I've had a great day. The best day I can remember for a long while. I spent it in a largish greyish room with a large data projector that took a worrying half hour to show any pictures and twenty or so young people sitting around on chairs and lying on the floor. Oh yes, and a half dozen or so clergy and adult lay leaders. I talked to them about God, and somehow the thoughts and intuitions I had gathered up over the previous 24 hours shaped themselves into a coherent conversation about the Father, The Son and The Holy Spirit which ran all morning and into the early afternoon. These were an astonishing bunch of young people, and they had been well led as a group by Lynda Paterson and Peter Beck from Christchurch Cathedral, as well as the chaplains of Christ's and St. Margaret's colleges. As a group, they listened. They asked intelligent and perceptive questions. They made searching, and at times frank comments. They talked to each other with respect, enthusiasm and focus. They cracked jokes and clowned around. Three of them were the offspring of colleagues I have known and respected for years, and it was a bit uncanny how they resembled their parents in every possible way. One of them talked to me over lunch about how he listens to records instead of CDs and he likes to go to a second hand shop in Christchurch and buy English progressive rock from the 1970s - the very stuff I listened to when I was his age. Several asked about call and vocation. At the end of the day they made a speech thanking me for being there, but it was me who was grateful, and it was me that gained most from the day. It's been a while since I have led that sort of workshop and I had almost forgotten how much I enjoy it. Mostly though, being in the company of young people who are faithful and intelligent about what they believe is a very invigorating and reassuring experience. Who knows what shape the church will be in in 30 years time, but I got a small glimpse of it this afternoon and the news is all good.
This poem captures it perfectly Camino. The way forward, the way between things, the way already walked before you, the path disappearing and re-appearing even as the ground gave way beneath you, the grief apparent only in the moment of forgetting, then the river, the mountain, the lifting song of the Sky Lark inviting you over the rain filled pass when your legs had given up, and after, it would be dusk and the half-lit villages in evening light; other people's homes glimpsed through lighted windows and inside, other people's lives; your own home you had left crowding your memory as you looked to see a child playing or a mother moving from one side of a room to another, your eyes wet with the keen cold wind of Navarre. But your loss brought you here to walk under one name and one name only, and to find the guise under which all loss can live; remember you were given that name every day along the way, remember you were greeted as such, and you neede
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Mix fun, thoughtful, intelligent, and caring youth who look deeper at the world around them with hope and with insight and respect, along with a healthy Christian outlook, and you get a very bright tomorrow.
Sounds like the day was a simply awesome!
J.
I just got back from my weekly work at my son's primary school, where I volunteer as a reading tutor.
The kids I work with are those who have been identified with reading difficulties. I love getting to know the kids as individuals, and learning how to spark their interest in, and love for, reading.
Sometimes it is simply a matter of finding the right book. Or it can be reading aloud and laughing over ridiculously outdated illustrations.
Whatever we teach, the key to success is connecting with those we're teaching, and remembering that we have as much to learn as we have to offer :-)
Thank you again,
Bosco
(Chaplain, Christ's College)
I know that you loved Iona. Would you very kindly remember me and a group of pilgrims from Bramhall, UK, as we make retreat there from 6-12 May ?
http://simonmarsh.org/2010/05/04/iona/
Thanks, peace and continuing joy to you.
Simon
Peter
PS Surely not as good-looking ...:)