Pigeons
Last time, I reported the escalation in the pigeon war, but not the detail. My notice asking people not to feed the pigeons had been annotated, "Would you feel the same if this said, 'Please do not feed the homeless'?" and "One love", "Please feed everyone". Perhaps the author was not aware that we do feed the homeless? Or perhaps he was, and genuinely feels that there is no moral difference between pigeons and people? Certainly, it would be disgusting if language about vermin were applied to human beings, the homeless for instance, because all human beings are of intrinsic moral worth, but it is simply nonsense to pretend that there is a moral equivalence between pigeons and people. One love? What does that mean? I know it was a song, years ago (Bob Marley?) but what's it supposed to mean in this context? There was also a long disquisition on a laminated sheet, which referred to pinning and stapling things to trees as evidence of my contempt for nature, so that was attached to the tree by a large strap, which also secured a stuffed Minion to the treetrunk, a cruel and unusual punishment, in my view. I'm glad to say that someone else removed all that, and we seem to have reached a truce. After all, going out to feed the pigeons would be an unnecessary journey.
Meanwhile, Morgan Sindall continue to occupy parking spaces, but lots of people seem to think that parking regulations have become advisory for the duration. I don't think the Council has that view.
A Strange Land
I hope we didn't all catch the virus in those first few days when the supermarkets were packed with people buying loo paper. I was baffled by the sudden emptiness of the fresh vegetable shelves; how can you stockpile broccoli? The trouble was that it was all a bit wild west, and it was impossible to keep your distance, and the supermarkets seemed to have no mechanism for imposing order. Now it's all a bit better, but it can still be confusing; I encountered a queue outside Tesco at the weekend that appeared longer than it was because of a woman waiting for her husband to come out of the shop, and a beggar, both hanging around the line. Interestingly, most of the beggars have vanished, though there is often still one in front of the cash machine at the Chippenham.
Having a wife who used to be a ballet dancer has its moments. Fiona has discovered that Tamara Rojo, the director of English National Ballet, has started to live-stream company class (that's the session that all the dancers in the company do before they go off to their various rehearsals). This started with a number of dancers in a proper ballet studio, but now we are down to Tamara on her own in her kitchen. The first morning, I remarked that it did have the look of a kitchen where all the clutter had just been hidden away, not one that was naturally clinical. Fiona wondered whether Tamara had deliberately had the worktops fitted precisely at barre height, as ours are not quite the right height. Still, she found that you can hang onto the edge of the sink quite effectively, but it's a good thing we haven't got one of those trendy island units, as you could never do class then.
At St Peter's, we continue to try to feed people. No more sit-down meals, though the first time we tried to do that some of the regulars got in via the side door. The problem is that our clientele are not always easily impressed by rational argument, and the desire of some of them to be helpful can be overwhelming. So, we have had to be strict. Food banks are encouraged to continue, and that's what we have become. We are still getting deliveries from the Felix Project, and are parcelling food up and giving it out. If people have to line up they have to do so outside, two arms' lengths apart, and we're delivering some meals to people. At first I feared that Felix would have nothing, since they distribute stuff that the supermarkets can't sell, and as panic-buying was emptying the supermarkets I was afraid that would mean we would get nothing, but deliveries have continued, if a little eccentrically. Quail, anyone?
So now I have a You Tube channel (do subscribe). With the very considerable assistance of a Lunch Club volunteer I discovered how easy it is to live-stream. I was fussed about getting a decent webcam and so hurtled over to John Lewis (when you still could) only to discover that they had sold out, including online. Enquiries revealed that there seemed to be none to be had anywhere in the south of England. A very kind friend then retrieved her webcam from her mother and sent it to me by post (which was being delivered then) but by the time it arrived I had already done it once using the camera and microphone built into my laptop, and found the results acceptable. After all, who wants to see me in HD? Having got it to work once means that my fear of the technology is a strong disincentive from changing anything now, though I'm sure it can be improved. We shall see. Someone else asked me how to do it, and I had to admit that I couldn't explain because it was really very easy and I didn't remember what I clicked and when. That doesn't stop me doing things wrong, and yesterday we lost transmission halfway through Mass, which wasn't my fault (as far as I know). But, technical glitches aside, we are successfully broadcasting a Sunday Mass, and other services as well, and the feedback is tremendous. I am moved and heartened by the messages that I am receiving back, and I have to say that this is the most positive feedback I've ever received in more than thirty years of ministry. Being able to use the beauty and resources of St Mary Magdalene's is a great benefit in this. It's not the same as normal Sunday worship, because we have no music, and I can't move about, and it's only me with Fiona answering, but we can offer spiritual resources, and an experience of worship that people can share. We even managed to do Stations of the Cross, with me carrying an iPad around the church, which was jolly hard work, and a bit wobbly, but worked. The only cloud on the horizon is that the Archbishops think that this is a bad thing, and that we should only be streaming from our homes. My own inner turmoil when receiving that pronouncement was acute, as I am not a natural rebel, but I am quite clear that my going into church to do this can do no harm, while the good that the services are doing is immense (and much greater than if they came from my dining room). So, yesterday (like many others) I rebelled, for the sake of my people's spiritual lives.
