11 January 2009 First Sunday after Epiphany

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BAPTISM OF OUR LORD

11^thJanuary 2009

Graphics and cartoons & liturgical material appear only in the printed version

THE RECTOR’S CLANGER

The theatre company at Halls Gap performed a play one year that among its characters contained a bishop, a rector and a curate. At one stage in the play the bishop was required to appear and ask the rector how he was doing in his new parish. The correct answer should have been: “Oh, we make out alright, Bishop. The stipend is a bit small, but my wife helps out. She runs a small tea-shop in Horsham”. However, at one particular matinee, when the Bishop asked the above question the Rector answered with great aplomb “Oh, we make out alright, Bishop. The stipend is a bit small, but my wife helps out. She runs a small whore-shop in Teasham”. The audience, inattentive as country audiences often are, did not notice, but the Bishop and the Curate collapsed in what appeared to be inexplicable mirth.

WHY ME?

We have no right to ask when sorrow comes, “Why did this happen to me?” unless we ask the same question for every moment of happiness that comes our way. Anon

FROM THE RECTORY

We like to let folk know how things progress with Margaret, this not least because to do so means that interested folk are freed from having to ask and we are freed from having to respond over and over again to concerned enquiries. What is more, folk kept in ignorance have little recourse other than to speculation and supposition. So occasional pew sheet reports are less self-importance or self-obsession than common sense!

Margaret’s cancer, in the mysterious ways that cancers often seem to, appears to have progressed a little. Although not rampant, as far as we can tell, its toxins, baleful particles or whatever do appear to be seriously inhibiting her appetite and causing nausea. The old tumours in various boney areas, thanks to well targeted radiation, cause little problem with pain at present, but a constant and very nasty headache appears to be related to a couple of new small tumours in the upper spine which are to be palliatively radiated on Monday or Tuesday this week at Peter MacCallum in Melbourne. Hospice continues to provide wonderful and wise support, as does Margaret’s doctor, Ursula Russell. Daughter Rachel is around for at least a little while longer to assist, distract, amuse and divert, and the parish continues to be very supportive, as indeed does the diocese. The visit of the Bishop and his wife and their quiet luncheon with us was a great pleasure and solace to Margaret as well as to Rachel and myself.

Margaret herself remains accepting, uncomplaining, faithful and a considerate, model patient, tolerant even of a household that no longer runs with anything like the efficiency that it used to under her guidance and care. We still manage to cock a regular snook at death, disease and tragedy with laughter and fun, and the “lachrimae rerum” (the tearfulness of things) is allowed to overwhelm us only now and then, usually in private, because in the Rectory reticence is more favoured than any form of emotional incontinence!

Many thanks for all the Christmas gifts, cards well wishes, expressions of love and support and all offers of help. We feel well loved and appreciated. Our parish is a good place to be in such a situation.

FOR THE PHILOSOPHICALLY

MINDED TO PONDER

Simone Weil regarded miracles as Hindus do, events too banal to be interesting. Besides, the Western notion of miracle is tied to a scientific world view with which miracle is incompatible because there are no grounds sufficient for its affirmation or denial. Devoted to the Platonic separation of good and necessity, she denied that there could be any overt divine interference in the contingent world of relative good and evil. This is the basis of her attacks on Judaism’s intrusive God and his manifestations of power. Good can be present in necessity only covertly, infinitesimally: God is incarnated as a slave and killed as a criminal.

Thomas R Nevin “Simone Weil” Chapel Hill page 263

GOLDEN BELLS AND POMEGRANATES (10)

Canon David Neaum 1912-2001

It took us about 8 hours to cover the 35 miles from Tristan da Cunha to Nightingale island and as we drew nearer Nightingale had a quiet beauty and none of the harsh appearance of the other two islands in the archipelago. It was lush and green and as the evening was coming on the sky was filled with millions of gulls - mostly ‘Mother Carey’s Chickens’ as they were called. I looked for a beach but there was none. “Where do we land?” I asked, and was told that we landed on a flat rock on to which the boat was drawn to be safe. “Be careful not to drop in between the boat and the rock or you will be crushed” I was told. What a life for an ageing parson of 40 years, I thought. As you will be aware, I did not fall between the boat and the rocks but it was quite a to-do to judge the right moment to step from boat to land. When our crew were all ashore we waited until the sea surged level with the rock and with a long haul pulled the boat on to, and a distance up, the slope where it stayed safe from the sea during our 4 days on the island. It was the light construction of the boats - canvas over a wooden frame - that made it possible, and indeed ideal, to fulfil the island’s demands.

