2 January 2011 Second Sunday after Christmas

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SECOND SUNDAY OF CHRISTMAS

2^nd January 2011

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

CONVERSION

An Irishman turned up one day recently at a pub in Ireland and ordered three beers. He took them to a seat, set them down and polished them all off drinking a sip out of each one in turn. When he finished them, he came back to the bar and ordered three more. The bartender, a friendly and helpful fellow, said to him , "You know, a pint goes flat after I draw it, it would taste better if you bought one at a time." The Irishman replied, "Well, you see, I have two brothers. One is in America, the other is in Australia, and I'm in Dublin. When we all left home, we promised that we'd drink this way to remember the days we drank together. So I drink one for each o' me brothers and one for me self." The bartender admitted that this was a nice custom, and left it there. The Irishman became a regular in the bar, and always drank the same way. He ordered three pints and drank them, sip by sip altogether. One day, he came in and ordered two pints. All the other regulars took notice and fell silent. When he came back to the bar for the second round, the bartender said, "I don't want to intrude on your grief, but I would like to offer my condolences on your loss." The Irishman looked quite puzzled for a moment, then a light dawned and he laughed. "Oh, no, everybody's just fine". He explained, "It's just that me wife had us join that Baptist Church and I had to quit drinking. Hasn't affected me brothers though.

RETURNING TO ZIMBABWE (5)

(Andrew Neaum)

We were driven from the university chapel as much by rumblings from our bellies as from a surfeit of evangelical preaching and so made our way over to what appeared to be a modest supermarket nearby. Food was being sold from a counter in its wall, and on enquiring as to what was available we were immediately ushered inside to sit down between the serving counter and the very poorly stocked supermarket on hastily collected chairs.

African hospitality

One of the purposes of this warm welcome was to introduce us to a similarly privileged and seated fellow diner, a most impressive, bearded, slightly grizzled, quiet and reflective African man. The menu was limited to about three items and we chose chicken and rice, a large serving of which was soon presented to us with bright yellow cabbage and a banana chutney, the last interesting and not at all unpleasant. Our fellow diner turned out to be a lecturer in mathematics at the university. Because he was grizzle headed and bearded and therefore probably a near contemporary of mine and so a young man during the war of liberation, I asked him what role he had played in the struggle. He said that he had deliberately avoided it, making his way on foot to Botswana where, after six fairly difficult months, he had been able to arrange a trip to Britain obtaining his first degree with honour and ease and then moving on to the United States to obtain his doctorate.

It turned out that he had been taught Latin at school by one of my friends, Michael Stebbing, who was priested with me in Harare Cathedral in 1975, a passionate white Zimbabwean whom I had visited a month or two previously at Mirfield in Yorkshire. He is now a Community of the Resurrection monk and priest in deep grief over the evilly governed mess into which his homeland and mother diocese have fallen. He frequently visits Zimbabwe to initiate or manage imaginative programs and projects to improve the lot of the thousands of innocent sufferers from evil politicians and a despicable pretender bishop. Over our plates of chicken and rice his one time pupil informed Diana and myself that he had been Michael's star Latin student at school and had wished to do his degree in that language, but had been persuaded otherwise. I commented that higher Mathematics is an intriguing form of language in its own right and so the deprivation could not have been total. He whole heartedly agreed. He is still a weekly attending Anglican and he knew of and appreciated my father's role as an Anglican church leader in the late fifties, sixties and seventies. We were able to recall many common friends and acquaintances, and so our luncheon turned out to be one of those memorable meals where fellowship and communion are so realised by the sharing of good food and conversation that they transcend mere eating and talking. Our host, the man apparently in charge of the establish-ment and responsible for the hospitality we enjoyed was himself also an Anglican of a most jovial sort, and after the departure of the mathematician we reminisced for a while with him. He too was more than familiar with friends and acquaintances of my father.

After our meal we wandered the campus for a while longer, briefly visiting the library between whose unlovely, functional stacks I had so often drifted, and then we returned to our little car to head for St Mary's Church, Highlands, where, in the Rectory, I had lived throughout my four years of university and for two subsequent years as a teacher.

St Mary's Highlands

The church and its environs appeared reassuringly unchanged at first sight. The parish hall at the bottom of the hill was exactly as I remembered it, surrounded by great Jacaranda trees in full flower. The church likewise was much the same, though locked and so I could only inspect its interior through the keyhole, an ideally narrow picture frame perhaps for nostalgia's views. We then wandered alongside and past the church to what used to be the Rectory and my home, noting the Garden of Remembrance that my father had designed and the names of people interred there whom I had known.

