Hi I'm really glad you've been able to continue to read this story - I'm enjoying it being read to me ! Also I just wanted to tell you that many years ago I read your other books about the monks .I don't normally cry reading books but was so moved by the story based around the infirmary As a nurse it really resonated with me - the kindness&care shown & your descriptions were so beautiful I wept . I often think when doing the unpleasant jobs of what Jesus said about when you do it for the least of these my brethren you do it for me - what a privilege ! Thank you for your time each day that you give to us & for your prayers xx
Hello, Bev! Waving! How lovely of you to take the time to stop by and write to me. I'm so pleased you're enjoying hearing the story. So far I have not heard back from either publisher about permissions to read from either this book or the one before, so I've reinstated the videos I took down and am continuing with this one. I expect they'll be in touch in the course of time. Yes, the work of personal care for infirm people is indeed a privilege. I've found that people involved in that aspect of nursing often don't realise what spiritual power it has. One has to be firm and practical, of course, and a sense of humour helps — but kindness, gentleness and patience are transformative. x
I wanted to scream at both Esme and Jabez, tell them to just 'say you love her/him' but that is not real life. I also appreciated your questions at the end about faith communities and our spiritual journey. I won't bore people with the details but it is a pertinent question for me right now. I have enjoyed The Campfire Church a lot, more so than watching my own church services online. Thank you for these readings and also for the work you do for the online services. May you be well too. x
In 2006, I married Tony, and moved away from my family, work and home in Hastings to live with him in Aylesbury near his work in Oxford. I was lonely there, and social interaction online was just starting to take off on the internet. I joined an online church called St Pixels, which opened my eyes to how we could use online settings to create something that felt like church — with participation and conversation and a real sense of gathering, as well as music and addresses. Members of St Pixels also had the option to have their own blog on the website. That church has closed but the friendships made there have lasted — my St Pixels friends are now friends on Facebook. So when lockdown came and we could no longer go to church, I had the advantage of already knowing how it was possible to do online church in a way that replicated what it means and feels like *to the congregation*. Most online church I've come across is structured from the point of view of the *leader* (minister/priest). They think if you appear in your robes or at your lectern or with your worship leader + guitar zoomed in, that's what church *is*. And then there's the Zoom church where you are all there and speak as appropriate when it's your turn. But it leaves out the crucial bit of what you might call interaction in the pews, which is a *vital* part of church — being able to turn to your neighbour and crack a joke and have a quiet laugh at something, comment to the person next to you about something the preacher just said, be able to say to someone "Oh, this is my favourite hymn, we had it at our wedding etc". Without that confetti of humanity sprinkled through, it just doesn't feel like church. And I could see that Facebook was ready made for us with the structures that allowed everything to happen that usually happens on Sunday.
I had only ever made one or two short videos, and felt nervous of doing that, but I could see that for it to feel complete, we also needed the experience of looking at someone and listening to a voice — but with the option to comment with our own observations. Facebook is perfect. I think it has other options we haven't yet explored, too, but we'll see what the future holds for us at The Campfire Church, and how long it should continue — it has what Brother Roger of Taizé called "The power of the provisional".
When you said in your comment that you wouldn't bore us with the details "about faith communities and our spiritual journey" — bore me with them, won't you? Drop me an email or a Fb message. x
Oh yes Pen! It is definitely the 'confetti of humanity' that is so vital. Even if The Campfire Church is provisional, it has provided the encouragement and the praise that we have been told in the Bible to have in our faith communities and that is why it is so good. I will email you when I have a moment tomorrow. Days with Miss Iris are fun but full and I tend to leave the 'jobs' for when she has a day at childcare. I feel it is wrong for her to see me on my phone or technology and not present to her. Plus, she is just so full of words and delight in the world around her right now. She has discovered bridges, rivers and waterfalls and is a wee bit obsessed.
6 comments:
Hi I'm really glad you've been able to continue to read this story - I'm enjoying it being read to me !