Monday 30 March 2020
Monday 16 March 2020
SIGNS OF SPRING
Before the Beak
Regular readers will remember Angry Woman with Dog, who appears from time to time, despite no longer living particularly close; at the moment she is Angry Woman without Dog. The dog was seized by the police last July, when there was an incident with a neighbour, and she has been distraught ever since. Finally, in January, she received a letter charging her with having a dangerous dog out of control and causing injury, and with owning a fighting dog (namely a pit bull) and calling her to court at the start of February. She brought this letter round, not understanding it fully, and her GP and I swung into action. He wrote a letter stating that she was unfit to appear, which I emailed to the court, having had a helpful conversation with someone at the courts service, who told me what we could do. There was no prospect of getting a solicitor in time for that appearance, and so I asked for an adjournment. As the person at the courts service had warned, we heard nothing about the result of that until she received a letter summoning her to the magistrates' court in March, but at least that gave us a chance to get her a solicitor. So, a few weeks ago I walked her to the solicitors' offices, where thanks to her claustrophobia we had to conduct business in a foyer (where the Bishop of Kensington walked past, among others). Blessedly, legal aid was obtained, and so she has representation.
So, the week before last, I took her to court, in the car. Why did I do this? Well, I really couldn't avoid it. I am involved, I am concerned that she gets a fair trial, and she is quite unable to help herself. To do the journey by public transport would be really complicated, and for someone who reads as poorly as she does, that would be a real challenge. One of my most basic observations about all this is how opaque the criminal justice system is, so unless you are familiar with it you may well find it very hard to work out what is going on, and even to follow instructions. It must be a complete nightmare if you are not eligible for legal aid, and frankly finding a legal aid solicitor is not easy. If you don't read well, the paperwork is pretty daunting, and just really unhelpful. No indication of where the court actually was, for instance. So, had I not taken her, she wouldn't have got there at all. We arrived early, to give us time to talk to the solicitor, who was then delayed, so we had plenty of time to inspect the waiting areas. Not encouraging. All very grubby, and despite the building not being very old, the decor looked very tired. It was not a nice place to spend several hours. I was struck by the fact that Angry Woman seemed to be the only native English speaker among the various defendants, which again raises questions about the access to justice.
After a long delay, we were ushered down to a different courtroom from the one we were scheduled for, with space. I found myself sitting behind a large window, the frame of which was much decorated with chewing gum. I presume the magistrates could see me, and my presence perhaps registered with them. Angry Woman's claustrophobia meant she didn't want to go into the dock (which is of course enclosed), but they were quite tolerant about that. We are due in court again in June. Meanwhile the dog is still in kennels somewhere. I suppose it is possible that the dog might be learning better behaviour, but I somehow doubt it. I can see this will run and run.
Decorative Surfaces
The day after going to court I spent with the Institute of Conservation's gilding and decorative surfaces group, at a symposium on the conservation of devotional objects. In the breaks I was able to write a sermon, so my time was used efficiently, and they were very kind about my talk. I tried to be honest about some of the pitfalls we had encountered with our big conservation project, which, to be fair, was not really involving devotional objects, but I made some observations about devotional objects anyway. The room full of conservators and professionals seemed to regard a client as quite a curiosity to have among them, so that was quite fun. They were talking about the ethical issues involved with devotional objects in collections, and seeking to inform or consult the original users, but I pointed out that this was full of difficulties, because there may be plenty of people who claim ownership or use of an object who are not at all the same people as created it (see Stonehenge for an example). I dare say that some Roman Catholics might take the view that they know better than us how some of our devotional objects should be used, whereas I would say that our practice has its own integrity (and has been going on for a hundred and fifty years in this building). There are some interesting discussions to be had.
A Group Visit
Amid all the panic, we had a visit from a local branch of Open Age this morning. I had supposed they would be down on numbers, but not at all. They had a successful visit to the church, and then we did them a deal in the cafe, who were pleased to have the custom. There was one gentleman present who had relations who had grown up in the old slums, so I was glad I hadn't emphasised their criminality. He tested me by asking which world boxing champion grew up here, and I think I impressed him by knowing it was Terry Downes, who was baptised at St Mary Mags. They were a cheerful and responsive group.
Bird Life
On the canal, one of the Egyptian geese had vanished, and the remaining one was wandering around disconsolately, but now a second one has appeared, so happiness is restored. They were mating enthusiastically a couple of weeks ago, so who knows, we might get some goslings.
Meanwhile, at St Peter's, my discouragement of people feeding the pigeons has provoked a reaction. First my notice asking people not to do it was taken down, and then when I replaced it, someone spread breadcrumbs in front of our steps. I confess that I have taken to kicking the larger bread rolls into the road, which gives a trivial satisfaction, but isn't far enough away to achieve anything (since they won't actually get run over). Now someone has attached a large notice to the tree berating me for not valuing nature. Oh dear. . . . .
