'Digging a hole....'

What an interesting week last week was! At time I felt as if I was living in an episode of 'The Vicar of Dibley'!

To start with, there was the 'Saga of the Hole'.
My neighbour is having some work done on her house and needed to know where her mains water pipe and stopcock were. When I heard this I thought - 'I'd like to know where mine is too' - as around 5 years ago I'd tried to have a Water Meter fitted and Anglian Water couldn't find the Mains Water Pipe.
So a hole was dug - a large hole - but no pipes were found - although a broken telephone wire was discovered!
The hole remained for around 10 days - until two men and another digger arrived and eventually found the pipe. Bear in mind that we are in a drought at present - and the rain has been raining for a month - the hole was then full of water!
The contractors very kindly found my water main and fitted a stopcock for me too - so good to to discover people using common sense and doing something extra without having to go through a load of extra protocol!
The hole then had to be filled, so in the pouting rain on Thursday, there were two men - a big lorry and a bucket on a pole, emptying the hole of water and refilling it with soggy clay soil! Most amusing - but probably funnier at the time!

Ministry also had it's amusing moments - that sort of 'dark' humour shared by nurses, doctors, ministers ans undertakers!
I was to take a Sunday morning service at one of the village chapels (not originally on my timetable but my colleague had rather spectacularly double booked herself and was going to be in Ireland on Ministers' Spring School that morning).
It wasn't just a 'normal' morning service as immediately after the service we were to bury the ashes of the husband of a church member.
The day dawned and the forecast was for rain - what a surprise! But the sun was making a brave effort as I drove the 30+ miles through Suffolk. When I arrived at the chapel, the hole was dug in the church garden and all was well.
The Funeral Director - a man who wouldn't look out of place in a Dickensian Novel - arrived.
Carrying the Casket - a rather splendid light oak box complete with brass plaque on the lid - and sitting on a red velvet 'cushion.
The widow and daughter hadn't arrived yet and Mr Diggett (sic) was concerned that he hadn't informed them that he would have the casket with him - plus he didn't want to leave it outside.
The question was - where could he put it during the service - and would it matter is Betty saw it?
A good 5 minutes were then spent taking the oak casket around the small chapel trying to find a place where It would be out of sight. Lots of sitting in various pews and working out sight lines ensued!! And then Betty & her daughter arrived - Mr Diggett decided that honesty was the best policy and told them that he couldn't leave Arthur outside, so had brought him into church. 'That's lovely!', said Betty, he can share a service with us for the last time.
'Just as long as he doesn't get up and sing the final hymn - Arthur's hymn - 'Will your anchor hold' ' I thought to myself!

Apart from the organ not working - a suitable piano was employed instead - the service passed without incident - although Mr Diggett fell asleep during the sermon - at least his eyes were closed!!!
So we all went outside,  and stood around the hole in the church garden - now surrounded by green astro turf. The sun had been overtaken by clouds and rain wasn't far off. I said the words, the casket was placed in the hole and I read a blessing - or at least I started to read a blessing - for just as I started the sun broke through the clouds and the birds started singing. I've no real idea what I actually said, but it was one of those moments in ministry where God's voice was heard and we all had a real sense of his presence as we said our farewell to Arthur.

There were other moments that week - namely the two old ladies in a home who discovered they'd gained an extra day - but I shall leave this post now - reflecting on two holes in the ground!