This Week...

An interesting and very busy week.

It has been a week that has seen:

• The return of the wandering cat.
• My licensing to the parishes of St Peter's, Fairfield, Buxton and Christ Church King Sterndale.
• The assembling of a wardrobe.
• The writing of two sermons
• A burial of cremated remains
• The preparation of new service booklets
• A bit of gardening, in between downpours
• A bit of shopping for stationery
• The writing of an article for the parish magazine
• And much, much more!

Tomorrow, I take my first Sunday services at St Peter's and I am a little bit excited about that!

New Beginings

It has been quite a while since I have blogged. The reason for this is that the Edwards household has once again pulled up anchor and moored in a different place. The move, combined with difficulties in arranging telephone/internet access resulted in my silence on the blogging front.

Four wonderful and memorable years in Grimsby have now come to an end, and the 'new beginning' starts in earnest on June 16th when I will be licensed to the parish church of St Peter, Fairfield, Buxton along with pastoral responsibility for Christ Church, King Sterndale. It is a bit of a homecoming for my wife and I as we both spent much of our formative years in the area. The local paper did a bit of an article about my arrival.

We have expended much energy in getting settled into our new home, the garden has been as much the focus of this as the house itelf, and we are already beginning to develop a sense of belonging.

Although not yet working in the parish; today, the production of new Service Booklets for church, was on my agenda, and after giving this some attention, a trip to the tip was deemed necessary to dispose of (amongst other things) my eldest son's old 'captains bed'.

Perhaps there is a message in that about growing up and clearing things out that you have grown beyond. Perhaps this is what happens spiritually too as our faith grows and develops.

There are two waste recycling facilities within reach (!) of Buxton, one in Glossop, the other in Macclesfield and both of these involve a round trip of about 3o miles. Although a busy little town, Buxton lacks facilities such as this, which can be a bit irksome.

Meanwhile, the cat has gone AWOL, and despite numerous efforts to find her, she remains lost.

Tomorrow, I visit 'Flash' said to be the highest village in England, at about 1450 ft about sea level. It is their well-dressing and thanksgiving service, which should be an interesting experience.

Yamaha XVS650 Dragstar

My bike... as it says in the title, a Yamaha XVS650 DragStar.

The photo was taken last year at Cleethorpes. Since then I have added various items to the bike namely: Forward controls to extend the leg room, a screen to enable more comfort at motorway speeds, a rear carrier, pannier supports and panniers for carrying stuff. The exhaust has also had a slight modification to enable it to breath more freely. It is a little bit louder than standard, but not excessively so.

Motorcycling affords me the opportunity to take time out in an activity that is totally absorbing and great fun. We all need to recharge our batteries from time to time, and the bike opens doors for ministry in a way that little else could.

Squires Cafe' Bar

Today I went out for a ride on my Yamaha XVS650 Dragstar to Squires Cafe Bar near Sherburn-in-Elmet. Squires is one of the traditional biker gathering place, and I had arranged to meet up with members of the Christian Motorcycling Club whilst there.

We met, we drank tea, ate fish and chips, and I took a few photos (with my mobile phone... poor quality when they're enlarged).


1974 GL1000 Honda Goldwing. One of the first, I imagine as they were first produced around this time. A bit ugly to look at, but a pioneering design. The water-cooled horizontally opposed flat four engine was renowned for its reliability and the Goldwing has continued in various guises since these very early ones. A couple of years ago, I owned a 1981 GL1100 Goldwing. There were changes in styling of course, and although my bike was a 'naked' machine, Goldwings were becoming known for their sheer size - the fairing, the luggage capacity, their performance and reliability making them the ultimate long-distance touring machines. The one picture here is a very fine example and to my eye looks very close indeed to original.


Kawasaki KH750 Mach III. An even earlier offering from Kawasaki. For those who aren't in the know, Kawasaki produced a range of 2-stroke triple cylinder machines including this one, the largest in the range. All of the KH range had a fierce reputation, the 750 particularly so. Hardly surprising when you see firstly, how narrow the rear tyre is compared to those on a modern motorcycle, and secondly, how fragile the frame looks. These factors combined with the power characteristics of the engine conspired to bring about a motorcycle that was (by reputation, rather than personal experience) very awkward to handle, with cornering abilities comparable to a drunk camel.

My experience of the Kawasaki 2-stroke triples is limited to a 1975 KH250 which I owned in the early 1980's. It was great fun, but alarming in wet weather. Spray from the road would cause the middle cyclinder to cut in and out sporadically which made accelerating out of corners interesting when the power came on unexpectedly.


Another offering from Kawasaki. This time the Z900. This bike with it's DOHC in-line four cylinder engine was one of the first 'Superbikes'. It was, I believe Kawasaki's answer to the slightly earlier Honda CB750 (SOHC, four cylinder engine). I don't know a great deal about these other than the fact that there were lots of them in a cult Australian biker film called 'Stone'.

If the number plate is anything to go by, this bike also dates from 1974, and like the Goldwing above, to my eye, it looks very close to original. A beautiful restoration.

My only experience with the larger Kawasaki's was a 1978 Z750 Twin. It was rattly, it vibrated, it was a pig to start, and nowhere near as refined as the four cylinder models. Mine was a wee bit customised, with very loud pipes that got me into trouble once, and it also had a beautifully tooled leather seat. It was still a bag of spanners though!

