Ruminations about hermeneutics, theology, theory, politics, ecclesiastical life… and exercise.
Two heavy miles, cup of coffee, shower, Morning Prayer, working coffee with Margaret at R&R, lunch at Oriel, New Testament seminar this afternoon, then home for the weekend. Sunday’s homily has been resisting me, I have some marking to do, admissions preparation…
Two good miles (after a bit of a lie-in for me, woke at 6:30), coffee and fruit, cleaned up, then off to Morning Prayer, to Oxford for tutorials, then home again to work on Sunday’s homily.
Billionaires do not conduce to general economic health — so (and this has been said before) the ‘economics’ reporting *must* begin reporting on the state of the actual functional economy, excluding the giga-wealth of the plutocrats. If you want to understand why Trump can convince the US voters that they’re worse off than they were four years ago (stipulating racism and misogyny), compare the lot of the lower 75% of the economic populace.
Ran this morning, legs felt okay (especially as they warmed up), but my heart is heavy for reasons all will understand. Coffee, hot breakfast, Morning Prayer, mid-week Mass, staff meeting, then the afternoon to mark tutorial essays and breathe deeply.
Yesterday morning I got up and ran my morning miles, a good run though nothing spectacular. The day was sepcial, though, since it was Margaret’s birthday. I had a cup of coffee, and fruit, before cleaning up and dressing for church, after which I joined in Morning Prayer and met Margaret at R&R for a birthday breakfast of porridge (for her). Afternoon Mass at Bridge House, then time to chat with the residents; it’s always a significant occasion, and I try to linger as long as they have time (they are often on a tight schedule of planned activities). Then we ate out at Ask Italian (which does a good job with vegetarians and gluten-free options), and Margaret had her favourite pudding (their Etna Sundae). We watched the last episode of the last season of The Umbrella Factory
This morning’s run was again good, not great. Coffee, fruit, shower, Morning Prayer, stop in the parish office with Jackie to check on developments, home to do a catena of minor administrative tasks (and you thought Tuesday wasn’t one of my work days!), my weekly telephone appointment, then work on tomorrow morning’s sermon.
Two adequate miles this morning, followed by coffee, fruit, crumpets, and a shower; the parish has only one service today, the All Saints Sunday service which will be the final service led by our Team Rector. Tomorrow will be a whole new world.
I was meditating on the Feast of All Souls, and sought to remember whether I hasd preached on this feast. So I searched my trusty outboard memory when sure enough, in the year 2022, Fr George Westhaver invited me to preach at Pusey House. I brought the day and the readings in conjunction with one of my favourite poems, and the result made for a good sermon, I think — worth offering to you, anyway. (Click below for the PDF.)
Ran my miles this morning at a good, though not noteworthy, pace. Coffee, hot breakfast, then rehearsal for tomorrow’s All Saint’s Sunday service. Now, more odds and ends that had been suspended for a bit, but an otherwise relaxing day.
My October in music at last.fm
1 The Lemonheads 16 scrobbles
2 Ted Leo and the Pharmacists 12
3 Juliana Hatfield 9
4 Michelle Shocked 6
5 Alabama Shakes 5
6 Belle and Sebastian 5
7 De La Soul 5
8 k. d. lang 5
9 R.E.M. 5
10 The Slits 4
As always, the Mountain Goats are excluded so as to make room for more others.
Good run this morning in chilly weather. Not limber, but adequate leg liveliness and breathing. Cup of coffee, some grapes, a shower, on my way to Morning Prayer then check phone messages and a breakfast date with Margaret at R&R. Much, much to do.
So I let the blog slide for four days. At least I didn’t write about running!
So, Healing and Wholeness went well.
Monday morning I had a mediocre run, heavy legs and a slow pace. Tuesday was only a little better.
Yesterday morning when I sat at my desk and started putting my trainers on, I realised that I had the midweek Mass at St Helen’s, so I needed a homily on top of making the handout I had mostly ready for the (yesterday’s) Introduction to Reading the Epistle of James session. Midweek Mass went fine, then Staff Meeting, then a pastoral conversation, then ran to the bus stop (but just missed the bus), caught the next bus to Didcot Parkway, train to London, strolled from Paddington to the church (passing Ian Hislop on the way), arrived in plenty of time for Exposition and Mass before dinner and my talk — all of which went marvellously. Fr Alan and I nipped out for a pint after the talk; that was lovely as well.
Today I had a bit of a lie-in (for me), left the vicarage at about 8:00, navigated to Tottenham Court Road and Paddington, hopped aboard the local to Didcot Parkway, and settled in at home. That’s two days, now, without running — we’ll see how my legs feel tomorrow morning.
Friday afternoon’s memorial service for Dr Glenn Black of Oriel was sublime, both in the general sense of ‘celestially beautiful’ and in the more technical sense of ‘so surpassing comprehension as to inspire awe’. I knew Glenn only very, very casually. We met at Burns Night at Oriel, where Margaret and I were sat next to, or near to, them. He introduced himself and said, ‘I believe you know my daughter.’ I had only just met Imogen once, I think, at that point in my time at Oxford, so it took quite a tour of my mental rolodex to put together Glenn’s last name with the quiet, but pointedly witty priest I had met in Michaelmas. After that, our paths crossed only rarely and briefly, to my regret. My impression of him was of a learned and graceful pillar of college and University life, and subsequent narration proved that impression sound. I have had the favourable providence to count Imogen a friend, and when Glenn died last winter I was particularly touched on her behalf, as Margaret and I were doing our best to handle the deaths of her mother and my sister.
The service was conducted by my colleague the Revd Dr Rob Wainwright, Chaplain of Oriel, with support from the Oriel Choir, but the ritual burden was borne by addresses from a colleague of Glenn’s from University College, from one of Glenn’s students, and from my colleague at Oriel Dr Katie Murphy. Each bespoke the distinctive privilege of having known him respectively as classmate and colleague, as his student, and as his successor as Tutor of English at Oriel. Each revealed precious anecdotes, well-told, and incandescent with the honour and dignity, humility and grace of a man who was an Oxford tutor par excellence. I hope to retrieve the addresses at some point; they will remind me of the heights of my aspirations, and of the distance of my attainments from Glenn’s. In this, they remind me of the testimonies to my own father.
When I got home (an hour and a half, roughly, on the Friday afternoon roadworks-and-an-ring-road-accident X3 route) I was utterly wrung out, and was weary most of Saturday as well.
So I didn’t run yesterday; instead, I walked my two-mile route, with very occasional, very brief intervals of trying out a running pace to see… no, that just won’t do either.
This morning I did run, a decent pace, then coffee and fruit breakfast at home, then I attended the 10:30 service at St Helen’s, home to work on my address for the Healing and Wholeness service, then led the service, now home for dinner with Margaret.
God bless us, every one.
My work week will spill over to tomorrow, so no real ‘day off’, but that’s the lot of the part-timer. Ran my miles this morning in 13°, so perhaps this is the last no-hoodie exercise day. Coffee, fruit, shower, email, Morning Prayer, coffee, crumpets, marksheets, then I’ll go to Oxford for Dr. Glenn Black’s memorial service at the University Church. Maybe I’ll call it a day when I get back, or maybe I’ll see more bits and bobs to do. Tomorrow I haev sermon prep for the evening Healing & Wholeness service.
Maybe I’ll try to finish Wrede for fun.