Cold and Light

Whose idea is this return to cold weather? I know, ‘March comes in like a lion…’, but honestly, when I checked the weather app before my morning run, the temps in my morning running time were consistently below 5°. It’s blessedly good to have longer days, but it would soothe my spirit to have a bit more warmth concomitant with the light.

This was a timed-run morning (that’s another ‘Whose idea was that?’), so I put my head down, gasped and wheezed through two miles, and made it home in a good time; the rolling average stands at 19:24 now. Coffee and fruit, cleaned up and dressed for Morning Prayer, I’ll have a meet with our training LLM, then home for the rest of the day (sermon prep, putting together my presentation on the Incarnation for Sunday’s Faith Forum). Today’s New Testament Seminar will be held online, saving me the three hours or more getting into and back from Oxford. Hey, I might even indulge in some pleasure reading.

Mad Thursday

I took a non-timed morning jog/walk (we had a spell of rain exactly in the middle of my run, so I sheltered under an overhang for a while); home to coffee and fruit, shower and dress for Morning Prayer, then to Oxford for three tutorials and a talk by Jarel Robinson-Brown. Then, home at last.

Running Out of Winter

I took a non-timed run yesterday morning after not running at all on Sunday (rain and inanition, if I recall correctly). It was just as well — I felt as though I were running in treacle. Then on Monday: coffee and fruit, cleaned up, Morning Prayer, home for coffee and a Teams meeting, sermon work, marking, afternoon Communion service at Old Station House, some groceries at Waitrose, and home for the day.

Yesterday, as I say, I ran, then coffee and fruit, cleaned up, hurried to church for Morning Prayer, then to Oxford for a Paul tutorial, lunch, then home to tackle some backed-up emails and edit the sermon for today’s morning service, research modern healing liturgies.

This morning my legs and breathing seemed truly sluggish, but it turns out I managed a sub-20:00 run that brought my rolling average to 19:36 (!). It wasn’t pleasant, but making that sort of progress is the reason I returned to timed running, so there we are. Coffee and fruit, cleaned up, Morning Prayer, midweek Communion, then staff meeting, then home.

Quick Start

I slept till 7:00 (unthinkable for me) and it was rainy when I woke, so no run today. Coffee, fruit, morning Prayer, home for more coffee and toast, then marking and work on Holy Week service booklets.

(Quick in writing, not quick running, which I didn’t do.)

Fast Start

I finally got in a weather-able, correctly timed, non-leg-weary run this morning, and at a good time — my rolling average drops below 20:00 for the first time, to 19:50 today. I am sure I’ll have more slow days in weeks to come, but at least I see some progress, which is why I resumed timing my runs in the first place. I do think I may time my runs on alternate days, though, to allow days for not taxing my legs to the utmost.

Coffee, fruit, Morning Prayer, clean up, sercond coffee and toast, off to morning Eucharist, home for a rest, then back for the Healing & Wholeness service.

Imported Rant

The other morning I was especially stirred when I read the previous night’s headlines from the Fractured States of America, so I went on a tear on Bluesky. This is what I wrote:


Look, I hate to say this, but from over here it looks as though the US has turned the corner and entered the emergency zone.
If GOP elected officials are afraid of Trump goon squads, if Musk can threaten advertisers with cancellation of state contracts if they don’t spend enough on X, if Trump can ‘joke’ about being king, if Hitler salutes are now normalised in public (though even Bannon held back a little), if there is no organised, articulated opposition, if Trump can tell blatant falsehoods on mass media (Zelenskyy ‘dictator’, attacked Russia) without being vigorously rebutted by an allegedly free press, if Trump governs by executive orders rather than legislation, if the POTUS and VPOTUS have repudiated their alliance with the liberal democracies of Europe, and thrown in their lot with unabashed tyrants… well, there you are.

Vale, Carole Conrade!

News has come round the Web (via Mike Aubrey) that Carl Conrad, an exceptionally thoughtful, generous classicist-philologist who for a long time taught at Washington University in St Louis. I just posted the following reminiscence at the B-Greek bulletin board, descendant of the mailing list in which I used to participate with Carl.