Also I just wanted to tell you that many years ago I read your other books about the monks .I don't normally cry reading books but was so moved by the story based around the infirmary As a nurse it really resonated with me - the kindness&care shown & your descriptions were so beautiful I wept .
I often think when doing the unpleasant jobs of what Jesus said about when you do it for the least of these my brethren you do it for me - what a privilege !
Thank you for your time each day that you give to us & for your prayers xx
Hello, Bev! Waving! How lovely of you to take the time to stop by and write to me. I'm so pleased you're enjoying hearing the story. So far I have not heard back from either publisher about permissions to read from either this book or the one before, so I've reinstated the videos I took down and am continuing with this one. I expect they'll be in touch in the course of time.
Yes, the work of personal care for infirm people is indeed a privilege. I've found that people involved in that aspect of nursing often don't realise what spiritual power it has. One has to be firm and practical, of course, and a sense of humour helps — but kindness, gentleness and patience are transformative. x
I wanted to scream at both Esme and Jabez, tell them to just 'say you love her/him' but that is not real life. I also appreciated your questions at the end about faith communities and our spiritual journey. I won't bore people with the details but it is a pertinent question for me right now. I have enjoyed The Campfire Church a lot, more so than watching my own church services online. Thank you for these readings and also for the work you do for the online services. May you be well too. x
In 2006, I married Tony, and moved away from my family, work and home in Hastings to live with him in Aylesbury near his work in Oxford. I was lonely there, and social interaction online was just starting to take off on the internet. I joined an online church called St Pixels, which opened my eyes to how we could use online settings to create something that felt like church — with participation and conversation and a real sense of gathering, as well as music and addresses. Members of St Pixels also had the option to have their own blog on the website. That church has closed but the friendships made there have lasted — my St Pixels friends are now friends on Facebook.
So when lockdown came and we could no longer go to church, I had the advantage of already knowing how it was possible to do online church in a way that replicated what it means and feels like *to the congregation*. Most online church I've come across is structured from the point of view of the *leader* (minister/priest). They think if you appear in your robes or at your lectern or with your worship leader + guitar zoomed in, that's what church *is*. And then there's the Zoom church where you are all there and speak as appropriate when it's your turn. But it leaves out the crucial bit of what you might call interaction in the pews, which is a *vital* part of church — being able to turn to your neighbour and crack a joke and have a quiet laugh at something, comment to the person next to you about something the preacher just said, be able to say to someone "Oh, this is my favourite hymn, we had it at our wedding etc". Without that confetti of humanity sprinkled through, it just doesn't feel like church. And I could see that Facebook was ready made for us with the structures that allowed everything to happen that usually happens on Sunday.
I had only ever made one or two short videos, and felt nervous of doing that, but I could see that for it to feel complete, we also needed the experience of looking at someone and listening to a voice — but with the option to comment with our own observations. Facebook is perfect. I think it has other options we haven't yet explored, too, but we'll see what the future holds for us at The Campfire Church, and how long it should continue — it has what Brother Roger of Taizé called "The power of the provisional".
When you said in your comment that you wouldn't bore us with the details "about faith communities and our spiritual journey" — bore me with them, won't you? Drop me an email or a Fb message. x
Oh yes Pen! It is definitely the 'confetti of humanity' that is so vital. Even if The Campfire Church is provisional, it has provided the encouragement and the praise that we have been told in the Bible to have in our faith communities and that is why it is so good. I will email you when I have a moment tomorrow. Days with Miss Iris are fun but full and I tend to leave the 'jobs' for when she has a day at childcare. I feel it is wrong for her to see me on my phone or technology and not present to her. Plus, she is just so full of words and delight in the world around her right now. She has discovered bridges, rivers and waterfalls and is a wee bit obsessed.
Full-Time-Iris! O I understand! But thank you for your email about faith journeys that I just spotted in my inbox. x
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