Wednesday 13 August 2003

A job that I'm filling in the form for calls itself a temporary job, but does not say how long that is. I want to find out if that means two months or something, because if that were the case, it would hardly seem worth bothering. I find that it is a two year temporary contract. What an odd way of thinking about things.

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Hilary Goodwin came round for tea today. Hilary is one of the people who came to the church plant, Southwood, that Dad was the vicar for immediately after his curacy. In November it will be 10 years old; I've been invited back. Well not just me obviously. Anyway, she came for tea, leaving husband and two boys behind her for a bit, and we talked of many things; of shoes and ships and sealing-wax, of cabbages and kings. Actually it was quite theological - ecclesiological rather. Things like christenings, Anglican canon law (I never even knew there was such a thing, but apparently Dad promised to follow it a while back) the appointment of women to the priesthood, and of homosexuals to the espiscopacy, of falling away and of speaking in tongues. It made a change from sola scriptura anyway.