Thank you, Jonathan, for passing along this news. Carl was a mighty man of old of the B-Greek mailing list, back when it was strictly a mailing list, and we all learned much from him — many of us about Greek, but all of us about how to conduct ourselves with grace and patience in a mixed group of international scholars, intermediate and beginning students, autodidact experts, axe-grinding non-experts, and wayfaring strangers.

I will remember him particularly in conjunction with his advocacy of positions on verbal aspect, deponency, the aorist passive, and linguistics in general at a time when these were not common currency in the biblical marketplace of ideas. He was kind and helpful to me as I was growing up into a Greek teacher, and I know that Jonathan and some of our old-school participants will miss him — have missed his participation — and will long give thanks for his contributions. Vale, Carole Conrade!

Slow Time

I had a bit of a lie-in this morning, at least by my standards, waking up at 6:15 and not getting out of the house till after 7:00. I promptly decided that the way my legs felt, I would take today as a restful day — walking and jogging my two miles, but not asking much of limbs. Just as well, cos my right knee kept flashing me warning pangs, and everything felt exhausted. Then some doomscrolling, las, redeemed by a hot breakfast, hopeful prospects for the Orioles and their first spring training game today, and productive sermon prep time.

Whoosh, No Time

Perhaps more to the point, I timed my morning run but botched it somehow — I wasn’t on my best pace, but I am 100% confident that I did not take 2:56 to get around my two miles. No big deal, though if I wasn’t running to time, I wish I had had the chance to take a more relaxed pace.

Coffee, fruit, clean up and dress for Morning Prayer, check messages at the Parish Centre, then home to work on sermons for Sunday (two services, two sermons), And to Oxford for the NT Seminar, where Tyler Brown gives his presentation on the Sign of Jonah. Then home.

Rain, No Run

Lovely evening at Exeter with the churchwarden and his sister; high marks for another ancient college (with an exquisite chapel)!

It was raining when I woke up at 6:15, so I (with relief) opted not to run. I poured a cup of coffee, had some fruit for breakfast, will clean up and dress for a day in Oxford. Morning Prayer, then off to Oxford for first tutes with Anna, Mimi, Ottavia, and Alex — then home for dinner and an evening with Margaret for the first time in several days.

Beginning Halfway Through

Last night, I had the chance to talk with three of the students whom I’ll meet in tutorials for the first time tomorrow, Fifth Week, halfway through Hilary Term. We had good conversations (not about Luke), and Sarah (their HB tutor) has been very encouraging about them. The next four weeks — with my four first-years as well as my two finalists — will be a bit wild and wooly on the workload side, but it should be fun as well.

Ran my two miles at a good pace today, another sub-20:00 time, bringing my rolling average to 20:02. Shortly the rolling average will start flickering over and under the twenty-minute mark…
Coffee and hot breakfast, I’ll clean up and go to Morning Prayer, then I’ll sift parish emails and fine-tune my homily for this afternoon. This evening I’ll be a guest of one of our wardens at dinner at Exeter, so I’ll add that to my College Dinner Life List (actually not a very long list — I think it’s just Oriel (obvs), Trinity, Keble perhaps, Lincoln, Univ…).

Keeping Active

Not so much physically active, but definitely active on emails and services and sermons and…

So, this chilly morning (0° when I ran) I put in my two miles with a new personal best time, one that pulls my rolling average back down to 20:03. I can’t tell you how I made the difference, but I have noticed recently that my first two minutes of running don’t get me as far as I’d wish, so I concentrated on getting off to a quick start. The rest seems to have just continued as usual. Then coffee, fruit, more coffee, toast, showered and dressed, Morning Prayer, groceries, then back home to work on tomorrow’s funeral homily/eulogy. Around 4:00 I’ll start getting ready to go in to Oriel for the annual Theology Dinner.

Less Frenetic

The only item on my timetable for today is a pastoral visit to a retired priest in our parish (which ordinarily takes upwards of two hours, sometimes more, since he abounds in story-telling). Apart from that I’m swatting emails when they fly too close to me, and working on a sermon for Wednesday’s funeral.

