Twenty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time

bartholoSUNDAY 21st August – Twenty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time

I was supposed to be sailing today and yesterday. With gales of up to 60mph battering the Isle of Wight it is lucky we did not go out yesterday. The entrance antiphon: turn your ear o Lord and answer me, save the servant who trusts in you, my God. O Lord, I cry to you all the day long.

MONDAY 22nd August – The Queenship of the Blessed Virgin Mary

I go down to Gosport. Have the courage to take the boat out on my own but everything works! Then a night on my own on the boat, cooking at sunset, listening to the sea birds and making myself a little supper of bread, eggs and bacon washed down with a beer and a glass of wine.

TUESDAY 23rd August

I wake up. It is a very low tide, the boat resting on the bottom. I go down gingerly and have difficulty getting back up again!

WEDNESDAY 24th August – St Bartholomew

Another hot day. London is stifling. We drive to Calais through appalling traffic and miss our boat. A good thing because we stay at Hotel des Dunes and I go for a swim and watch the sunset.

THURSDAY 25th August

We drive, though at times the heat is 37 degrees Celsius. We drove to Saint-Florentin on the Canal de Bourgogne.

FRIDAY 26th August

We go for a cycle, the canal on the left, green and barely used, shady with trees and flat. We start at Migennes and after a couple of hours I meet Mary at Saint-Florentin. I swim in the stream. I go to the Abbaye de Pontigny and find out after mass that St Edmund of Canterbury is buried there. A priest guided us around but I leave the others free to walk on and I pray before the tomb of Edmund, also exiled after having fallen out with the King. Perhaps he would be a good guardian angel, I can’t believe many pray to him each day. I drive through Chablis. Mary arrives exhausted and I cycle on. We drive to Buffon on the canal and stay the night there.

SATURDAY 27th August

I start cycling at Buffon. Little shade and very hot. Through Montbard past the Abbaye de Fontenay. One dead abbey a week is enough for me. The Abbaye de Flavigny is close and very much alive but nothing will be happening early afternoon. I find a cold shower but Mary carried on and I pick her up at Saint Thibault. Then I do the last bit to Pouilly-en-Auxois. We stay in an incredibly quiet little town. These Burgundy towns look absolutely dead in the heat but by chance we find a lovely mass, arriving just after the sermon. The priest is young; the ancient church full.

Psalm 118
“This is the stone which was rejected by you builders, but which has become the cornerstone”.

The Assumption & Twentieth Week in Ordinary Time

virginSUNDAY 14th August – Twentieth Week in Ordinary Time

After mass I go to Benediction at 5pm and stay for two hours. Father Robert is doing an exposition of the Blessed Sacrament all night.

I am strangely happy during the meditation. Mindfulness is fine as it goes. The breathing and concentrating on it focuses the mind on the present, but if the Rosary is added to it, it is much more powerful.

MONDAY 15th August – The Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary

I wake at 4am, get up and drive to church. There is a slim sliver of light to east at the top of the Wolds over to the North Sea. Mass is at 5.30am. Contemplation then back to bed. I read the Dalai Lama and try to counter any anger and hatred with compassion and patience.

Sometimes I climb the hill behind our cottage and watch the ships making their gentle and steady way up the Humber 15 miles away. What a soothing sight to bring this slow progress into focus.

TUESDAY 16th August – St Stephen

A day in Lincolnshire reading, writing and walking.

WEDNESDAY 17th August

Another quiet day.

THURSDAY 18th August

Events and worries crowd in. I am reading the mindfulness book: one must not worry about the past, it is done, or fear for the future; all that is real is here and now. I go to mass. There was no point in moping in the garden so I went for a swim in Otby Lake which is always delightful and calming.

Then with the energy left I drove to Mablethorpe Sands to watch the sunset. For once there the sea was rough, I could barely stand. I love this vast beach, it is so empty. Driving back I stop on our lane in the Beech woods and listen to the Proms. Wagner. A peaceful scene of a rustling stream in the twilight. All events, problems, are put unto the perspective of the moment.

Psalm 51
“A pure heart create for me, O God, put a steadfast spirit within me.”

