It’s official, only 315 days to go! (to Summer Madness 2010).  I’d better get organised, start thinking of which team I’ll be in next year.

Now that my body has recovered I’ve been thinking back over how much I enjoyed myself, how much I was challenged, and what just drove me nuts. I didn’t make it to many worship sessions, because I was “working”, but I was able to drift in and out of places, no queuing, courtesy of my high viz vest.  Summer Madness is a mix of worship, seminars, workshops, and christian rock, rap and riot!  My son who was also on staff, snaffled me a pair of signed drumsticks from the “4cornerz” (R&B and soul)  and they now have pride of place in the house.  Tired as I was I still managed a bit of a shuffle to 29th Chapter (Christian rap) and while I would not give up my choir robes for the world, I wish I could be regularly part of such energetic singing and movement, all while worshiping God.

There was such an amusing contrast between the appearance of the scrubbed happy campers who went off to worship on the Friday night and the rag tag bunch who meandered in on the final Tuesday  morning.  I mean, where else in the world is it acceptable to go to worship with your pillow, and in your pyjamas (complete with woolly hat and wellies)?  Where else would a speaker find it amusing to see their congregation asleep?  How many clerics ask the congregation: who hasn’t washed in the past 5 days?  Indeed, how many clerics arrive unwashed at services?  Such things are no matter to God however, and He saw only the hearts given to Him and the lives transformed and tears shed during those few short days.

I’m sure I can’t be the only one who feels unsettled on the first couple of days post Madness.  Having spent a reasonable amount of time living closely with a few thousand in a lively friendly, Christian environment, it is difficult to drive out the gates onto the Lisburn Road on that last day.  Out during the rude, bad and nasty rush hour and to go back to work the next day.  Yes I love that first shower, a sofa to lounge on and clean clothes, but I desperately miss the total 24/7 Christian experience.  You see, although old enough to be a parent to the young people I share the time with, I am as young as they in a deep Christian faith and in my arm in arm walk with Jesus.  I’m sad that many avenues are barred to me because of my chronological age, as in my heart I’m a youngster.  Having said that though the old memory isn’t what it should be.  I was blessed to be loaned a bike to get me round the site, but I kept forgetting where I’d left it.  Ok sometimes it had been ‘borrowed’ by one of my team, and then there was the time when I was zipping round only to look down and realise the bike I was on wasn’t mine.  How can someone not notice the difference between a purple mans cycle and a grey ladies cycle?  Anyway it amused everyone - ‘Head of Security Steals Bicycle’.

My happy memories are many and the challenging folk who think rules are not for them will always be with me.  Every challenge was worth it, every insult at the gate was worth it.  Every challenge enforces a set of rules to keep young hearts safe, leaving them free to worry about nothing more than where to blag a cup of hot chocolate at midnight.   Every insult wounds but is quickly healed because Jesus stands beside me.  He knew when I needed help and into my path came a hug and a prayer when I was particularly tired and low.

Roll on Summer Madness 2010!

The first night of Summer Madness (the Friday) wasn’t really the first at all.  The first night was the Thursday when everyone descended to claim pitches and try to put up a motley assortment of tents and gazeebos.  I say try to, as for the past couple of years heavy rain and wind (in July!) has made it a bit like one of those game shows.  The game this year was, how much of the tent can you get up before the downpour forces you to run giggling for shelter.  And then as quickly as the hordes descended they disappeared leaving behind an eerie silence and hundreds of expectant tents.  In my sleeping bag that Thursday night one of my last thoughts before a sound sleep had me pondering as I always do.  What did God have in store for me and the thousands of 12-18 year olds over the next few days?  My sleep was sound as all my preparations for the security team I was co-leading were in place, and I could do no more.  No more e mails, ‘phone calls, lists or last minute problems.  The calm before the storm.  God had got me thus far, but I had further to go.

Many folk would be put off camping by predicted poor weather but nothing dampened the spirits of the Summer Madness thousands as they descended on the King’s Hall Belfast site for the first night proper (the Friday) , and for some their first experience of worshiping with thousands of other people.  It was like the first day of term at some very large boarding school and an essential part of  the uniform was the wellington boot.  I read recently that wellies at festivals are distinctly part of ‘glamping’ ( a mix of glamour and camping) but thankfully this year, wellies were a statement rather than a necessity and I even got a bit of sunburn.  This year’s addition to the ‘must have’ list was the antiseptic hand wipe (a swine flu precaution).

