Curate Conundrums

Have you ever been up a mountain? I once climbed Snowdon with my Dad when I was a teenager. No, we didn’t take the train. We walked up it, well, we did take the train back down. When we got to the top it was a bit of a disappointment as it was a cloudy day and we couldn’t see anything, there was no view, our vision was blocked, blinded by the water vapour around us, a great grey mist. Mountains are a place of encounter with God. It fits in with our almost primeval idea that God is up there, in the sky, and we’re down here. Churches are often built at the top of hills. One reason is practical, that everyone else can see it. Another is it’s higher, closer to God. Now of course we know as Christians that God isn’t up there. God is all around us, and Christ is all, and in all. Modern science has shown us that heaven isn’t above the clouds. Oh and by the way, the earth is round, regardless of what some people think. Yet still I find myself looking upwards when I want to speak

Well, well, well. What can I tell you about Helen? I’ve thought a lot about this sermon, and I’ve decided to be merciful, and try not to embarrass her, well not too much. When I was trawling through the filing cabinets of my memory, I actually couldn’t think of any embarrassing tales to tell. The more I thought about it, the more I realised that Helen probably has more dirt on me, than I on her. So perhaps me staying in her good books is a good thing. Salt and Light, goodness and showing it. That’s my title for today. But what do I mean? I first met Helen when we were at Cuddesdon together. All good priests come from Cuddesdon, isn’t that right Simon? Before Helen arrived I was the sole ambassador for the Diocese of Norwich. I took this very seriously, trying to persuade all my colleagues to come here. In fact Helen told me when she started and said she was from Norfolk, people at college said ‘Ooh, Grahamland!’ Perhaps I’d been banging the drum too much. Perhaps I’d go