The weekend before last I had a Rather Large Birthday. Once upon a time I was rather cagey about my birthdate, but a friend who at one stage thought she might never reach another birthday showed me how they could be fun, so now I don't hide the fact. However Swanvale Halt church hasn't had an incumbent hit 40 in-post for simply ages, and I was not only serenaded with 'Happy Birthday' at the end of the service but had a cake served afterwards.
Part of the point of the incarnation of God the Son is that human beings, individual, real human beings with names and histories, are important because we bear his stamp and something of his nature. We glimpse God in each other. Still, I have a rush of discomfort that the church may focus too much of its attention on me and my personality (to which part of me is tempted to play up) rather than on the One for whom it exists, and this may only get more extreme when the curate leaves. The priest is key to the church community, but has to work to keep their centrality within proper bounds.
Happy birthday, old thing!
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