I ran this morning, not a bad time, but it dislodged my first exceptional run from the rolling average, so the average crept upward more than this particular run will have warranted (now I’m at 20:17, with an overall average since I started timing myself at 20:48). I’m a little nettled that my competitive streak is obtruding on the experience; that’s why I stopped counting in the first place, after all. If it turns out that I can’t time myself without being driven by the clock, I’ll just stop again, or perhaps time only one day a week, or something. Coffee and fruit, shower and dress, Morning Prayer, another cup of coffee but at R&R with Margaret, then home to prepare for home communion.

Fun Day

Two miles at a mid pace, rolling average creeping up to 20:09; coffee and fruit, say Morning raayer, then after a while, coffee and toast; shower, dress, fine-tune sermon (in the ‘Continued’ section), then to church for Mass and sermon. I’ll preside at Evensong tonight. Continue reading “Fun Day”

Post Valentine Post

Let’s see…. Yesterday morning I took an easy, non-timed run. As it turned out, I walked for significant portions of the two miles; my ankles and knees appreciated the gentler treatment. I didn’t even start the clock; I knew from the start that this would be a semi-rest day. Then coffee and fruit, shower and Morning Prayer, home for coffee and toast and general email catch-up, then began work on my sermon for Sunday (heaven permit that it ends up a fruitful start and I can wrap it up this morning), then Margaret unveiled her spectacular Valentine gift to me, a pen cabinet to hold a hundred of my fountain pens (woot!), lunch, then off to Oxford to shop for Margaret’s Valentine gift*, and from there to the New Testament Seminar for a paper being given by my Oriel colleague Hindy Najman (an exciting paper on tabnith/tupos (some day I have to alter the CSS for this blog to allow Greek and Hebrew type) in the Hebrew Bible and the Letter to the Hebrews, then at the end of the day back to have a Valentine’s dinner at Dorindo’s.

This morning, two miles at what felt like a strong pace (but which turned out to be less than many recent days, deflecting my rolling average to 20:06). A cup of coffee, let the dogs out, I’ll say Morning Prayer in a minute or two, then clean up, make a hot breakfast, and turn to tomorrow’s sermon.


* I had intended for a long time to buy a large quantity of the dark chocolate black tea that she relishes, from Whittard’s. Whittard’s, though, seems to have a distinctive approach to marketing: they regularly, predictably allow their stock of this particular tea to run out, and then profess to be unable to stock it for weeks — all the while they suggest ordering it from the Whittard’s website.
Now, I am no retail shopkeeper. Still, with my only vague apprehension of the elements of High Street retail merchandising, it seems to me that if there’s enough demand for a product that you regularly run out of it… you might order a larger stock, or more regular deliveries, even both. We will order from the main website, with a sigh.
Empty-handed, I stopped at Montezuma’s for choclate, and at Scriptum for a notebook. Happy Valentine’s Day, Margaret, and all who celebrate!

Thursday Morning of Fourth

A second sub-20 two miles this week, as once again I surprised myself and lowered the rolling average to 20:02. At this rate, I may attain a five-day average below twenty minutes as early as tomorrow. I didn’t expect my pace to break twenty minutes till warmer weather.

Lunch and tutorial today, but nothing else timetabled; I will be pondering Sunday’s sermon, perhaps reading or working on one or another project.

More Full

I was tempted to take this morning off timed running, since I knew I was bound to fall back from the inexplicably fast pace of yesterday; but I went ahead and had a good, normal run (bringing my rolling average to 20:14). Coffee, shower, Morning Prayer, quick errands, home for hot breakfast, then back to church for a staff meeting and a pastoral care committee meeting. By the time I get home I should have marking to do, plus communication with the four first-years I’ll be working with for the second half of term.

(Later: Yup, 3:45. Considering I’m only half time, that’s a very full day.)