Finally, a photo of a chap who takes his dog on his bike with him in a specially adapted baby carrier. No helmet or goggles though. The dog seemed very happy to be strapped and sat comfortably on the rider's lap and bikes petrol tank, once in position.

Maundy Thursday

I wonder what the disciples thought?

For three years, they had followed Jesus. A path of discipleship.

Their lives had been completely transformed, they had been challenged, provoked, encouraged and blessed by this person. This amazing and unique person, Jesus Christ.

Through their association with him they had even performed miracles themselves. In his name and under his authority . This must have given them status, recognition, credibility that none of them could ever have imagined.

They had seen the crowds cheering them on their way into Jerusalam. More than that, they had been a part of the triumphant procession, associates of this man for whose sake the streets were lined with people. ‘Hosanna, blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord’

These disciples must have felt exuberant, jubilant, proud even and filled with excitement and expectation.

I wonder what they expected at this meal that they shared together?

In the three years that they had been together, they had seen and done so many things together. They had laughed, worked, wept and journeyed to this point, on the night before he was betrayed.

And here they were, gathered together, the food passing to and fro, various conversations taking place around the table, the disciple John reclining next to Jesus leaning slightly against him as they sat around the crowded table.

What did they expect?

Did they expect a briefing on the plan of action for the next day. A delegation of responsibilities as Jesus took his place as King? Who will be at his left? Who will be at his right? Did they expect a motivational speech or a celebration of victory.

What they didn’t expect, what they couldn’t have expected were the events that unfolded that evening, as Christ took a towel and began to perform that most menial task, the task that the lowest of servants was charged with, and began to wash the disciples feet.

What kind of king is this? What kind of example is this? How can you reign when you behave like a slave, a possession, chattel to be bought, sold and dismissed as completely insignificant.

Let’s think for a moment about the church. We have our magnificent buildings, we have our elaborate rituals, we have our liturgies, our traditions, our vestments and finery. All to the end of bringing glory to God. There is nothing wrong with any of that. Surely God deserves the best we can offer.

There is a danger within all of this to forget what we are doing it all for. Yes we are here to bring glory to God, and yes in our worship there is a place for excess, for over indulgence, for an unstinting approach. Did not the woman pour out the alabaster jar of perfume upon Jesus? And was she not commended for this act of sheer excess? This is absolutely the case.

Maundy Thursday though, serves to remind us that there is so much more to being a follower of Christ than coming to church, than sharing in the eucharist, than singing our hymns and psalms, than engaging with the story of the Passion and other key moments in the life of Christ, not that I am belittling the importance of any of those things, however Maundy Thursday serves to remind us that our generosity should be unmeasured. It reminds us that our love should be without boundaries, that we are here to serve one another and those around us and that our humility should be like that pattern that he gave us.

The sister of Charity, the order to which Mother Teressa belonged, have in their washroom a notice. It is in this room that the crippled, the beggars, the diseased, the dying are washed and cared for. The notice says ‘This is the body of Christ.’

A huge part of the expression of our faith is serving. This was what was demonstrated to us by Jesus when he took the towel and washed the feet of his disciples.

‘I have given you an example, that you should do as I have done to you… If you know these things, blessed are if you do them.’

From Palm Sunday

As is the custom at St Giles' our Palm Sunday involved a procession from the shopping are in Scartho village centre to the parish church of St Giles with St Matthew.

It was a beautiful day, as we walked to church bearing palm leaves, palm crosses, the banner of St Giles church and that of the former church of St Matthew.

What a contrast between the jubilation of the triumphant entry of Jesus and the disciples into Jerusalem and the events of the passion that were soon to unfold, and which were the focus of our readings on this day.

On Tallness

Very often the reaction that I get from people when I meet them for the first time involves a comment on my height.... I am 6'6" tall. The onset of middle age has diminished my stature from 6'7". The impact of my height is perhaps accentuated by the fact that I am also slim. Consequently I am very familiar with phrase 'What's the weather like up there?'

After the rather difficult teenage years, as an adult I have learned to be comfortable with my physique, after all it is the only one I have got and as well as the drawbacks and attention that it attracts, being tall does have its advantages.

Nevertheless I occasionally find it irksome that people feel at liberty to comment on my height whereas if I was to comment on their girth, it would no doubt result in offense being taken. After all, it would be considered extremely rude to approach a person with a weight problem and make the comment... 'Goodness me, you are fat!'

This reminds me of the time a few years ago when, whilst out shopping, I was approached by a complete stranger who said to me... 'You must be the tallest man in town.' Considering the fact that I was in Manchester at the time, I felt that this was unlikely. Whilst I almost invariable bear such comments gracefully, on this occasion, the frustration of trying to buy clothes that fitted properly was unleashed upon the stranger and my response to this person was to say to him 'And you must be the rudest man in town.'

Why am I writing this? Well it is a thoughtline that was provoked by this news story. Whilst I have no plans for my demise within the foreseeable future, I have occasionally wondered how things will pan out for me when I finally depart this world, particularly in relation to how long my plot will be! I hope for the sake of whoever makes the arrangements, that they get the measurements right!

I suppose I ought to finish this post with a comment about the wonderful creativity of God and maybe tie it in with a scripture or two about how we are fearfully and wonderfully made (Psalm 139) Unfortunately the first scripture that came to mind was this one.