Good evening and welcome. Nice out there isn’t it? As you can see Plymouth (or as is more likely, the Covid raddled rest of the country) is out and about. It’s a Bank Holiday again although, as I believe I pointed out last time, banks are more or less the only institutions that actually have Bank Holidays now. I get tomorrow off though. For HOH, the call of those sick of the palsy in hospital has proved too strong and I will be here alone – ironing, meal planning, etc., and definitely not sneakily sunbathing or gaming on the PS4 at all.
I am writing this on a brand new computer thing which is for my big birthday. It’s a MAC something or other and it is (a) very light and (b) far more expensive than anything I would ever buy for myself. HOH asked Aged Parent if she would consider putting her hand in her pocket towards it and she was very aggressively positive about it. That is very nice of all involved but at the moment, I am frightened to death by the flipping thing. My suspicion is that people are trying to guilt me into doing more writing. ( I have just asked that question and everyone has just said – well obviously) Anyway, I haven’t got the hang of it properly yet and so, if any dodgy words pop up, it’s not my fault.
I thought about writing about the weather but, I’ll be honest, if one more person says to me “It’s about time isn’t it? We were ready for this weren’t we?” I may well run amok. For the record Aged Parent does not like the heat and, if the nightwear I found as I was making her bed is anything to go by, she has spent most of the time swanning around in a negligee that would not look out of place on Ava Gardner (Mogambo phase). As part of the sterling attempts from her sheltered living to drag their old people back into reality, they have started eating in the dining room again now. All on separate tables obviously. AP was a bit nervous about going downstairs so we took her down on our way out. I was surprised to see one lady partaking of lunch in her woolly bobby hat so she must have been a bit chilly. Unless it was a fashion statement. I’m a bit behind the times with all that these days.
I thought I might write a little about action choruses in church. It’s a bit of a niche subject so if you don’t want to stay, feel free to leave the room. I did mention last week that HOH and I had not joined in with the actions at church last week. (If anyone is not aware of what an action chorus is. You take a children’s praise song and add actions to the words. In the olden days, this tended to be just for the children. It involved clapping, jumping, turning around, pointing up (for God) and pointing at yourself (to signify yourself). These days, action choruses are definitely not just for children. They usually involve enough footwork to give a decent Paso Doble a run for its money and more elaborate mimes than you would have seen in a 1973 David Bowie concert. It is also a bit strange at the moment doing these actions when you can’t sing. At one point, I did look around at lots of people waving their arms in front of them and silently rocking from side to side and it looked like the longest, most boring Zombie invasion ever. Anyway, I digress.
When I was a young slip of a thing I used to teach at Sunday School. I like to think I was quite creative. Not as creative as Ang but still, I gave it my best. I may have even overdone it sometimes. Like the time my depiction of the Fall of Jerico, involving a pile of chairs from the kitchen with a piece of string tied to one of the legs resulted in a few namby-pamby children getting a bit upset because they said chairs had fallen on them. It’s true that there was a conversation about whether that child’s finger should be at that angle and was a trip to Casualty necessary but I felt that was overblown. And I’ll tell you this. The children used to fight to get into my classes. Well, the more robust ones did.
I used to be happy to lead choruses. I really did. I have deeped and wided, I have flapped my hands to signify ravens feeding Elijah and I have INSISTED that children should not have a face like a coffee pot. (I don’t remember why) Because it was fun. And ultimately, it didn’t really matter. Some people liked it. Some people didn’t. Uncle George who brought his accordion to Sunshine Corner for the children to sing songs to for the best part of twenty years would rather die than show us his flag flying from the Castle of his Heart, but nobody cared. Uncle George would turn up every Tuesday in his Reliant Robin and faithfully support people as they taught children he wasn’t that keen on and that was fine and we really appreciated him. When I met HOH I knew that he was the walking, talking definition of the word Introvert. (Not shy – it’s different). He didn’t want to do action choruses. I wasn’t that fussed either way, although more and more I would not join in just to show a bit of solidarity and because he was so handsome.
Then, one day, when we were in a church we were looking at joining because AP said she liked it. (In the end, she just liked the vicar. Same old. same old) A young woman got up before “Children’s Worship” and informed us that anyone not actually joining in was teaching the children to NOT worship and that we would be holding them back and possibly even being responsible for them not having a relationship with God. Oohh kayyy…To be honest, I have very rarely done actions since then. Not a big deal and in my speaking days visiting a church when someone would say “Let’s get the preacher up to show us how to do it!!” I would do it – you don’t get any trouble from me. But, in general, I decided I wanted to stand with those who felt uncomfortable with it, who don’t feel they need to be released into it because IT DOESN’T MATTER. A little less condemnation, a little more following God’s example as Elvis or was it Eric Cantona so nearly said.
God didn’t go to all the trouble of sending his Son merely to point an accusing finger, telling the world how bad it was. He came to help, to put the world right again. John 3