FRIDAY 19th August

Another glorious day of sunshine. I go back to Otby Lake. Here at the end of the reservoir one can see looking west the vast plain of North Lincolnshire. There is a little twinkling stream. It is enough to sit here after a swim for a whole hour and forget troubles.

SATURDAY 20th August

We drive back to London after going to a summer barbecue. There are huge storms in the south.

Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

06_transSUNDAY 31st July – Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

I walk alone along the coast to an utterly deserted sandy beach with view of Eigg and Rum in all their splendour, the sky a Mediterranean blue. I try and paddle round but walk back happily. By the evening the whole family is here. I swim and paint, for the first time in months, and we walk.

We walk to the village and then up forest paths and take the road back for a late lunch. I would go to church but don’t have the energy to go to Mallaig, although the first time I came to these islands fifty years ago was to assist a priest in saying Mass on the Isle of Eigg. In the evening I cook spaghetti Bolognese.

TUESDAY 2nd August

A long walk to Inverguseran through a vast empty sun spread glen. I am grateful for a picnic there and a land rover ride back. I am reading D. K. Broster’s The Flight of the Heron and A History of Knoydart to get me in the mood.

WEDNESDAY 3rd August

I swim in the Loch – cold – and go for a canoe trip. There is a white Madonna at the entrance to Loch Nevis. We drive to the cemetery to look at Donald Craigmyle’s grave with its inscription – not a bad one to put on one’s gravestone: Like the deer that yearns for the running stream, so my soul yearns for you my God. Then we walk back past a former Church of Scotland now sadly a private house, although a very nice one. In the evening we drive for fish and chips.

THURSDAY 4th August

I walk alone up the path to Inverguseran then turn right, walking through great woods and an empty valley – a scene from the long trek in The Lord of the Rings – then along the side of a stream to a waterfall. I clamber down, take of my clothes and rest next to this waterfall – a scene out of some primordial paradise. The whole journey, stopping and starting, takes over five hours. Mary comes to find me in the Land Rover. Only one group of people met in that entire time. Come back wondrously tired.

FRIDAY 5th August

Sadly it is time to leave. I sit in the drawing room reading D. K. Broster on the ’45 rebellion and look through the Georgian sash windows across the sea loch to the utterly hills, stretching away into a far unseeable distance. They have an old gramophone and I put on Bach. These old gramophones are so nice and peaceful. One looks at a pretty sleeve, takes out the record and plays it and it’s not too long.

We take the ferry back to Mallaig and end up in a hotel right in the middle of Glasgow opposite the Mackintosh School of Art.

SATURDAY 6th August – Transfiguration of the Lord

I find the Jesuit church and go to mass, then sit there for another half an hour – it is a lovely baroque place. I have always found this feast day difficult but the priest describes it well. We are catching a glimpse of what we might be like after death. What Christ might really look like in all his glory.

Two people recognise me in the city. Strange, no one does in London.

We drive peacefully up to Aberfoyle and go for a walk around Loch Ard. The house is on a bank looking directly up the Loch.

Sixteenth Week in Ordinary Time & Mary Magdalene

SUNDAY 17th July – Sixteenth Week in Ordinary Time

I go to the 150th Anniversary Mass of the Catholic Church in Gainsborough. A lovely occasion. They have done a history of the parish. Such quiet dedication over so many years: often with a very small parish.

Ps 15
“The just will live in the presence of the Lord”.

MONDAY 18th July

We go to a magnificent funeral Mass for Anthea Craigmyle.

Later I have a DCLG question in the House. I manage to get opposition to the Mayor of Lincolnshire into it and I speak French in the Chamber following Nice: “Nous sommes avec vous maintenant et pour toujours”. The new Home Secretary does not reply in kind.

Show favour O Lord to your servants and increase the gifts of your grace.

TUESDAY 19th July

It is the hottest day of the year. A broiling 30’C. I cool off in the lido and at the Chelsea Physic Garden.
The Cathedral in the evening is a tiny bit cooler. The difficult Gospel from Matthew 12:46
“Jesus replied: who is my Mother, who are my brothers?”

I am left alone in the Downing Street garden with Theresa May as everyone else goes off to vote on the Higher Education Bill. She likes serious discussion and is not really interested in pleasantries. I like her.


