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part 3/3. It’s been a few days now, since Westcott and the Cambridgeshire signs disappeared in the rear view mirror. I meant to be really conscious of noting the emotions as they went past, especially in the last week, but it was easier (ish) to live them than to record them. The beginning of leavers week was much more more…

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…part 2 of 3. How  much stuff? So many boxes I can’t (and daren’t, even if I could) count, and already I’m shattered just with dragging them round the place. But the house is *so* much nicer without the mouldy carpet, and it feels like it could be home. Little things – the price of petrol, beer (unbelievably cheaper in Aldi for 4 than even for one bottle in the new bar pricing), the friendliness of the people. Pizza it is. The new cooker is in and fitted, but the kitchen needs a massive clean when eventually I get hot water. The chore of cooking for myself rears its ugly head instantly. Hmm. It was surprisingly emotional to more…

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or, part 1 of 3 on leaving Westcott. Such a quick turnaround, one minute we’re stuffing in bits of Public Theology knowledge as fast as we can read them, hoping they don’t go straight through, next we’re stuffing stuff in boxes to be stuffed in vans ready to be off. No lying round picnicking this year, it’s out into the big wide world… Which is, of course, the whole point of Westcott, to turn us out for service, out of the comfortable if not always comfortable shelter of our community to the people of God who called us into it in the first place. Bit scary, bit exciting. Due to the bank holiday for Jubilee. I’ll be moving my belongings sooner than a lot, and I remember last year thinking that this more…

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Lots of things to blog instead of revising, some I made a note of, some I didn’t, some I will, some I shouldn’t, but fundamentally, suddenly just one thing to say. Having struggled to say goodbye to James and Caz on Monday, knowing Andrew and I were competing(!) to be next, this morning saw Andy gleefully leaping about saying 7 sleeps 7 sleeps – to the end of the exams.  Nope, said I, to the end. 7 sleeps to the end. In 7 sleeps I’ll be heading off to race the removal van up north. Mahoosive reality check. Permission to freak out yet…?

Genuinely, I can’t work out how I feel about this. I knew it was around the corner, but I don’t think I expected to get to the corner and hardly notice, and then when I get to it, to see the round the corner looming quite so large. Just the small matter of Public Theology en route…

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It’s Ember card season and I have already been overwhelmed by the beauty and creativity of my cohort. It is an absolute joy every day to see something new and different, personal and yet eminently buy-into-able, often but not at all always surprising, often but not at all always match-up-to-the-owner-able. Yesterday more…

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Tomorrow is Holocaust Memorial Day. Last year, we had a powerful and poignant service created by the students from across the Federation who took the Jewish-Christian Relations Intensive. Like last year, we were again treated to a commemoration of gentleness and pain, of sombre hope and determination never to forget. It’s the Greater Silence for us now after compline. Tonight, instead of more…

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Planning prayers for tutor group breakfast last weekend I was saddened to read of two deaths, of a soldier from 5 Rifles and the news of Gary Speed’s death, pretty much my favourite player while he was at Newcastle. Another soldier’s loss fell all too quickly from the headlines, while the papers went to town on the celebrity, tributes pouring in to Speed saying things like “he was such a professional” and “he had so much to live for”. Sadly, in the aftermath of a suicide, you hear more…

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No, for once, not coffee. I’ve half a dozen blog posts in my head, as usual, and need to be writing an essay on Aquinas and the common good, but while I was researching some uptodate thinking on it, I found this and need to share. On Saturday morning, I was at the latter half of the Cathedral’s Prisons Week seminar, on addictions and rehabilitation.

There was a great presentation from 4Real, a jointly commissioned service that doesn’t reach quite to my side of Gateshead next year, and also a fascinating paper by Prof Chris Cook more…

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Yesterday was an open day. Last year, at the spring open day, I was serving coffee with a couple of leavers, and discussing how it was different for them, who didn’t really take too much notice of who was coming on open day, as they’d not be here to meet them, while we did, because we were acutely aware that these would be people we’d be sharing our lives with.

Yesterday, I was conscious, buddying someone who’s doing Sam’s old job, an ex-Jesus undergraduate who has been into Westcott bar and seen dancing on the bar (apparently so, I promise it wasn’t me), that I felt slightly differently, that I was actually rather sad that I’d never really get to know these people. And a couple I spoke to were really interesting conversations about all that many of us think is important – more…

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A year ago, or a little over, when I arrived at vicar factory, I had no idea if I’d ever be any good at preaching, and it was the thing that, honestly, scared me most. Tonight, on the way to evensong, a new student was telling me how nervous they were of performing in public. I couldn’t resist smiling, thinking that I hoped they were going to stay on after evensong for the Eucharist, where I gave my college sermon, because more…

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