The house is still owned by the parish, but is let out to tenants who graciously allowed us to wander around the garden. The outbuildings, a part of which was a room that I lived in as a student, were now the home of the parish secretary, a lovely woman who informed us a little about the sad politics of the place. The ersatz Rector lives in what used to be the Curate's house on the front side of the Church. He is one of the pretender bishop's appointments and so the congregation with its real priest has been forced to decamp to other premises, and the services at St Mary's are usually attended only by the usurper Rector and perhaps a friend or two. The secretary herself is employed by the real parish and priest and still maintains the parish office, housed in a room off the hall. She asked if we had seen the caretaker and gardener, Alex, who had been there a very long time and might remember me and so we went to find him. He did indeed remember me and what is more with what seemed to be great pleasure, though I have to say I did not remember him. His predecessor, a delightful fellow, had died one early afternoon while I was dining with my parents. Called by his frantic friend I had rushed off to see him, but when I went into his room to try to shake him awake he was already cold, having taken "muti" which had poisoned him, prescribed by a traditional healer. Alex must have been his successor, but as I no longer lived at home then and was only a visitor from theological college or from my own parish, I did not get to know him well enough to remember him.

The garden is now largely given over to the cultivation of vegetables, mostly maize, but remains a shady and pleasing place. The adjacent block of land to the old Rectory, which in our day provided a large and very productive vegetable garden, has long been sold and so the avocado pear tree and all the mango trees have long gone.

Alex opened the church building and the library next door, enabling us to revisit the choir pews in which I had first learned to sing bass on leaving boarding school. It was the splendid bass line of the Advent hymn "Lo he comes with clouds descending...." that first opened my ears and heart to the joys of parish choir singing. My mentor was a church warden and splendid fellow called Mike Joughin. We both belted that bass line out at the tops or our voices as if attempting to drown the beauty of the soprano melody with the equally beautiful, rolling melody that undergirded it. Mike Joughin was a great bon vivant, who smoked large cigars with gusto and loved beer, good food, laughter, horse racing, the Anglican Church and God. He used to give up beer for Lent and then would sink a bottle or two for breakfast on Easter morning.

The church had a deserted feel to it, and the little chapel added to it in my father's time, had a leak in its roof that had caused paint to peel off. In the library next door to the church, which was built after our time and in memory of Mike Joughin, there was a portrait of my father on display, as well as a photograph of Mike.

St Mary's Highlands is not the loveliest of churches, but has a tower, is fairly prominent on a low hill and is rendered brick both inside and out. It has played a large part in my life. My sister, brother and self were married there and in it I was deaconed. My mother played its organ and the legacy of my father's seventeen year tenure is huge. It is sad to see it a victim of the machinations of evil prelates, politicians and priests, but the history of the Church is long, and the glory that is the Anglican Church at its best was born in the machinations of evil prelates, politicians and priests. It will survive and flourish once more eventually I am sure.

Forced evictions

As we got into the car to leave we noticed two men in dog collars walking past, and divining that they were the minions of the pretender bishop Kunonga I resolved to ignore them. Diana, however, suggested that I approach them to be charitable and so I did. One of them appeared very shifty of eye, the other far more amiable. I greeted them in a friendly fashion and on my enquiring, they admitted to being followers of the dread Kunonga. I asked them if there was any hope of reconciliation between the two factions in the diocese, suggesting that if de Klerk and Mandela could get together and make sweet peace, surely an Anglican Diocese could. They demurred and we parted company a little awkwardly.

Before leaving we decided to ask the parish secretary if she could give us the address of Mike Joughin's widow and so I returned to her residence that was once mine to ask her. I found her in a daze. The two ersatz priests had visited both her and the tenant of what had used to be the rectory and served them with eviction orders! She showed me the document which went as follows (its infelicities of style and grammar I leave uncorrected):

Re: Notice To vacate Church House

I write to inform you that your occupation of our house is not sanctioned by the owner of the property you are therefore advised that since you don't have a lease with us, you are hereby advised to vacate the house with immediate effect and pave way for our priest.

You must consider this issue seriously with urgency. Failure to comply will lead to your forced eviction by any means.

For further information, kindly contact the undersigned.

May God Bless You.

Yours in Christ.

Rev. A. Chisango

Diocesan Secretary.

She was in a state of shock and had nowhere to go. Because Kunonga is a Mugabe goon he has the backing of the police who, if shown the eviction order, were likely to enforce it indeed. I am only half glad that I did not know of this document when I talked to the two imposter priests for I would have been unable to resist taking issue with them. (To be continued.....)

ORIGINS

Theologists are always bothering about the origin of evil, but evil is just natural behaviour; it is the origin of human goodness that is really so extraordinary and inexplicable. Kingsley Martin

IN OR OUT

An optimist stays up until midnight to see the new year in. A pessimist stays up to make sure the old year leaves. Bill Vaughan

STOCKHAUSEN

The cartoon on the front page of the printed version of this pew sheet refers to Karlheinz Stockhausen, an avant garde composer who died in 2007. His music, though widely influential and admired by the knowledgeable (and pretentious) is largely unlistenable to by those of us who love melody and beauty in music. Sir Thomas Beecham when asked "Have you heard any Stockhausen?" is alleged to have replied, "No, but I believe I have trodden in some".

