I managed a wry smile the other day, when one of those surveys was published in a daily newspaper.  It concerned the state of school pupil’s knowledge of literature.  Apparently, children know a lot more about television than books, so much so that this forms the fundamental basis for their archive of memorable quotations.  So, whilst few seemed to know where ‘friends, Romans and countryman’ comes from – (Up Pompeii, I thought, but apparently its Shakespeare) – most pupils can recite the pithy wisdom of David Brent, the eponymous hero of The Office.  One of his quotes is this: ‘just accept that in life, some days you are the statue; on other days, you are the pigeon’.  Wise words, indeed; especially as you prepare for public ministry.  Anyway, at the risk of deploying another cliché, this sermon is a game of two halves.  Here’s the first.

I think there are two types of people in this life.  Those who read labels, instructions and recipes before opening packets, boxes and proceeding to start assembling, cooking or whatever – and those who don’t.  For those in the middle, like me, it is not so much an antipathy for reading these things as it is failing to make any sense of them.  IKEA are the worst.  ‘IKEA’, as you know, is a subtle Swedish mnemonic for ‘invite your neighbour round, who has a toolkit, and who may actually know what they are doing’.  I do not.  The phrase ‘flat-packed for your convenience’ is to me, a cruel taunt.