My birthday. By chance I have a PMQ for the first time in years. I start by saying I agree with the PM and everyone laughs. She congratulates me on my birthday. A good day with all the family on the terrace for supper. Our last Mass in the crypt before Recess. From Jeremiah:
“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you”.

THURSDAY 21st July

A quiet day. Our last day of the Commons before the Summer Recess. Momentous times. Great Britain leaving the EU after 43 years.

A little adjournment debate on the through train to Market Rasen.

Another difficult reading from Matthew 25:29
“Anyone who has will be given more. He will have more than enough”.
So we have to keep trying harder.

I read Cranmer’s life in the library and joke to John McDonnell that I am trying to keep up with modern politics by reading the life of Cranmer.

FRIDAY 22nd July – St Mary Magdalene

I take the train to Lincolnshire – much delayed and walk home over the Wolds.

“The Lord said to Mary Magdalene: go to my brothers and tell them: I am going to my Father and to your Father, to my God and your God.”

Theodore is put safely on the bus to his first OMV pilgrimage to Lourdes.

SATURDAY 23rd July – St Bridget of Sweden

I do a surgery and walk to Kirmond le Mire with Monty.

I read a psalm in our church: Psalm 89 King James Version
“I will sing of the mercies of the Lord for ever: with my mouth will I make known thy faithfulness to all generations”.

I am reading but by bit and slowly; the Art of Happiness by the Dalai Lama. It seems that we ought to try to be happy; to be content with one’s lot.

Fifteenth Week in Ordinary Time & St Benedict’s day

SUNDAY 10th July – Fifteenth Week in Ordinary Time

We go to Mass in Market Rasen.

We hear the passage from Luke 10:25-37 on the Good Samaritan. A new insight, the priest that passed by on the other side may have been banned by his priestly profession from handling blood. Just goes to show how fatuous rules are.

MONDAY 11th July – St Benedict

It is set to be a quiet day.

I speak to Our Lady of Victories’ school in Committee Room 10 but as I go to the tearoom I am told Andrea Leadsom is standing down. I walk over to her HQ to try and stop her but it is too late. There are masses of press and TV outside the house. It is all shades of previous leadership campaigners: IDS, John Redwood etc. Sad that the members are to be given no choice.
Earlier at Mass I am pleased to see it is St Benedict’s feast day. It gives me new inspiration for my book.

It is strange to hear a potted revision of his life at Mass when you already know so much about it. At a difficult time in politics it has been a help picking up an excellent guide to the Rule, simply and well explained.

TUESDAY 12th July

We go to the Russian Embassy for lunch. This is a quieter occasion than last time. They seem perplexed by the Brexit vote and without a clear line on where to take it from here.

Ps 119
“Train me Lord to observe your law”

WEDNESDAY 13th July – St Henry

It is David Cameron’s last PMQs. I have a Welsh question which is not reached. Later I speak in the Iraq debate. I can think of nothing better to do than repeat my speech of 2002 and its warnings even down to possible rifts between Sunni and Shia.

Today’s reading from Isiah:
“The Lord of Hosts says this:
Woe to Assyria, the rod of my anger, the club brandished by me in my fury! I sent him against a godless nation; I gave him commission against a people that provokes me”.

In the evening Theresa May starts to appoint her Government. Some immediate good choices: Liam Fox, David Davis and Boris Johnson.

THURSDAY 14th July

We were supposed to have a summer lunch with Chancellor George Osborne. Now it is ex-Chancellor George Osborne. I don’t wait for ministerial appointment. I take the train to Lincolnshire and walk over the Wolds home via the Ramblers Church.

In the evening I go to a lovely service of induction for the new Vicar of Middle Rasen. I had not realised the Church of England service was so formal.

Isiah 26:7-9
“The path of the upright man is straight
You smooth the way of the upright
Following the path of your judgements”.

FRIDAY 15th July – St Bonaventure

A surgery in Market Rasen.

The Psalm for today, The Canticle of Hezekiah:
“You have held back my life O Lord, from the pit of doom”.

I am reading the Dalai Lama on the ‘Art of Happiness’.

Happiness does not come from wanting more or from position. It comes from the state of one’s own mind, and being content with what we have: in deliberately schooling oneself to be happy with things as they are.

