Ducks at Duck Church

Sara is very unwell today - her previous cold has come back with a vengeance.  I was up at 5.30 a.m. and took Thom to the village stores so that he could put in the Sunday paper inserts before going out on his round.  Having got up I couldn't get back to sleep so made tea and pottered around this morning - making some American pancakes for breakfast with banana crushed into the mix - yummy.

I went to All Saints Church this morning to attend the Team Eucharist.  All the ministry team were there apart from Elizabeth.  A good service which was reasonably well attended but no more than there would be for a Winterslow-only service. Nils gave an excellent sermon based on Colossians 3 12-17 and Kierkegaard's Ducks.  A wonderful parable.  The story talks of a bunch of ducks who waddled to "duck church" where they heard a wonderful preacher-duck tell them how God created wings for them so that they could soar, explore and reach their full potential.  Amen "quacks" punctuated the sermon and the ducks remarked what a wonderful sermon it was - then waddled out of church back to their homes.  Nils' theme was that by following Jesus's teachings we can find that we have the love already inside us and it is not a matter of trying to gain more but a matter of expressing the love we already have and in that way we are truly loved ourselves.  He remarked that being a full follower of Christ we need to embrace a holy life - that is holy sharing, holy meeting and generally being with other Christians daily - not just on Sunday in church - and acting in a Christ-like way.  He challenged that he thought that only a very small minority do that.  This was one of the most "Lutheran" of sermons I had heard from him and I fully endorse what he says. Back home I took over responsibility for feeding the cats of a friend of Mary's.  I lit a fire and Sara and I watched another Miss Marple story on the television this afternoon.  Tonight I have been catching up on my electronic mail and have been shocked to learn of the death of a Freemason colleague of mine in Hove.  It seems that nearly every year begins with a death and a funeral these days.  A early night beckons as I was up so early this morning.  As I write this it is already 9.40 p.m.