And so I find myself back in Havelock North. We shared a wedding with a colleague from work - and a gang of teachers and ex staff from our school, travelling up together in a school bus ominously so labelled. Chaplains get to marry people - that's the term that is used. I prefer saying that I "do" weddings, as I have been happily married for 23 years and would not like the confusion of being married to all these other characters.
The Kiwi wedding, like the funeral (and no they are not related directly) could be conducted by a variety of celebrants. I find the celebrant funeral (the kind that is non- religious and explicitly without God) a very gloomy affair. New age platitudes are cold comfort in my simple view, and I prefer the ordinary Christian notion that there is life beyond the grave.
Weddings however are different. While all the weddings I have "done" (I recall of course people in my parish days asking me if they could get little Johnny "done" which referred to baptism - whereupon I would retort - "how would you like him done? Medium or well?") have been for staff members, they have all been different. People like to write their own vows (none of which includes, I hasten to add- I promise to do the dishes, wash the car and mow the lawn), and have various degrees of God-inclusion. So the poor old Chaplain (me) does get a tad confused. I guess it is the consequence of hundreds of weddings - when I lose my place in the newly written services, I simply default to what I know from memory. It can be interesting. Yesterday's wedding was such an occasion where I left out the bride's written conclusion and did a good Trinitarian blessing. Ah well, that's who I am. A dear lady came to me and asked afterwards - you can't be a celebrant, you must be a priest? Upon enquires to another priest (the father of the bride) I discovered it was the prayers that exposed me.
Kiwiland happily accepts the Maori karakia - the blessings, the traditional prayers - but gets all wobbly with conventional Christian stuff. I suspect there were many prayers during the world cup - and look what happened there!
On another matter altogether, having the reception at a very nice wine estate was a great cause of celebration for the party of educators from my school. The rest is history, and some of that history is captured on my camera. The chaplain is now loaded with interesting information on these dear people. I can only assume they will wake up some time this morning.
A more fascinating encounter was meeting a character from Durban who lived near my aunt and various friends in Henry Road. Curious that you meet people on the other side of the world and are really so connected. We had so many things in common - same High School, many of the same teachers (started there 12 years after me and the teachers, ancient in my time, were still churning it out) and same friends. He proved to be the life and soul of the party. Messed things up totally by moving himself and his very patient wife from his allocated seats at table something-or-other to table 2. The wedding hosts could not cope with this lack of order and strongly encouraged him to return to his allocated position for his meal. He politely declined. The authorities sent an urgent message to the groom, who in turn relayed the message that the kitchen would be confused. He happily solved the problem by collecting everything from their allocated table and bringing it to ours. Once their order was placed, the die was caste and we all survived. For the life of me I can't imagine why it was so complicated, but of course the groom is a maths teacher. Actually it was the waitron person who probably could not fit the extra order on her undersized order pad. These South Africans. Really. Very disruptive.
Havelock North - returning to my original chat - is a small town in the Hawke's Bay, which at this time of the year presents itself with streets lined with the blossoms of fruit trees. The fragrance and colour gently combine and add to the overall warmth of the place which yesterday reached a massive 24 degrees - the highest in the country. This little escape presents to us a welcomed relief from the wild wintry weather of our home town Wellington. real sunshine and warmth are an antidote to the cold desperation of harsh winters that hang around in spring.
I should think that our attempt to make a difference here is a bit like that - a bit of sunshine in a cold dark place. With the excessive drinking of people on these islands one might say a cold dark wet place. The wedding itself was a good reason top celebrate of course. It's all about limits I guess. Of greater concern is the binge drinking of children. They really are children. Not teenagers.
As I write to you various wedding attenders are emerging from their rooms here at the Wine Country Inn. This is wine county. Somehow we need to get people to taste the new wine of God.
From the islands....
Robin
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