Mollymauks and penguins

Gathering up our belongings we carried them to a small terrace lined by small huts, one for each boat. My crew told me to go and have a look round while they prepared an evening meal. The island had 2 peaks, one lower than the other and between them an incredibly green valley which looked perfect for walking, for much of it was covered with grass instead of the usual ‘Tussock’ which grew up to 2 metres and had leaves sharp enough to cut the flesh. The wide valley was interspersed with hard mud flats covered with little mud and grass ‘castles’ about 16 inches high and each with a large roosting bird on top: the Tristanites called them Mollymauks, but they were the lesser albatross, magnificent birds the size of a goose with a four inch beak, hooked at the end, and eyes that said ‘don’t come too near!’ - they were sitting on the eggs, some of which we had come to steal. Between where I stood and the sea was a large expanse of flat rock, solid with the small rock-penguins with golden tassels - hundreds, no, thousands of them, each sitting or rather, standing over its one or two eggs. The beauty of the place is beyond my ability to describe. I then turned to the other direction and walked past the huts and landing place to find a huge cave down the wall of which flowed the only fresh water on the island - one reason that it was inhabited only by sea birds.

Then came supper (Tea?) time and I was handed a large soup plate, cold and full of food. I was still feeling a little queasy but on taking the plate was told that my crew had brought an onion specially for me (it was a time when onions were almost unobtainable). I took my place, knife and fork and went over to the rocks where the penguins were, sat down and looked at what I had received. On top were about fifteen of the small island potatoes, under them four mollymauk eggs overlapping and covering everything else. Under them were what I was told were ‘cut-ups’ - the breast and wing of the petrels that the lads had caught, skinned and cooked. To me they looked like cinders with a white bone stuck through. All this lot rested on a solid base of rancid cooking fat with bits of white onion sticking up from its sickly bed. The very sight of the whole was enough to make a starving man decide he was not hungry. I looked around and saw that the others were all some distance away and none was looking my way. I put the potatoes on to the rock and quickly flipped the huge, deep orange coloured eggs among the penguins; then came the ‘cut-ups’ turn: one by one they too went among the penguins. With my fork I managed to scrape the fat and onion into a small cleft in the rock and cover it with small stones. I then returned to the potatoes to the plate and ate them with relish. Fortunately no one had observed this manoeuvre and taking my plate back when empty I was able to fulfil the needs of courtesy by congratulating the cook!

Parson as cook

But then came the awful thought; had I to suffer such food for the remainder of our stay on Nightingale? I had a brainwave when we sat talking together as the sun went down. I asked of the work they all must do while we were there: first, to fill their boxes with petrel eggs, then to ‘render fat’ and lastly to fill bags with guano for the potato patches back home. I said “I had better make myself useful by taking over the cooking and washing up to leave you all free for your tasks.” This offer was accepted eagerly as they really thought that such work was for women (and Parsons!) and not having brought any of the women with us it was a good thing if ‘Father’ took their job. Having taken a sack full of tinned goods I was able to prepare fairly decent meals for them and escape having to eat ‘cut-ups’ myself. One of the fish that was very good eating was ‘Five-finger’ - so named because of the markings on its body. I enjoyed sitting and catching them from the landing rock and cooking them.

Having managed to arrange for myself to be the cook I became interested in the other jobs being performed. We all went to the grassy valley. Easy walking did I say? It was almost impossible to walk at all because the petrels nest in holes and tunnels and the whole valley was a honeycomb with no place to put the foot. Many of the eggs lay on the ground as there were not enough burrows to accommodate the millions of birds that had darkened the sky as they returned home at sunset. A great number of these uncovered eggs had been eaten by the skua gulls, so hands had to be put down the holes and were often well bitten in the process. But in a short time the boxes were all filled and the second part of the work had to be done - the rendering of fat and the subsidiary job of salting down the ‘cut-ups’ in small barrels that had been brought with us.

Bird slaughter

The catching of the birds was too easy and would have been horrible had it not been a necessary part of the Tristan diet. Most sea birds need an eminence to mount to enable them to take off, so the men sat on a piece of rising ground and let the birds run up their bodies. As the birds ran up so were they caught and killed until the men sat surrounded, almost hidden, by the heaps of dead birds while the remainder flew off to their day's fishing. The place chosen was on a rising cliff edge which immediately became the skinning place so that the unwanted skins could be thrown over the edge into the sea which was soon littered with feathered deadness - a horrid sight.

