Mike's musings

A slightly later start today, with an 8am service, and after breakfast straight onto a morning about Godly Play. It's a type of play tailored for children between 4-8 (though it can apparently work for older children and adults) which tries not to push answers down their throats, but to help them to discover the answers themselves. For instance, we were shown one about the parable of the lost sheep, and there was lots about the shepherd knowing all the sheep's names, but nothing about who the shepherd is himself, which is that obvious question that's supoosed to be raised (with the equally obvious answer: "Jesus"). There were things I liked about it, and I watched a three-year old son of one of the other ordinands watching, enthralled, which was quite convincing. I know that I tend to shy away from this style of pastoral work, and tried to be open. In fact, when they sent us away after the first session to reflect/use artworks, etc., I found myself writing some quite interesting poetry. But I continued to have some issues, and I discovered in our group work, and afterwards in the second session, that I was certainly not alone. It wasn't helped, for me, by a rather patronising DVD where they introduced the (excellent!) Godly Play[tm] (really!) room in Trumpington. They had some adults in to look around it and the relating between the people was entirely as children, which I was not alone in finding more than a little odd. One thing I did like was that they had a child-sized church, with lectern, altar, altar furniture, chalice, patten, etc.. I was concerned that some people with a high church background might be worried about children "playing at eucharist", but a discussion with a couple of people yielded that as long a proper respect is engendered, they're quite happy.

There are certainly things that we can learn from Godly Play, and if were in a position to use them, I would (we have pitifully few children coming to our services at the moment). One problem seems to be that it's presented very much as a complete package: they don't seem happy for you to pick and choose what works for you. If this were a tried, tested and refined methodology, I'd be more convinced, but any wrapped up methodology that seems to have sprung ready-made from a guru, and which you're not allowed to pick and choose from, worries me. This may be unfair, and maybe we didn't have enough time to get a full picture, but that was the impression I left with. The afternoon session was set aside for work on preaching: we watched a couple of sermons from members of the staff, then discussed them with each other before giving feedback and then getting the reactions of the preacher him/herself. Generally interesting, and I had a short discussion with Esther about how to balance the quiet, reasoned classic Protestant style with the fervour that it might sometimes feel right to express - something that's come up before in this blog. Her view is that there's no right answer, and that you have to go with the context, your own spirituality, and what feels right.

During the afternoon slot, I managed, finally, to get some people together to sing the Purcell I'd brought along ("Remember not, Lord, our offences"). 2 basses, 1 tenor, 4 altos (!), 2 second sopranos, 2 first sopranos. The level of sight-reading was pretty poor, so I decided to concentrate on a very short passage. I told them that I expected to spend at least 10 minutes on the first 2 and a half bars (which brought some intakes of breath), and I nearly did, too. Getting the ensemble just right. Words. Length of breath. We then moved on, and, in the end, managed about 12 bars. And some of it was great: I was really pleased. For some, it was nothing new working in that sort of a way (Richard, one of the basses, for instance, and Susanna, one of the sopranos), but hopefully they enjoyed it: all those I've spoken to said they did. I'd carefully timed the rehearsal to run straight into the official choir rehearsal, and finished a little early so as not to step on any toes. I'd also announced that the timing was aimed at allowing people to stay on to sing in the "proper choir", which seems to have gone down all right. I hope to choose some fairly challenging short pieces (some Byrd/Tallis/Desprez mass setting Kyries, for instance) for the weekends we have, send them out by email early, and try to find a half hour at some point to have a sing (hopefully not a note-bash). Didn't really mind that fact that I wasn't singing, rather to my surprise.

It's been a good day, and I've made more friends. My previous blogs have been from my mobile, and I've not had much chance to discuss this, but there are some great people on the course, and some great tutors. I've felt I've really got on well with Esther and Helen in particular: I look forward to interacting more with the academically through the course. Other people of note include Charles, Mark, who wanted some advice about a problem which I knew something about, Becky, Sarah and Sheila (all from my selection conference), and a whole bunch of other people I'm afraid I can't be bothered to name right now.

So, all-in-all, a good day, particularly as England were 229-4 at close of play.