Prayer of St Patrick

Happy St Patrick's Day to you!

I won't be heading in to the city for the parade today. Instead I think I will celebrate a bit of Irishness this evening at a coffeehouse with a book of Irish myths and legends.

For a few local thoughts about Paddy's Day check out Dublin Mom.

In the meantime, here's the prayer from the man himself. This version was transcribed by Mrs C.F. Alexander and was first used on 17th March 1889. Mrs Alexander is also known for such hymns as 'Once in Royal David's City', 'There is a Green Hill Faraway', and perhaps most notably for 'All Things Bright and Beautiful.'

St Patrick's Breastplate
(The Lorica)

I bind unto myself today
The strong name of the Trinity,
By invocation of the same,
The Three in One and One in Three.

I bind this day to me for ever,
By power of faith, Christ's incarnation;
His baptism in the Jordan River;
His death on cross for my salvation;
His bursting form the spiced tomb;
His riding up the heavenly way;
His coming at the day of doom;
I bind unto myself today.

I bind unto myself the power
Of the great love of the cherubim;
The sweet 'Well done' in judgement hour;
The service of the seraphim,
Confessors' faith, Apostles word,
The patriarchs' prayers, the prophets' scrolls,
All good deeds done unto the Lord,
And purity of virgin souls.

I bind unto myself today
The virtues of the starlit heaven,
The glorious sun's life-giving ray,
The whiteness of the moon at even,
The flashing of the lightning free,
The whirling wind's tempestuous shocks,
The stable earth, the deep salt sea,
Around the old eternal rocks.

I bind unto myself today
The power of God to hold and lead,
His eye to watch, his might to stay,
His ear to harken to my need.
The wisdom of my God to teach,
His hands to guide, his shield to ward,
The word of God to give me speech,
His heavenly host to be my guard.

Against the demon snares of sin,
The vice that gives temptations force,
The natural lusts that war within,
The hostile men that mar my course;
Or few or many, far or nigh,
In every place and in all hours
Against their fierce hostility,
I bind to me these holy powers.

Against all Satan's spells and wiles,
Against false words of heresy,
Against the knowledge that defiles,
Against the heart's idolatry,
Against the wizard's evil craft,
Against the death wound and the burning
The choking wave and the poisoned shaft,
Protect me, Christ, till thy returning.

Christ be with me, Christ within me,
Christ behind me, Christ before me,
Christ beside me, Christ to win me,
Christ to comfort and restore me,
Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,
Christ in hearts of all the love me,
Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.

I bind unto myself the Name,
The strong name of the Trinity;
By invocation of the same,
The Three in One, and One in Three.
Of whom all nature hath creation,
Eternal Father, Spirit, Word:
Praise to the Lord of my salvation,
Salvation is of Christ the Lord!

Another One!

Ok, I know I said I was going to stop playing this silly game, but for some reason I can't stop myself. (That sounds terribly worrying!)

I took the kids on a short train ride this weekend into Blackrock. On of the first things I noticed when coming out of the station was a new Starbucks. I couldn't resist it. I had to check it out. (Like it was going to be any different than any other Starbucks?)

The store is located in a former Post Office which makes it the biggest Starbucks I've been into in Ireland - a bit more space than usual. As far as views from a coffeehouse go, there is a great view from the deck out the back which looks out across Dublin Bay. (Before that sounds too ideal check out this photo of Ireland's biggest eye sore right on the Bay). Unfortunately the queue was pretty long and very slow, but I'd committed myself - I have this silly game, don't I?

The site must have cost them a fortune and I'm sure it will take years to turn a profit even at Starbucks prices. But, and I've said this before, the alleged tactics of Starbucks is to open a store in a coffee dense area with the goal of eventually drowning out the competition. Such is the cut throat world of commerce and a reason that I struggle with going to Starbucks in the first place. Like I said, I can't help myself. (Oh man, I really do have a problem.)

On the way back to the station I passed a local independent cafe. It had a sign on the wall showing it was for sale. Must be a coincidence...right?

Holy Muffins

Well now, here's an interesting change to the cup of tea and stale biscuit served after a church service.

Holy Muffins!

(I wonder what difference it could make if I prayed before every cup of coffee?)

Learning from the master

Deep, informative conversations with three year olds are quite rare. Repetitive questions are not, but sometimes they lead to profound thoughts and ideas.

A favourite question of our three year old is, 'What's today is?' Followed up by, 'What are we doing today?'

This morning the questioning began as we lay in bed:

What's today is?

Saturday.

What are we doing today?

I don't know yet.

Can we go to a cafe?


Ah, my little padawan. Your learning is serving you well.