At this season the birds were covered with a centimetre thick layer of fat, so all the carcases were taken down to the ‘rendering’ site near the landing rock. The fat was stripped and put into tins set over many fires while the breasts and legs were put into layers of salt in the barrels to be taken back home for eating in winter. I watched for a little while, but the sight and stink soon drove me off to wander round the island which, in that spell of beautiful weather, was enchanting. Never again should I see such a wealth of seabird life nor such huge rookeries of penguins.

With the eggs collected, the fat rendered down and the ‘cut-ups’ salted, there remained the collecting of guano. The weather held, in fact it held too well for the wind was unfavourable for the return to Tristan. Days passed, each with a two hour confabulation to decide if it were possible to sail. What is more, food that I called edible was getting short. I was told that in years past there were times when it was two months before it was possible to return. However, after eleven days there was a change of wind, not enough to get to Tristan, but just right for Inaccessible Island from where it was more likely to encounter a wind that would get us home.

Inaccessible island

This was a trip of about twenty miles to the North East and the boats, being heavy laden, rode more smoothly. The island was visible all the way - like Ayers Rock stuck in the sea, only much bigger. The whole island stands about 2000 feet high with a narrow stony beach all round and one place, on the West, from which it was possible to walk to the high plateau. We landed on the lee side, drew up the boats, unloaded and then up-turned them to be our shelters while we were on the island. There were some wild sheep on the plateau and while some of us piled boulders around the sides of the boat a few of the young men climbed up to the plateau to find and kill a sheep.

Our building work done and a small gap left for getting under and into the up-turned boats we went beach-combing for anything the sea had washed up. There were many planks (highly prized by the islanders as there is no building wood left on Tristan) and a 44 gallon drum, rusty but full of something solid. The only way to find out what was in it was to cut off the top, so a hammer and chisel were soon found. Then treasure indeed - it was a barrel of beef dripping which was divided among all the families on our return.

It was a beautiful sunset and as it grew dark we waited and waited and waited for any news of the lads on the plateau. Eventually I got tired and hungry and prepared a meal of bully and potatoes for my crew. Then I made up my bed on the pebbles inside the boat and was falling gently to sleep only to be awakened by a crashing noise. I crawled outside quickly and was in time to see a sheep's carcase tumbling down the rock-side, through the tussock and landing about fifty metres from the boats. Not being fond of butchering I returned to bed only to be disturbed a couple of hours later by one of the lads bringing me a plate of rather tough chops which were very welcome for sea air increases the appetite. I asked what had happened to the liver and on being told it was saved for the 'dorgs' (as they called dogs) I asked for it to be put aside for breakfast instead. Came morning and we had a lovely breakfast of sheep’s liver fried in beef dripping. (No fish oil if I could help it! )

As the wind was still contrary we spent the day on top of the island, all hills and dales, reminding me of North Derbyshire and making me feel a little homesick. We walked right round as there were no deep gulches and returned the way we had come - by the more gentle path on the West. After the super-abundance of sea-bird life on Nightingale the almost total absence of such on Inaccessible was most noticeable.

During the night the wind changed and at dawn all was hurry and bustle getting the boats into the water, loading them and setting off. The return trip was delightful for we were under sail all the way and the movement was not 'sick-making' at all. Home was in sight all the way, but apart from the low green plateau where the village stood, how formidable the island looked with its bare cliffs and foaming seas at the foot. (To be continued)

GOOD OLD WILLIAM

“I concur

with everything you say,”

smiled William.

“Oh yes,

I concur with that,

I agree.”

“If that’s the general feeling

You can count on me.

Can’t say fairer.”

Good old

William, the Concurrer.

Roger McGough

IN GOOD HANDS

Wherever night falls

The earth is always

There to catch it.

Roger McGough

(from “Collected Poems” Penguin ISBN 0-141-01455-5)

CONGRATULATIONS

Anniversaries

Tiffany and Scott Chandler. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Mon 12^th Jan

Birthdays

Joan O'Reilly. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Wed 14^th Jan

CENTENARIAN

Especial congratulations to Doreen Shevlugin who celebrated her 100^th birthday on December 30^th.

CHRISTIAN MEDITATION

There are Christian meditation sessions on Mondays at 7.30pm in the Den during January. If you come along you will be made most welcome.

EMAIL ADDRESSES PLEASE

If you are happy to give us your email address, please email it to the Parish Office.

ANNUAL GENERAL MEETING

As usual the parish AGM takes place on Ash Wednesday, which this year is the 25^th of February. We need all reports by the 11^th of February please if they are to be included in the booklet of reports. Nomination forms for Wardens, Councillors, Synod Representatives and Parochial Nominators will be available in a week or two. Please do consider offering yourself for any of these positions if you consider yourself suited to them.

