...from talented young people, in a magnificent "Kids Prom" at St James Church, Islington. Among the talented young performers - all in their early teens - was a young relative. Auntie sat glowing with pride. Cello, piano, violin, flute, trumpet, clarinet, voice...some fabulous pieces of music, and all in the beauty of a lovely church on an Autumn evening, with home-made cakes (the young team had done those, too) in the interval. Afterwards, a talkative time at a family gathering, young people munching pizza, parents and grandparents and friends and neighbours enjoying wine and everyone in the afterglow of a wonderful concert...this is Britain at its best.
Home on the Tube. Slithered on the vomit on the floor, but managed toget to a seat. As new passengers arrived, we all - strangers, but united in mild adversity - united to warn them of the need for care. "Ugh!" "Yuk" "How gross..." . One girl, in a hurry, slithered and fell. As I passed tissues and commiserations, we all got talking. They askd me what I was reading. "um...well...theology. I'm doing some study - one of those part-time degrees. Loving it." We got talking about God, the Bible, Christ. "What's your take on it?" a girl asked, with genuine friendly curiosity, as one pondering some odd new information or weird piece of news. "Well...." I thought for a long moment. "I don't think Christ was lying....I think he was who he said he was. And I think it's stunning: that God didn't stay remote from us, but came and joined in...." And as we talked, there was an extraordinary bond., and somehow something beautiful, as we carefully made our way out past the vomit on the floor and the shrieking youngsters at the station, to the bus stop and our various homes.
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