Voices in my head

Today was a beautiful, blue-sky Spring morning. Worthy of a visit to our favourite playground and park. We packed up a picnic, scooter and tricycle and headed off. On the way I dropped in to Starbucks to pick up a coffee to take to the park. I always feel a little jealous when I see someone at the park with a cup of coffee in their hand, so I thought it only fair to reciprocate.

We arrived at a crowded Herbert Park and played for a good while in their great playground. Then we took off for a scoot followed by a little picnic and even had time to feed the ducks. It was ideal.

Almost.

I say almost, because as I wondered around the swings and slides, sipping my latte and enjoying the sounds of fun, I was quite shocked to see a considerable amount of rubish strewn across the ground - and this in one of Dublin's poshest areas! A voice in my head said, 'How can people leave a mess like this?' Then I heard it say, 'Do the decent thing and clean it up yourself.'

So I began with the larger pieces of paper, whch looked like some child's homework, then moved on to the sweet wrappers and crips packets. I imagined I could hear voices saying, 'Wow. Look at this man. He must be a Christian, for behold his attitude of graciousness. See how he inspires us to acts of humble service for the betterment of the community!'

As I progressed to picking up the remaining trash I noticed that no one had actually joined me in my mission. On my last stretch I bent over to pick up some tissues only to discover that this wasn't what I was aiming for. But it was too late. I had made the commitment in my movement to pick it up. I couldn't let Jesus down now. What kind of witness would I be? I had to follow through.

Ladies and gentlemen, this was not a tissue from some snotty-nosed toddler. I could have dealt with that much better. No, this was a used breast pad from some lactating mother.

It was then that I thought I heard the voices in my head saying, 'And that is why we were quite happy to leave the rubish where it was.'

My First Tag

Every now and then when I read people's blogs I come across the concept of tagging. It's a good idea for getting a glimpse into someone's life and also for introducing friends to new blogs.

Usually when I see people being tagged I get jealous because no one ever tags me. But tonight Ali has put me out of my missery. (Thank you!)

Here are the requests of the tag:

1. Pick up the nearest book (of at least 123 pages).
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences.
5. Tag five other people.


For some reason I have a copy of the London A-Z Map on my desk. As this doesn't have a particular sentence structure I will use another book for this tag. However, here's a bit of a two-for-one deal with some info about page 123 of the London A-Z:

A good portion of page 123 is taken up with Mitcham Common with its various playing fields and golf course, along with a large landfill and Croydon Cemetery (not the same thing!). Then I noticed the south London suburb of Norbury which rang a bell with me because there on square K2 was Beatrice Aveune. My parents lived there for a couple of months (while work was being done on another house I think) when they moved to London in the early 90's after leaving me behind in Felixstowe to fend for myself. Now get this - the street that we lived on in Felixstowe was called.......Beatrice Avenue! What are the chances of that!?

Okay, I've divulged enough pointless personal history. Time for a proper book.

As I came up to the office this evening I had in my hand a book called Sowing Dragons by Geoff Ryan (sorry, I couldn't find a link anywhere - but the book does exist!) Perhaps I can give a little background to this choice. Last week I attended a conference that I have briefly blogged about below (and will try a few more reflections in the future). One of the guest speakers was Geoff Ryan, a Salvation Army officer (minister) in an urban setting of Canada. Towards the end of the conference a small group of us went out for a curry and I got chatting to Geoff. I told him that I had read this book (I think this was his first - a collection of essays) and, for some reason, shared with him that this was the only book I have thrown across the room as I was reading it. He asked me why that was, but to my shame I couldn't remember. I guess the action was more memorable than the content. Anyway, I said I'd read it again and let him know what provoked such a response.

This evening I did a preliminary flick through. but to no avail. I had already decided that I would take this book out for coffee sometime soon and see what shows up. I'll let you know. Anyway, basically this book is about calling Salvationists (and others) back to a radical lifestyle of mission and discipleship that The Salvation Army was known for in its early days as it connected with society in relevant ways....or did it? The requested sentences actually give quite a good taster, coming after the quote or a russian proverb, "You can't predict the past."

"In The Salvation Army,we, too, have an honoured tradition of historical revisionism and I contend that, in reality, things were nothing like what we imagined they were in the beginning. We were no more "relevant" as a form of Christian Church then than we are today. We wedded dance hall revelry to scriptural holiness, brought theatre into the pews, soiled the perfumed doilies of Victorian spinsters with the mud of the streets and the stench of gin palaces and ordained wild-eyed fanatics as ministers of the Gospel."

Whoa. All that preamble for just three sentences.

Here is who I have tagged:

Nick because he is my brother-in-law and we have a secret pact of trying to direct online traffic each others way. (opps, secret's out).

Howard because he deals daily with those who have suffered the effects of the "gin palaces".

Steve because I wanted to bring a little bit of Salvationist thought to his Anglican musings.