It was the wee small hours of Saturday morning before the camp quietened and I struggled to get my large weary frame into a sleeping bag which seemed two sizes too small.  Something was a bit uneven about the bed I was in, so the first time I rolled over in bed I was almost on the floor, but I soon got used to that.  As I drifted off I was dry and comfortable and looking forward to another day.  I wondered if I’d ‘pay’ for spending the past few hours speeding round the camp on a bike.  In the fog of my brain I registered yet more yells and laughter from the campers and the drumming of heavy rain.  Where do kids get their energy from?

Each year, the King’s Hall Belfast complex is host to a large Christian festival organised by Church of Ireland, called Summer Madness.  This year’s theme was “Get Connected” and the festival ran from 3rd to 7th July.  The festival is similar to any other with tents, rain, sunshine, lack of sleep (through choice), not a lot of washing (again through choice) and far too much caffeine, sugar and saturated fats.  You’ve guessed it, all through choice, but a few days living “rough” at King’s Hall won’t have any lasting change.  Or will it?  Just ask anyone who spent time there: the Christians who deepened their faith, the young people who gave their life to Jesus then and there and the young people who experienced something of Jesus love through those around them.  As already mentioned, the Festival is organised by Church of Ireland and Summer Madness but there is a large volunteer staff team who among other things look after the site, the events, prayer ministry, security and staff catering.  Few at the festival realise that the young person who is emptying their bins or unblocking the toilets is a volunteer who has paid to be there, just where God wants them to be.  It is their ministry for a few short days.

One of Dromore Cathedral’s parishioners writes in a couple of installments of her experiences this year.

The Blog That Never Was

I have to start by apologising that this is a retrospective blog as the internet access I had hoped for couldn’t be organised.  So, I’ll try to give you a flavour of my Summer Madness starting with my overall impressions.

This year, like last I was one of the staff on the Security team, only this year, I was on a bicycle which meant I could nip round the site very easily.  I did come off the bike on a couple of occasions, but thankfully I dodged the water balloons and footballs which brought one of the security team off his bike very spectacularly. This time of year is when the eyes in the back of my head come in handy, and the young man who threw a water balloon at me soon regretted taking up the dare as even when tired, large woman on bike can easily out manoeuvre small child on foot.  Everything though was in good humour and I would have been exactly the same myself!

It’s taken a few years to find my little niche in the security team having meandered through helping with the Cathedrals’ young people, breakfast for Streereachers with Mothers’ Union, the catering team, the event crew - in fact I just kept popping up asking team leaders to “Give us a job”.  Why I enjoy the security team so much is that it feeds my mothering instincts, it enables me to chat to the young people while still keeping the site secure, the campers in one piece and enabling me to show Jesus love to each and every young person, no matter how unloved they may feel.  Not all the young people are regular church goers, and showing love is a challenge at 3am when squealing at them in the pouring rain “Into your tents.  Please!”   Now don’t go thinking the unchurched are the only ones out at that time of the morning.  On the last night, in the teeming rain, cold and very, very wet I “waded” into a crowd of campers at 3.30am only to find one of the security team looking very sheepish in the thick of things.  And so that crowd went off to bed, only to be replaced by another.

Judging by the many happy smiles I received at the front gate as campers went home, and the many “thankyou’s” I have to pass on to the Summer Madness staff and the numerous shouts of “See you next year!”,  connections were made.

I’ll leave it there for now, but rest assured I have much more to write about.  The worship, the atmosphere, the highs and the lows, but all part of God’s revealing plan in my life and in thousands of others.

The Concert

I am so very happy to report that last night’s concert, in support of the Sudan Emergency Relief Appeal was a toe tapping success.  At the end of the night donations totalled £570 with some more promised.  The ‘prize’ for the farthest travelled for the concert was a lady from Dundalk, who had made a point of including the concert in her trip to Dromore. The adult performers will hopefully forgive specific mention here of the young performers in the programme.  The audience was suitably hushed for a young singer and our two young harpists (brother and sister, accompanied by mum and dad), all parishioners of Dromore Cathedral.  There was appreciative clapping and toe tapping for the Irish Dancers from St Colman’s whose colourful dress and cheerful smiles put ‘mine hostesses’ best suit and cheeriest demeanour to shame.

