Hoddidodds for BeeverSteve

something gritty to chew on

Welcome to my blog.

These are not the voyages of the Starship Enterprise but the reflections and musings of a local church minister about to begin a period of sabbatical study.  Some entries will have practical applications whilst others may resemble a Daliesque stream of consciousness. Those are the more personal entries as I’m holding up a mirror to my own thoughts as I reflect on my faith and life’s journey.

Feel free to comment but please respect these words, thoughts and ideas for what they are.  Most of them come from experience; others will reflect my reading and travel experiences over the next three months. Some are reworkings of older material (where is that PhD when you need it?) – a few will probably be written with the effort of getting my allotment ready for winter. (There’s a message in that somewhere, I’m sure).

Some will provoke, others warn or warm – some may even move you. When you do read, ask God what He might be saying to you. I’d love to hear about it.

The working title for my blog comes from two dialect words in use in rural Cambridgeshire until the 1970’s. A slap up meal at Mrs Miggins’ pie shop for anyone who deciphers the true meaning!

Missional Church: as easy as falling off a wall?

When I use a word,” Humpty Dumpty said, in rather a scornful tone, “it means just what I choose it to mean - neither more nor less.” “The question is,” said Alice, “whether you can make words mean so many different things.” [1]

What do we mean by missional?

It’s one of those words whose definition can appear so broad that’s it’s hard to know what it’s really all about. Looking behind the word for a moment it can be hard to understand, (to tie down as it were), what God’s particular intentionality is, let alone knowing exactly how and where we join in. In the search for a concrete picture we are left uncomfortably close to trying to nail jelly to a wall with a sledgehammer, using six inch nails. [Please don’t try it at home without a plastic sheet for the mess and a First Aid box for your fingers].

Hodiddodd revealed

Congratulations to Val Bird of GHBC who has correctly identified what a Hoddidodd is (picture below)
The prize has yet to be claimed as Val's guess for beever was wide of the mark. I'll make it a bit easier: the Fen equivalent of beever (often pronounced "bavour") is docky.  Google is not your friend here - docky has nothing to do with Linux, dock leaves or a place where ships sail from. Knowing what a hoddidodd is may be a bit of a red herring .....

Space Dust

Dust is all around us. The condition of (some) teenagers’ bedrooms is (allegedly) indicative that dust can and does have a happy home best left undisturbed. For the would be DIYer, dust constitutes a major hazard when you travel to hitherto unchartered territory (corners behind the sofa anyone?) in the regular round of redecoration.

Wouldn’t it be great, though, if somehow dust could deal with itself? No more dusters, no more “who forgot to empty the bag?” arguments (if your home is a Dyson free zone) and no elderly relatives surreptitiously running their fingers over surfaces to reveal a neat film of our non bbf.

Well, I have good news for you. There’s a cosmic cleaner close by – though the jury is still out on whether it’s a Henry or an Upright.

Visit 1:Missional Church in a village setting

This is a large village home to around 10,600 people (2011 census). It is a largely white, predominantly middle class community with a wide range of social, spiritual and recreational activities. The local area is generally considered to be one of the more sought after parts of the UK with good housing, excellent schools and very high levels of employment.
Missional Church
The church is in the evangelical tradition and has a commitment to be and to bring the Good News of Christ into the community. It has recently completed an ambitious project to convert under used buildings (located around 200 yards from the church) into a community hub. Two years into the project, the rebuilt premises are proving to be a popular meeting point with a café, meeting rooms and a range of activities designed to bridge church and community.

Learning from experience

If life had a second edition, how I would correct the proofs. (John Clare)

John Clare was born in rural Northamptonshire in July 1793, the son of a Farm Labourer. He died from a stroke in Northampton County Lunatic Asylum in May 1864, leaving a wife and family together with over 3500 poems, many of them unpublished in his lifetime.

 Clare never settled in London literary circles preferring to visit the capital from time to time, returning quickly to his home close to the village of his birth. It was there he found the inspiration for many of his poems, observations of a countryside and a way of life that was in the process of undergoing dramatic and irrevocable change.