CONGRATULATIONS

Birthdays

Lesley Wells Sunday 2nd Jan

Kay McGregor Sunday 2nd Jan

Jeanette Smith Tuesday 4th Jan

Bev Martin Thursday 6th Jan

DUTY ROSTERS

Duty rosters (servers excepted) are on display in the narthex.

CHRISTMAS AGAIN

On Friday the 7th of Jan. at 8.00pm we celebrate the Orthodox Christmas with our Mace-donian brothers and sisters. All are welcome to attend and enjoy a celebration of Christmas without the commercialism that so easily ruins our Western Christian celebrations.

JANUARY

January is likely to be a quiet month with many of our normal activities in recess. However the Parish Office will be attended on and off so trouble us if necessary in order to find it no trouble at all.

HELEN'S HOUSEWARMING AND BLESSING

This is to be held on Sunday 9th January 2 - 4 pm. Please BYO glass! Nibbles and drinks provided. No gifts please. Details from Helen, the clergy or the church office.

MANY THANKS

On the last day of the year, a hot one, I went out on my bicycle to the hospital and noticed as I came through the gate that Norm Mitchelmore was cleaning out the stinking, mosquito infested, clogged fountain on the north side of the church. It is now working again thanks to his single-handed and noble effort. Diana and I had resolved to do the job ourselves that weekend. To be preempted gave us great joy. We hope in the near future to have the one on the south side working again too. Thank you Norm.

Many thanks too to Emily Shields who to my great delight has agreed to remain our Choral Scholar for another year. Given that she comes in all the way from Dookie this is a great committment as her school life gets busier and busier. Well done Emily and thank you. Emily's voice has developed into a very lovely one and she is a great asset to us. Many thanks too to Jenny her mother for her commitment and great musicality.

DATES FOR THE DIARY

Jan 9th Children's Church

Jan 9th Helen's House Blessing and Warming

Jan 19th Parish Council

Jan 27th Baptisms

Feb 20th Deadline for next "Outreach"

Feb 22nd Bishop in Council

Mar 9th Annual General Meeting (Ash Wednesday)

Mar 16th Parish Council at Dookie

Jun 3 & 4 Synod

July 17th Bishop's Visit

Oct 23rd Confirmation

HOBBIES

A true hobby is the achievement through play of something very close to the Creator's delight. Robert Capon

READINGS for 9th January

Isaiah 42:1-9, Acts 10:34-43

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.

Nicole Ackland, Norma Anderson, Jeffrey Andrewartha, Deb Bagley, Jan & Neville Black, Ian Carmen, John Green, Kath Grills, Frank Harder, Maximus Hendrych, Margaret Kidman, Hilder Lidgard, Albert Oxenbury, Isabelle Richards, , Suzanne Singh, Peter Swindells, Patricia Sparkes, Xavier Vale, David, Dawn, Robbie, James, Lynn, David & Judith, Stewart, Charles.

Rest in Peace: Charles Stanley Hopkins

Anniversary of death: Annie Davis, Linda Maskell, James Crosier 5th, Doris Woodcock, Lesley Rankin 6th, Dorothy Young, Frances McKendry, Catherine Lawrence, Lukas Price 8th.

Duties for 2nd January 2011

Readers 8.30 Norm Weaver, Carole Henderson

Readers 10.30 Christine Jones, Christine Evans

Servers 8.30 Beth and whoever can be mustered

Servers 10.30 Kasey and whoever can be mustered

Intercessors Victoria Heenan, Nancy Noonan

Euc. Assts 8.30 John Griffin, Carole Henderson

Euc. Assts 10.30 Jenny Pleming, Greg Pestell

Welcoming 8.30 Judy Lloyd, Pat Griffin

Welcomers 10.30 Nola Brewer, Jenny Moran

Sidespeople 8.30 Joe Pearson, Norm Mitchelmore

Sidespeople 10.30 John Pleming, Alan Akers

Tea 8.30 Bev Reither

Mowing 1st Jan Norm Mitchelmore, Alan Jeffery

Duties for 9th January 2011

Readers 8.30 Heather Pearson, Pat Griffin

Readers 10.30 Jenny Moran, Samantha Conway

Servers 8.30 Michelle, Beth

Servers 10.30 Frank, Bethany, Sophie

Intercessors Pat Griffin, Children

Euc. Assts 8.30 Bev Condon, John Horder

Euc. Assts 10.30 Christine Evans, Greg Pestell

Welcoming 8.30 Eileen Quaife

Welcomers 10.30 Frank Steen, Sandra Simonis

Sidespeople 8.30 Trevor Batey, Joy Campbell

Sidespeople 10.30 Charlotte Brewer, Nola Brewer

Tea 8.30 Shirley Dean

Mowing 17th Not this week

THIS WEEK IN THE PARISH

Monday 3rd January Rector's day off

7.45am Mattins & Eucharist - Lady Chapel