The evening was opened and closed by Dromore’s own Cow Pats who as ever gave crowd pleasing renditions of traditional favourites such as “Whiskey in the Jar”.  During a short interval the catering team managed to serve supper to over one hundred people and have it all cleared away before the first note was played in the second half of the evening.  The support team for the evening ensured a pleasant welcome at the door, help with finding a seat and then like magic cleared the seats away at the end of the evening. It was encouraging to see so many of the Cathedral’s younger members there as part of the support team and thankfully few had school the next morning.  Our sound team ensured that all the wonderful instruments were heard to their best advantage.  Harps, flutes, mandolin, banjo, piano, and accordion were all a wonderful mix of sound, enriched by the voice of someone who was singing in public for the first time.  The trouble with singing beautifully in public the first time is that it ensures that it will never be the last!

We had a solo male artist singing ‘Danny Boy’.  This can be a difficult piece but it was note perfect and sung with feeling last night.  Having accompanied the solo singer, the pianist himself played to the again hushed audience and a few “Isn’t that lovely?” comments were heard up at the front.  A lone piper played the evening out and ‘pipey’ was paid with the traditional ‘wee dram’.  ‘Pipey’ and he who paid the piper were brothers from Armagh and Ballymena respectively.  Earlier in the evening the brothers, hats adorned with shamrock, strayed from the traditional feel with an old Hank Williams number “”I Saw the Light”.  This has a ‘gospel’ feel to it  and is a particular favourite of mine.   The Cow Pats closing number was a departure from ‘traditional’ as well, however “Ghost Riders in the Sky” is ‘traditoinal’ for them!

On behalf of the Sudan Support Team I would like to thank all who gave freely of their time last night and extend those thanks to all who came along to the event.  This was the last event to raise funds for the Emergency Appeal as conditions in Sudan are calmer now, though still uncertain.  The rebels of the Lord’s Resistance Army remain a threat so there is a need for our continued prayers and for our practical and financial support.

Celebration of Life of St Patrick

Throughout the evening, music and dance was interspersed with the readings from “St Patrick’s Confession” which is held to have been written towards the end of his life.  This seems to be one of the few reliable sources to which we can turn to discover what Patrick the man believed, what he taught and what he practised in his everyday life.  A self-confessed humble, unlearned man, one does wonder what he would have made of the event last night in celebration of his life.  It would probably be safe to say however that he would approve of an event which aimed to alleviate the suffering of his brothers and sisters in Christ in Sudan.  As they listened to the readings, it was hoped that the audience would keep Patrick in their minds eye.  Patrick, returning to Ireland in a little wooden boat over the rough Irish Sea, a slave no more.  Returning to those who had once held him captive.  Returning to the land of his slavery to spread the Gospel of Christ.

Dromore Cathedral’s Sudan Support Team is having a concert on St Patrick’s night 17th March to raise funds for the ongoing emergency relief in Sudan.  This is the 3rd such concert over recent years, so it’s almost an annual affair. The concert is in Cathedral Hall, Church Street, Dromore 7.45 for 8pm sharp with a suggested donation of £5 (to include light supper).  There are a couple of hours of a wonderful mix of all things traditional music wise assembled and there are dancers on their way as well.  Every entertainer is special, but it’s noteworthy that Dromore’s own Cow Pats are opening the show.

One of the team, who was reared on music writes today:

“Regarding St Patricks Night Concert.  Dromore Cathedral Hall.  7.45 for 8pm sharp!

The day planned for the delivery of invitations to all the places of worship in Dromore has arrived.  I woke at 6am.  No military campaign could match my mental planning so I hope it all pays off!

7am: Today would have been my beloved grandmother’s birthday and I am forgoing my usual ‘trip to the grave’ and lunch with my 2 remaining female relatives on Nanny’s side, to give out the invitations.  She wouldn’t mind I know and indeed would have delighted in my all my tales of how my life has been going recently.