Andrew because he is an old friend who firmly believes in the need to return to the passion of early day Salvationists.

Dave because he said he was lacking some brain stimulation.

PS. If you do respond to the tag please leave a comment below with a link to your post.

PPS. If I didn't tag you and you feel left out let me know and I'll break the 5 person rule.

Conference Coffee

Just back from the conference in London I wrote about the other day: all about 'Incarnational' mission. It was good stuff. It challenged my thinking, gave me some answers and, as I suspected, left some questions unresolved. But that's ok becauase it means that the conference carries on in my head!

A few things stood out for me.

First, things haven't changed regarding the coffee machines since I was there last. Fortunately there was a coffee stand in the train station across the road and a Starbucks just down the hill. It soon became obvious that I wasn't the only one desperate for a decent cup of coffee. (Caffine - the drug of choice for Christians, right?)

One of the best things was that my sister was presenting a paper. It was excellent. It was based around the ministry that her and her husband have created in the multi-cultural/multi-faith society in the eastend of London. You can find out more about them here.

I was also good to catch up with people I know and meet new friends from around the world trying to work out what it means to be a church in the city today. If you get a chance, check out one Salvation Army area of ministry in one of the toughest neighbourhoods in Toronto.

It was a great couple of days talking, laughing, staying up late, agreeing, disagreeing, worshipping and learning.

(Big thanks to my wife who stayed at home with the kids. J, you're great!)

Waiting...

My internet connection has been really slow tonight. (Broadband with speeds up to 4mbps - yeah right!)

I noticed at the bottom of my web browser that it advises me what is currently happening with my requests to flit form one page to another. Because it's been slow tonight it has read, 'Waiting for..' and then lists the web address I had clicked on.

I smiled when I clicked on my own blog. It said: Waiting for...regularlatte
- and I felt myself standing in a line with others waiting for the barista to do what she does best.

Hmm, the internet. A possible metaphor for my life.

Crossing Cultures

Isn't it funny how relatively trivial thoughts can lead you into deeper areas of thinking...or is it just me?

For instance...

I ran into my local supermarket to get a couple of things. As I was checking-out there was a small group of 20-somethings in front of me speaking to the cashier in an other language. I'm pretty sure it was Polish. Now this isn't an uncommon experience. Encountering the "new Irish" in this way is a daily occurrence. Nothing particularly unusual. But I came away asking this question:

How do people of the same culture wind up finding each other when they live in another country? Am I just not very good at that or are other cultures more inclined to mono-cultural attraction?

As an Englishman living in Ireland for almost five years there aren't very many other Brits that I know really well despite the fact that the British are still the highest population of immigrants in Ireland. (Maybe it has something to do with not going to very many pubs?!)

Then I started going deeper in my thinking. If my purpose in life is to embody something of the person of Jesus and present him as the benefit for not only the life-to-come, but the life-right-now, then how do I do that with people from vastly different backgrounds to my own? How do I "incarnate the gospel"? Is it even possible to incarnate the gospel in an urban, multicultural, pluralistic society?

Let me put it this way: How would I, as a middle-class, 21st century Englishman living in Ireland, talk to a newly immigrated Nigerian woman in a relevant and understandable way about a Jewish man who lived in first century Palestine? I only ask because, living in the city, there is every chance that she will be behind me at the supermarket checkout.

I'm attending a conference next week that might help shed some light on this subject. However, I think it may just bring up more questions!

So where would you start? Perhaps you start with common ground. Perhaps you start with coffee.

Not much effort, really

Happy New Year to you all!

I'm not really one for new year's resolutions. I mean, really, what's the point? It only seems to lead to failure and a sense of guilt. I once thought (as a kind of anti-resolution) that I would endeavour to start smoking. My plan was to begin with the patches and work my way up to 40 cigs a day, plus the occasional cigar. And a pipe. Needless to say that due to a lack of real (or sensible) motivation, plus my inauguration into the 'No Smoking Club' at age seven I have yet to even taste a stick of nicotine gum.

However!

One resolution we can all make, regardless of the time of year, is furthering our efforts to just generally be nice to people. May I make a practical suggestion?

This evening, in order to somehow prepare me for grocery shopping, I stopped for a coffee. It still being the Christmas season, I opted for a large latte. My eyes were naturally drawn towards the comfy seats - swiftly followed by my legs - only to find half a dozen empty cups on the table and a couple of smoothies next to the chair.

In fairness it wasn't all that long before a staff member cleared the mess, but it caused me to resolve that I would clear my mess up as best I can when leaving a coffee shop thereby making life a little easier for the staff and a little more comfortable for the next customer.

Perhaps you will be inspired to similar acts of niceness in the weeks and months ahead!