It's been a funny old week. The sort of week that you get to the other side and think, what the heck happened?
I started work. I am LOVING being back with the kids - I didn't realise how much I missed working with children till I started playing tig with them. The staff... well that's an issue I may elaborate on at a later point. It is very tiring (especially running around playing tig!) and the travelling is something I could do without, but the kids are ace and I get paid to play, so I have nothing to complain about. Even better - I got a phonecall this morning telling me not to go in. I was a bit worried that I had been sacked after 3 days but it turns out there was a powercut so I got an unexpected day off, which was helpful!
As for uni - I've done this weeks tutorial reading, and started my Judaism essay (Does liberal ideology, in fact, promote religious tolerance and the equality of religions? What price must be paid for tolerance and equality?) so uni is getting there. A bit concerned that essays/my Islam presentation/exams are creeping up on me but I'm sure I'll fit it in. Somehow.
I went to Glasgow and saw the sights, and even better, Laura! It was fantastic to see her again, and have a wander around the Cathedral, Religious Artefact Museum and Gallery of Modern Art. How awfully cultured; such a spiffing day. Great to see her, can't wait until Christmas when we all have to attempt to be in one place at one time! In the evening (after a trip to Pizza/Pasta Hut we joined Chris and Other Laura to go to ((deep)). To be honest, I'm still not entirely sure what I thougth of it. Garry's words were powerful. I won't say I agreed with them all and I won't say I agreed with quite a lot of the delivery, but it was a bit like the slap in the face you need to wake you up in the event of a fire.
Be a William or Catherine Booth... Made all the more interesting by Sunday's Corps Anniversary service, who also took the Booth family as an example for entering the world and changing it. I just can't work out where I stand on this. It's a statement that evokes a revolutionary spirit; thinking outside the box to fulfil a need. All very admirable, and something I think we need today. The Salvation Army is respected for it's response to human need and it's approach to God. As the (in my opinion fabulous) motto goes
Heart to God, Hand to Man. However, (and I feel terrible for following that with a however - what heartless person does that?!) I also think that the Salvation is as much about the random churchgoer as it is about the revolutionaries. William Booth would have been a nice man who did his best to help and was forgotten about pretty soon after death if it weren't for all the nameless people who have carried on his work. They may not have started up soup kitchens, they may not be ministering to the prostitutes, but they've given their financial support, their time, their effort in the little thing and most importantly their prayerful support. These people are the backbone of the Army. The ones who help with the harvest display, who set out the chairs on a Sunday, who cook for fellowship meals, who give their money and prayers to those on frontline work. Without them the Salvation Army wouldn't exist. If we are called to be a Booth then it would be terrible to turn our back on it. But if we are called to use our talents in different ways, then wouldn't it be just as bad to ignore that?
I also thought that Garry was (through intention or not) asking for a public 'hallelujah' reaction to himself. He wanted someone to stand up and say they would be a Booth. Perhaps missing the point that it is not reaction to a person, but a response to God that is required. It may not be a hallelujah externally, perhaps even internally one is in turmoil because they have come to a realisation. No matter what, it is God who needs to be told first.
Garry did make me think though. He made me think about the guys who hang around the back of the flat. Who smoke and drink and sing at 3am. Who stab and punch and kick. Who may be going to hell because all I do in regards to them is mutter under my breath, pull my covers up and roll over. I think it is important for Edinburgh City to reach out to the youth - to those in the Army and not. I don't know if I feel called to have a part in this yet, or if I am having a bit of a Jonah moment, but something needs to be done, and I feel it needs to happen among the young.
After such brain aching I raced back to the station to experience a bit of a first - I missed a train. Anyone who knows me knows my almost phobia of lateness. So imagine my horror as the train pulled away. Anyway, I managed to grab the next train back and it was the weirdest train journey I've ever experienced. First a couple (or at least amorous pair - I'm pretty sure they had only met each other that evening) plonked themselves opposite and canoodled all the way to Croy, causing my concentration on my reading on Islamic Art to intensify. All was well after they departed us at Croy, until the guys across the aisle decided a bit of drunken Frank Sinatra was in order. Until a disruption appeared in the shape of not one, but two massive brawls on the train, which were broken up by various people dragging them apart. It shouldn't have been, but it was just hilarious!
Anyway, the evening was not yet over. Upon my arrival at the flat, my flatmate told me about a friend of hers (and passing acquaintance of mine) who had passed away. Duncan was 20 years old, and the other half of one of the very first conversations I had in Fresher's Week. I have a very vivid recollection of his argument that it took him longer to get to Edinburgh from Shetland than it did people from China! His sudden death brought home an awareness of my mortality that I hadn't really experienced until that point. He was a fit young man who died at 20. Twenty. His family and friends (of which my flatmate is one) must be devastated. How do you ever come to terms with the death of your twenty year old son? I think it's a case of never. You may train yourself not to cry the fact he had been so cruelly taken from you, but you'll never understand it, you may cope, but you'll never forget. Twenty. We may be young, but we are not invincible. He does give and take away, even when we don't understand why. Rest in peace Duncan.