Back to the campaign.  It stalled slightly due to the unearthly hour at which I arose.  I crept around downstairs, making sure not to wake the whole house.  Wouldn’t do to annoy the hubby.  He was to be my accomplice with engine running as I darted from church to church.  Do you know I feel like a child on Christmas morning.  Is it time yet? Is that Daddy’s foot on the floor, can I get up now?  This must be what our poor wee dog goes through every morning.  As soon as our foot touches the floor she’s up the stairs.  Used to go like a rocket she did, but now old age and exploding girth has meant it’s a plod up to see who made the noise and will they let her onto the bed or put her out.

9am:  And so here I sit and wait in ‘the downstairs room’.  As usual I’m surrounded by half a dozen books and here I regularly fall asleep surrounded by them and all the associated writing paraphernalia.  Some day I’m going to impale myself as I sleep on the many pointed pencils I keep.  I daren’t close my eyes today in case I miss a few hours daylight.

This morning in particular I give thanks for my grandmother’s Christian witness, a sure foundation for my own Christian life.  I give thanks for all the people involved in getting the planned concert organised.  I notice particularly that in the Cathedral’s Daily Prayer Guide, the Girl’s Brigade is specifically mentioned for prayer today.  I give thanks and pray for them.

10.40am:  And still no foot on the floor.  What am I to do, I can’t roam the streets in my dressing gown. I’ll give it ‘till 11am and then start making a few quiet noises, drop a pencil, send the dog upstairs to waken the sleeping master. “Go see Daddy” usually does it.  Meanwhile I do a bit of homework for my course, do a bit of my Lenten reading about Jesus, read Spurgeon.  Oh where is a ‘phone call or a knock on the door when I need one.  I hear the recycling lorry, the dogs barking!  That should do it.  Thankyou doggie.  Success!

10.46am: Phase 1 of the campaign swings into action.

3pm: Mission accomplished.  Well almost. I had a few old addresses, no post boxes, no numbers on doors, country roads that simply seemed to end and roadworks.  I did however knock on one door expecting a member of the cloth, only to be greeted by a work colleague.  Bit taken aback, case of a double life?   No, one of the old addresses I was talking about.  Still I had a nice chat and invited him to the concert.

Hope to see you there too! Lynn”

Dromore Cathedral’s Clayton Memorial Hall was packed with Parishioners and supporters who came along to meet with the Rt Revd Justin Badi Arama, Bishop of Maridi Diocese in Southern Sudan and his wife, Mama Joyce. Bishop Justin was welcomed to Dromore by Canon Cecil Wilson who described him as a “remarkable young man” whose faith sustained him and his people through some very difficult times in his homeland. This is, he explained, a man who put his life on the line for the Gospel he firmly believes in and that the vibrancy of faith in Southern Sudan would put us to shame! Bishop Justin chose a reading from Psalm 8 for his theme – “Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!” David, he said, was a king – he was rich, prosperous and intelligent – there was no one like him. All he had humbled him and he exalted the Lord above all else. Bishop Justin then challenged us all – does our wealth humble us? Will we go to the ends of the earth? He joked that Mama Joyce and himself had come to the ends of the earth in Northern Ireland! He praised those who had reached out to his people and thanked them for all they have done. Particular mention was made of Jane Corbett and James Riddell from Dromore Cathedral who have already visited Maridi – “several people here have reached Maridi, shared in our life and seen how we live. On behalf of the people of Maridi, thank you”.  Bishop Justin concluded by suggesting three ways in which people from Down and Dromore can help his people;

• Prayer
• Donations
• Take up the challenge laid down by Jesus to go to the ends of the earth and travel to Maridi to spend time with them in mission work, or as teachers.

a full report with photographs is available on the Down and Dromore Diocesan website - www.downanddromore.org

We wish each online visitor the blessings of a Christ-filled Christmas in 2007. May you sense the excitement of the season in an atmosphere of expectant hope. God has sent his Son Jesus to be the Saviour of the world. As we remember the events surrounding his birth, may we know his grace and joy every day of the season and have a peaceful and fruitful New Year.

Last week’s news sheet: download here: Sunday News Sheet

The 200Kb current edition of the Newssheet

Click here for the most recent edition of Parish Post december-parish-post.pdf File size approx. 441 KB