SATURDAY 16th July – Our Lady of Mount Carmel

We have an afternoon event at Stainton on Stow. Ben is here at the cottage and we start to clear out one tiny little outhouse crammed with cottage junk that we don’t need. Our main problem is an excess of junk: old clothes, books, pieces of correspondence from 40 years ago and an inability to throw things away. Really one should keep nothing but it is a link with the past, an affirmation that one’s life has not been wasted.

“On that day they will make a satire of you, sing a dirge and say ‘we are stripped of everything’”.
Micah 2:1-5

Fourteenth Week in Ordinary Time


SUNDAY 3rd July – Fourteenth Week in Ordinary Time

We go to the 5.30 Mass in the Catholic chapel at Osgodby. How beautiful in this one of the first Catholic chapels in the country, began in 1793, to hear Father Robert sing the Angus Dei and Sanctus in Latin – a link with the Faith of our Fathers entrance antiphon.

Your merciful love, O God, we have received in the midst of your temple.

MONDAY 4th July – St Elizabeth of Portugal

“When Jesus reached the official’s house and saw the flute players, with the crowd making a commotion, he said ‘get out of here; the little is not dead, she is asleep’, and they laughed at him”

Matthew 9:18-26

At the hustings I ask Theresa May if she will pledge to leave the EU and reinstate border controls. A firm pledge on the first, slightly equivocal on the second.

TUESDAY 5th July

I ask a question about John Coupland hospital in Gainsborough and the first round of voting happens in the Tory leadership. My candidate Liam Fox is eliminated.

Meanwhile, every day I peddle off to the 10.30 Latin Mass in the Cathedral

Hosea 8:4-7

“Thus says the Lord: they have set up Kings, but not with my consent, and appointed Princes but without my knowledge …”
Nothing changes.

WEDNESDAY 6th July – St Maria Goretti (1890-1902)

As we are reminded at Mass Maria Goretti is the patron saint of victims of child abuse. She forgave her abuser who in repentant old age attended her canonisation.

Ps 104

“Constantly seek the Face of the Lord”

In the evening we have our summer party for colleagues. The weather is good, the house and carpet cleaned, all the junk moved into Theo’s room. About 40 colleagues turn up, including two leadership challengers Andrea Leadsom and Michael Gove, in his white tie fresh from the Mansion House Banquet, sitting musing in our little yard with candles burning on his likely fate next day.


Steve Baker asks me to give permission for our home to be used as Andrea HQ. I give it but luckily they receive a better offer. A relief. The last ballot takes place and May and Leadsom are through.

A great relief that the party is over – a day spent cleaning up. Whatever happens I tell myself I must not forget to vote

Ps 80

“O Shepherd of Israel, hear us, shine forth from your Cherubim throne”

FRIDAY 8th July

Ps 50

“My mouth shall declare your praise. Have mercy on me God in your kindness.
In your compassion blot out my offence”

We travel to Lincolnshire.

SATURDAY 9th July – St Augustine Zhao

A quiet day of surgeries in Lincolnshire.

I let Monty off the lead in the fields behind our cottage and he vanishes for 7 hours. Finally we hear a plaintive bark at about 10pm in the dark from beyond the hedge. As usual I read a psalm in our village church

Ps 93

“The Lord is King with majesty enrobed, the Lord has robed himself with might, He has girded himself with power”.

St Oliver Plunkett


I decided to write something down as a checklist for the new PM. No doubt anyone reading it would feel it a bit radical.

The second reading is taken from Galatians 5:

“When Christ freed us, he meant us to remain free. Stand firm therefore and do not submit to the yoke of slaveyr.”

At the moment I am reading the Dalai Lama on the art of happiness. Of course for him happiness doesn’t come from having and wanting more and more money, position, power but from one’s own state of mind, a contentment with one’s lot. That is what frees one from the yoke of slavery to unhappiness. If you do not rely on your own state of mind you will never be happy.

MONDAY – St Cyril of Alexandria

Everyone is I presume rushing around seeing who can be nominated by whom, no doubt calculating how to get early onto the winning bandwagon. I concentrate on writing my policy piece which I have to self-publish anyway; no doubt a mistake.

