So here are some reflections from last week.
Early (for me, i.e. 9.30 am) on Sunday we went to St Dingat's Church in Llandovery. Dingat I learn was one of the 36 offspring of Brychan, Irish chieftain and saint, of the sixth century. Well, there were a good deal more than 36 in the congregation. Just as we pulled up outside, a couple of minibuses from, I think, Coleg Elidyr, the local Camphill Residential Special Needs School, were disembarking their passengers. The service wasn't particularly inspiring, the music wasn't especially good, the liturgy was the same as ever, the sermon was comprehensible and straightforward (memorably telling us that academic scepticism about the Trinity was "a load of rubbish"). And yet it was probably the time when I have been most aware of the presence of the Holy Spirit in a church service. I was reflecting on why this should be so, and my conclusion was, "Inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you did it unto me." The welcoming acceptance of those we tend to exclude from polite society was the reason for Jesus' presence.
I recall listening the Dream Center's Youth Pastor speaking at Kingdom Faith in the mid '90s about the vision that led the Barnetts to that remarkable church in downtown Los Angeles. On the website it says, "