Regular readers will remember Angry Woman with Dog, who appears from time to time, despite no longer living particularly close; at the moment she is Angry Woman without Dog. The dog was seized by the police last July, when there was an incident with a neighbour, and she has been distraught ever since. Finally, in January, she received a letter charging her with having a dangerous dog out of control and causing injury, and with owning a fighting dog (namely a pit bull) and calling her to court at the start of February. She brought this letter round, not understanding it fully, and her GP and I swung into action. He wrote a letter stating that she was unfit to appear, which I emailed to the court, having had a helpful conversation with someone at the courts service, who told me what we could do. There was no prospect of getting a solicitor in time for that appearance, and so I asked for an adjournment. As the person at the courts service had warned, we heard nothing about the result of that until she received a letter summoning her to the magistrates' court in March, but at least that gave us a chance to get her a solicitor. So, a few weeks ago I walked her to the solicitors' offices, where thanks to her claustrophobia we had to conduct business in a foyer (where the Bishop of Kensington walked past, among others). Blessedly, legal aid was obtained, and so she has representation.
So, the week before last, I took her to court, in the car. Why did I do this? Well, I really couldn't avoid it. I am involved, I am concerned that she gets a fair trial, and she is quite unable to help herself. To do the journey by public transport would be really complicated, and for someone who reads as poorly as she does, that would be a real challenge. One of my most basic observations about all this is how opaque the criminal justice system is, so unless you are familiar with it you may well find it very hard to work out what is going on, and even to follow instructions. It must be a complete nightmare if you are not eligible for legal aid, and frankly finding a legal aid solicitor is not easy. If you don't read well, the paperwork is pretty daunting, and just really unhelpful. No indication of where the court actually was, for instance. So, had I not taken her, she wouldn't have got there at all. We arrived early, to give us time to talk to the solicitor, who was then delayed, so we had plenty of time to inspect the waiting areas. Not encouraging. All very grubby, and despite the building not being very old, the decor looked very tired. It was not a nice place to spend several hours. I was struck by the fact that Angry Woman seemed to be the only native English speaker among the various defendants, which again raises questions about the access to justice.
After a long delay, we were ushered down to a different courtroom from the one we were scheduled for, with space. I found myself sitting behind a large window, the frame of which was much decorated with chewing gum. I presume the magistrates could see me, and my presence perhaps registered with them. Angry Woman's claustrophobia meant she didn't want to go into the dock (which is of course enclosed), but they were quite tolerant about that. We are due in court again in June. Meanwhile the dog is still in kennels somewhere. I suppose it is possible that the dog might be learning better behaviour, but I somehow doubt it. I can see this will run and run.
Decorative Surfaces
The day after going to court I spent with the Institute of Conservation's gilding and decorative surfaces group, at a symposium on the conservation of devotional objects. In the breaks I was able to write a sermon, so my time was used efficiently, and they were very kind about my talk. I tried to be honest about some of the pitfalls we had encountered with our big conservation project, which, to be fair, was not really involving devotional objects, but I made some observations about devotional objects anyway. The room full of conservators and professionals seemed to regard a client as quite a curiosity to have among them, so that was quite fun. They were talking about the ethical issues involved with devotional objects in collections, and seeking to inform or consult the original users, but I pointed out that this was full of difficulties, because there may be plenty of people who claim ownership or use of an object who are not at all the same people as created it (see Stonehenge for an example). I dare say that some Roman Catholics might take the view that they know better than us how some of our devotional objects should be used, whereas I would say that our practice has its own integrity (and has been going on for a hundred and fifty years in this building). There are some interesting discussions to be had.
A Group Visit
Amid all the panic, we had a visit from a local branch of Open Age this morning. I had supposed they would be down on numbers, but not at all. They had a successful visit to the church, and then we did them a deal in the cafe, who were pleased to have the custom. There was one gentleman present who had relations who had grown up in the old slums, so I was glad I hadn't emphasised their criminality. He tested me by asking which world boxing champion grew up here, and I think I impressed him by knowing it was Terry Downes, who was baptised at St Mary Mags. They were a cheerful and responsive group.
Bird Life
On the canal, one of the Egyptian geese had vanished, and the remaining one was wandering around disconsolately, but now a second one has appeared, so happiness is restored. They were mating enthusiastically a couple of weeks ago, so who knows, we might get some goslings.
Meanwhile, at St Peter's, my discouragement of people feeding the pigeons has provoked a reaction. First my notice asking people not to do it was taken down, and then when I replaced it, someone spread breadcrumbs in front of our steps. I confess that I have taken to kicking the larger bread rolls into the road, which gives a trivial satisfaction, but isn't far enough away to achieve anything (since they won't actually get run over). Now someone has attached a large notice to the tree berating me for not valuing nature. Oh dear. . . . .
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