haven’t changed all that much – there are still more people attending church on a wet February Sunday than belong to all the political parties combined.
That of course, brought us on to the present state of Parliament (he’s a Lord Bishop so sits in the House of Lords). He said that the atmosphere there since the Expenses Scandal is terrible – full of fear and suspicion – and that there’s a huge loss of confidence amongst MPs.
Can’t say I felt hugely sympathetic towards MPs. I’m so sick of hearing, “I haven’t broken any rules, therefore I haven’t done anything wrong.” They don’t seem to appreciate how morally wrong it is to take huge sums of money for their plasma screen TVs from the public during a recession when other people are having homes repossessed and don’t know how they’re going to pay their bills.
Anyway, it was a good evening for my final Chapter meeting but a bit sad saying farewell.
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Sold a load of stuff at the fête on Saturday, but brought a load home too. The churchwarden of the next church to hold a fête – on Saturday – came this morning with an estate car which we loaded to the rafters (do estate cars have rafters? Do any cars, come to that? But you get the picture.) Happily, this parish also runs jumble sales during the year, so will keep any unsold junk to recycle at other times.
Got rid of the contents of two filing cabinets yesterday. Started shredding, but it was so time-consuming and tedious that in the end Ed built a bonfire and we burned the lot. Very satisfying.
Had my last Governors’ Meeting at one of the primary schools last night, and am just off to my last Trustees Meeting of one of the many trusts with which I’m associated merely by dint of being Rector. They didn’t tell me when I came here ten years ago, that the Rector was automatically one of the Trustees for about fifteen trusts in the different villages. I soon found out.
After that I have an open-air funeral. very unusual, this, whatever you may see at the movies. Usually the service takes place in church, followed by a short time at the grave (about ten seconds – I exaggerate only slightly) for the final committal. But this family want the whole service at the grave. I use the word ‘family’ loosely. There is no family, just a solicitor and as far as I can make out, one friend who is coming down from London. Apparently the husband’s service was at the graveside, but as he was an atheist, I wasn’t involved in that. The wife was an Anglican, so they want a Christian service for her. Fortunately the sun is shining and it’s a blazing hot day, but it will still be a brief service. Folks don’t like to stand listening for too long.
Then it’s the last Alpha of this course, although we are going to meet again on Thursday to talk about homosexuality, at the group’s request. That should be fun. Actually I’ve really enjoyed these Alpha meetings, since the food has been terrific, the venue amazing and we’ve had some great discussions.
Busy time, though. Off now to the next meeting. See you again soon.
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This trying to pack up the entire contents of the Rectory in order to squeeze them into a much smaller bungalow which already contains all we want, is the fast track to madness.
But I had a brilliant idea. The first of the church summer fêtes starts today, so I arranged with the churchwarden to take down some Rectory Rubbish to hopefully sell. They tell me other people buy junk, so here’s hoping. Anyway, anything left over will be taken to the next fête at the next church, next week and so on. With six churches in six villages, there are plenty of fêtes all summer long, although by the time we get to the last fête it really will be entirely junk that’s left.
The frightening thing was that just clearing the windowsills in one room produced a boxful of unwanted ornaments, wooden puzzles, incense cones etc. I hadn’t realised just how much stuff we’d accumulated in ten years.
Youngest daughter used to manage a charity shop, so we’ve imported her for the afternoon. She’ll be great at dragging people over to view the Rectory Rubbish and encouraging them to buy.
Pity it’s back down to 13 degrees out there, but at least it’s too cold to entice people away to the seaside. An old-fashioned country fête in a lovely garden by the side of a paddock (for the pony rides) might be just what folk want on a day like today.
Will let you know whether or not it’s successful.
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