“Foxes have holes and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.” (Matthew 8:18)

TUESDAY – St Irenaeus

I chair Westminster Hall – a pleasant side water. During these sort of days no one is very interested in the chamber or in issues.

I too can’t sleep, wondering what will be the outcome of all this. We all feel somewhere that we would like to have a go but we know, or most of us are sensible enough to know, that we do not have the support.

“Why are you so frightened, you men of little faith.” (Matthew 8:23)

WEDNESDAY – Sts Peter & Paul

The day before close of nominations for the leadership. One friend kindly says he will nominate me but one is not enough. I ring Liam Fox with whom I agree with on everything and will support him. He ends up the following Tuesday with just sixteen votes.

We pay our last visit to St Olave’s School for their Leavers’ Eucharist. Although there are no leavers, it is Theodore’s last exam, last day at school, and last day of any of our six children at school – a thirty-year stretch.

“On the night before Herod was to try him, Peter was sleeping between two soldiers, fastened with double chains.” (Acts 12:1-11)


I sit glued to the television as nominations close and with three minutes to spare Boris withdraws.

Today’s reading from Amos 7:10-17:

“Amos is plotting against you in the heart of the house of Israel.”

FRIDAY – St Oliver Plunkett

I am up at 5:00 to get the special train to Thiepval for the memorial service for the Somme battle, one hundred years ago. A truly moving and memorable experience. Lord Guthrie is clutching his field marshal’s baton, standing next to Cardinal Murphy O’Connor.

50,000 dead and wounded in one day.

Psalm 118: “Man does not live by bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.”


I dipped into a life of Cranmer in the library, awaiting a delayed vote. His last hours and his courage in the end were truly extraordinary.

“That day I will re-erect the tottering hut of David, make good the gaps in it, restore its ruins, and rebuilt it as it was in the days of old.” (Amos 9:11)

The reading comes from today’s Mass. What does it matter when one reads Amos. Cranmer would not have agreed. An heroic age.

In the evening we have the village hog roast. At the end we all help clear up. I get more satisfaction working together with the other villagers than from weeks at Westminster.

The Referendum


We drive down to Purley for Charlotte’s First Communion. It was an ordinary 12 noon Mass and the large church is packed.

Galatians 5: “You are all of you sons of God through faith in Jesus Christ.”

MONDAY – St Alban

Our first British martyr and we know nothing about him. He could have lived and died anytime between 209 and 314. All we know is that he sheltered a Christian. He didn’t have to, but he did. He took that decision.

“Do not judge and you will not be judged.” (Matthew 7:15)

I watch the Euro football outside on a big screen. A good atmosphere. Everyone calm. England is through.

TUESDAY – St Aloysius Gonzaga and St John Rigby

St John Rigby, twice given a chance to recant, twice refused. What extraordinary faith.

“The clean of hands and pure of heart shall climb the mountain of the Lord and stand in His holy place.”

WEDNESDAY – Ss John Fish and Thomas More

I go to the Lincolnshire Show for a Vote Leave photograph. I do my usual tour of the stands.

St John Fisher’s last words: “I condemn no other man’s conscience. Their conscience may save them, and mine must save me.”

THURSDAY – St Ethelreda, St Thomas Garnet

We go to the second day of the Lincolnshire Show. It is referendum day and after voting – it’s a high turnout – we drive back to London, arriving just in time to see all the commentators predicting a Remain win.

The entrance antiphon: “The Lord is the strength of his people, a saving refuge for the one he has appointed. Save your people, Lord, and bless your heritage and govern them for ever.”

FRIDAY – Nativity of John the Baptist

We are up all night. I occasionally try to sleep but it is too exciting, although I miss the moment when Brexit wins.

At 8:30 astonishingly the Prime Minister resigns. I spend the rest of the day in a different world, at the Order of Malta’s St John’s Day Mass, all togged up in our robes, and going to Madeleine Gamble’s 100th birthday tea at the French Residence. The Ambassador pops in for a minute, looking harassed, saying only just she has not slept.

The Collect: “O God, who roused up Saint John the Baptist to make ready a nation fit for Christ the Lord, give your people, we pray, the grace of spiritual joys.”