ORTHODOX BAPTISM OF JESUS

The Orthodox celebration of the “Baptism of Jesus” will take place this year on Tuesday 20^th of January at 9.00am. This is a big day for our Macedonian parishioners, but others are welcome and encouraged to attend too. The Icons in the Church are auctioned off temporarily at the end of the service and there is a procession out to the fountain where the waters are blessed and a cross thrown in for the youngsters to compete for.

CHOIR SCHOLARSHIP

One of the great delights of the past year has been getting to know Emily Shields (and her mother Jenny) Emily was the first recipient of the St Augustine’s Choral Scholarship and both she and her mother have played a huge part in the life of the choir, both musically and socially. I intend offering the scholarship to her for a second year and hope that she will be able to accept it. Should there be any other suitable candidates we can manage another. So if you know of anyone, let me know.

CONFIRMATION

With a new bishop installed there will be a Confirmation Service this year. Anyone interested in being confirmed, please let the clergy know.

DATES FOR THE DIARY

Jan 13^th. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Children’s Church

Jan 20^th . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Orthodox “Baptism of Jesus” 9.00am

Jan 27^th. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Baptisms

Feb 25^th . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Annual General Meeting

READINGS for 18^th January

1 Samuel 3:1-11, 1 Corinthians 6:12-20

REQUESTS FOR PRAYER

At the beginning of each month this list is cleared and ALL names need putting down again on the list in the narthex and signed in. No names should be listed without a person’s permission. The list for names of those to be prayed for is kept in the top drawer of the little plastic box of drawers on the narthex table.

Alison Baldwin, Liam Bognar, Betty Brereton, Kylie Butterfield, Barbara Carlyon, Nicky Cavill, Richard Goodfellow, John Green, Frank Harder, Sophie Mould, Margaret Neaum, Margaret Noble, Erol Noonan, Jan Riches, Kevin Richards, Peter & Eva Swindells, Heather Vines, Lorraine Vogul, Tracey, William, David, Brigid, Hilary, Carolyn, Nathan & Jayden, Rae & Kevin, Glenda, Amanda & Michael.

Anniversary of death: Jillian Bradford, Emily Pleming 11^th, Leslie Gribble, George Watkins, Susan Neff 12^th, Nicholas Auldrige, Percival Brooke 13^th, Margaret Tobias, Ethel Peters, Cyril Caldwell 14^th, Ron Taig, Joyce Stewart 15^th, Keith Dean, Colin Ferguson 16^th, Ernest Guyatt, Ilias Petcopoulos 17^th.

Duties for 18^th January 2009

Readers 8.30. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Heather Carlyon, Gwyn Cowland

Readers 10.30. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Andrea Fisher, Joan McCann

Servers 8.30. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Beth, Michelle

Servers 10.30. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Joan McCann, Sophie, Ben

Intercessors. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Bev Condon, Joan McCann

Euc. Assts 8.30. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Heather Fitzgerald, John Horder

Euc. Assts 10.30. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Jenny Pleming

Welcoming 8.30. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Joyce Cavill, Gwen Betson

Welcomers 10.30. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Jenny Moran, Margaret Johnson

Sidespeople 8.30. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Gwen & Merv Cowland

Sidespeople 10.30. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Alan Akers, Nola Brewer

Tea 8.30. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Shirley Dean

Welcoming Table. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Dorothy Cook

Mowing 3^rd . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Not this week

Duties for 11^th January 2009

Readers 8.30. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Jeanette Smith, Pat Griffin

Readers 10.30. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Nancy Noonan, Christine Evans

Servers 8.30. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Michelle, Beth

Servers 10.30. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Peter Lear, Dale Wells and Aaron

Intercessors. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Carole Henderson, Children

Euc. Assts 8.30. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Carole Henderson, Bev Condon

Euc. Assts 10.30. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Christine Evans, Greg Pestell

Welcoming 8.30. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Joy Campbell, Eileen Quaife

Welcomers 10.30. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Charlotte Brewer, Sandra Simonis

Sidespeople 8.30. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Trevor Batey, Joy Campbell

Sidespeople 10.30. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Charlotte Brewer, John Pleming

Tea 8.30. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Bev Reither

Welcoming Table. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Dorothy Cook

Mowing 17^th . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .John Pleming and Rick Coates

THIS WEEK IN THE PARISH

Monday 12^th December Rector’s day off

7.45am Mattins & Eucharist - Lady Chapel