There is an old story which my Dad used to tell me about NAAFI meals. Military language warning.
Apparently during war-time the members had been complaining for months that the food tasted crap but the authorities refused to take them seriously. They insisited that the catering staff were the finest trained men in the forces and they could do miracles on a budget. Eventually someone was persuaded to carry out an inspection and a selection of the usual fayre was displayed for tasting.
The officer leaned over and smelled the food. 'Hmm. Smells like shit,' he said.
Then he took a spoon and tasted the food. 'Hmm, tastes like shit,' he said.
Then, after a brief pause he added, 'Beautifully cooked though.'
I have been trying to write a post that summarises the Holy Trinity and Trendlewood Parish Weekend away. There is a slight danger that trying to review a weekend away that has been spiritually challenging for me is like that. The raw ingredients of my life I took along were poor but something great was made with them. If you have been really challenged at a conference or event then the feedback form is like asking a defeated boxer to mark out of ten the quality of the blow that felled him.
So I will tell you what happened. Soon. I've already saved it in draft. But it's not quite right and it needs to be. The talks will be available on the church web site soon.