Full Tuesday

Startlingly good run this morning — when I saw the time, my first thought was that I must have made a timing mistake somehow. My rolling average drops to 20:32. Coffee, fruit, a bit of marking, shower, Morning Prayer, tutorial, lunch, funeral, then home to tend the ladies while Margaret goes to London to see Windborne (friends of Josiah’s from undergraduate days; she had lunch with them in Oxford last week).

The Wages of Syn(od)

Since it’s sure to be the topique du jour at Synod, I wanted my own position on Welby, Cottrell, Hartley, safeguarding, and rumour to be a matter of public record (even though nobody can be at all interested).

First, it seems entirely possible to me that, despite being immersed in Iwerne camp culture and exercising official roles therein, Justin Welby may not have known about John Smyth’s vicious habit. Possible, though not likely — but he attests that he didn’t, so I’ll take him at his word. It’s also possible that he was entirely unaware that such media venues as Private Eye had followed and reported the sad, cruel history of this story for many years. I myself am often left out of the loop for the goss, for reasons unclear to me (it just can’t be any personal sanctity or innocence; my guess is that it’s somehow bound up with my autism in a way that makes me seem like the sort of person Not To Tell). So I know from experience that sizzling sub rosa stories may simply not get to people whom one would think inescapably likely to have heard. I don’t hold Justin Welby responsible for what he wasn’t told or didn’t know. (This is no doubt a great comfort to him.)

The most recent reporting on the police angle suggests that they handled the case according to their own protocols. Whatever one thinks of those protocols, it appears there wasn’t a lapse on that front.

Relative to the case for Archbishop Welby’s resignation under pressure, I do think there’s a basis. Look at it this way (as I must): if in my ecclesiastical posts I had even the shadow of a hint that young people or vulnerable adults were being abused — or anyone being tormented in the way that Smyth tormented the men in his sphere — and I didn’t alert independent authorities according to stated regulations, and then follow through to make sure something was being done, I would have been sacked. I know this; it’s not some vague estimate. Granted that the [then] Archbishop of Canterbury had at some point been informed about Smyth’s activities, and granted his own very close identification with Iwerne and other Smyth-adjacent circles in the CoE, I would have expected that (if he had a line manager to make the decision) he would have been subjected to consequences comparable to those I as a theological educator-priest would have faced. Being an archbishop should provide no insulation from the consequences of actions (or inactions).

As to Archbishop Cottrell, of whom I’ve heard many positive things, roughly the same criterion applies. If I knew that somebody had been acquitted on a technicality (and I do not dispute the importance of technicalities), but had been excluded from schools on the basis of a past record of conduct, I would jolly well not endorse that person or nominate him for ecclesiastical privileges and honours; indeed, I would endeavour, within the bounds of canon law, to make said person as unwelcome as I could. And I would not have praised them publicly. And I would have mad esure that a paper trail demonstrating the very highest standards of safeguarding vigilance accompanied every future such situation I handled thereafter, ensuring that I had fulfilled the highest standards of safeguarding incumbent on me, such as that which resulted in the appointment of the Bishop of Liverpool.

Bishop Helen-Ann Hartley was a student of mine at Princeton Theological Seminary. I have known her for [mumbles] years, and have never had reason to doubt her integrity. Andrew Brown’s vile aspersion that she spoke out with a view to her own advancement is so preposterous — even were Bp Helen-Ann an ambitious church climber — that I seriously cannot imagine what Brown was thinking. Perhaps he has never heard about the abuse women, particularly women clergy, encounter when they raise their heads above the parapet. Perhaps he thought Bp Helen-Ann so stupid that she anticipated cheers of adulation from the College of Bishops. Whatever the case, I can scarcely imagine that any other diocese in England would accept her as bishop, however enthusiastically she has been received in Newcastle, and however thankfully survivors of abuse have heard her speak out on their behalf.

To sum up an overlong post: Justin Welby knew more than his inaction warranted. Stephen Cottrell has known more than his inaction warranted. Helen-Ann Hartley has simply been saying sensible things about horrible situations. Safeguarding requires more than adhering to rules and letting matters drop.