I go to the Summer Gathering of the Catholic Union at St Mary’s University Twickenham. Afterwards we are shown around Horace Walpole’s Strawberry Hill. A strange day, the morning after the night before. Momentous changes have taken place. Already people are positioning themselves although no one me and I ring no one.

Even the Mass is quiet. I can barely hear the priest.

Gospel Acclamation: “Alleluia, alleluia. He took our sickness away…”

St Anthony of Padua


I go to Mass in Westminster Cathedral. The Cardinal is there.

The second reading is from Galatians is not easy.

“We acknowledge that what makes a man righteous is not obedience to the law but faith in Jesus Christ.”

Is faith everything? The homily is on the theme of the Gospel: “They were unable to pay so he pardoned them both. Which of them will love him more?” (Luke 7)

MONDAY – St Anthony of Padua

Children from the French lycée come to the House of Commons with parents and teachers. There are sixty people in the room. When I ask them how they would vote in the referendum, nine out of ten are in favour of remain. In the afternoon I chared delegated legislation.

St Anthony is the patron saint of the lost and found… where we would all like to be in politics. Perhaps the story of Jezebel in today’s Gospel is followed by all too many – not to the murderous extent but the use of others.

“In the letters she wrote Proclaim a fast and put Naboth in the forefront of his people. Confront him with a couple of scoundrels who will accuse him.” (1 Kings 21)

In the afternoon I again ask the Home Secretary if cars will be searched at Calais. Again I get a far from full answer.


I go to the National Prayer Breakfast in Westminster Hall. A bit evangelical for me and six of us have to feed ourselves up in the tea room after the scanty offerings. I am happier with going to my daily mass.

“Elijah answered, I have found you out. For your double dealing and since you have done what is displeasing to the Lord, I will now bring disaster on you.” (1 Kings)

Sadly we no longer have Elijahs to deal with double dealers.


There is a fuss about Osborne’s threatened emergency budget which will never happen of course. I intervene on John McDonnell and say many of us feel the real threat to the economy is not vote leave or remain but the tax and spend policies he has spent his whole life advocating.

Today in Matthew 6:1-6 Jesus gives advice that politicians including myself need:

“Be careful not to parade your good deeds before men to attract their notice. By doing so, you will lose all reward from your Father in Heaven.”

Stonyhurst College make their annual visit to the House of Commons. They give Bill Cash the nameplate from his desk from 1955.


I am worried about whether we will fill the hall for our Vote Leave rally the next day so I get 1,500 leaflets printed and we have a nice time distributing them in Gainsborough. Everyone I meet is voting out. I don’t know but at the same time a Labour MP is shot and killed.

The entrance antiphon today: “O Lord, hear my voice, for I have called to you to be my help. Do not abandon or forsake me, O God my saviour.”


Our event is cancelled as are all others today. I visit Ferndene Care Home in Gainsborough. A delight to meet old people who remember me from years back, including bringing baby Tamara to the count – in a cardboard box as we could find nothing else at the time. And a lady of 104 who is bright as a button.

The Collect: “O God, strength of those who hope in You…”


We try to re-arrange the rally but it is cancelled again, this time by the church. I have done my best.

Psalm 88: “I will keep my love for him always, with my chosen one I have made a covenant.”

St Norbert


I left Downside early after Lauds and drove to Gosport for a day’s sail. Unfortunately the engine broke down three times – once while we drifted in front of a Britanny ferry. Otherwise glorious weather.

Today’s reading from Luke:

“When the Lord saw her, he felt sorry for her. Do not cry, he said. Then he went up and put his hand on the bier and the bearers stood still and he said, ‘Young man, I tell you to get up!’ And the dead man sat up and began to talk.

MONDAY – St Norbert

I ask the Home Secretary again whether peoples cars are searched at Calais and whether they are checked for criminal records. I get no answer.

The readings of the Mass are the Beatitudes. If only we attempted to live them.

“How happy are the poor in spirit: theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven. Happy the gentle, they shall have the earth for their heritage. Happy those who mourn, they shall be comforted. Happy those who hunger and thirst for what is right, they shall be satisfied.” (Matthew 5:1-12)


A five-hour meeting in the morning.

Psalm 4 is always reassuring: “When I call, answer me, O God of Justice; from anguish you have released me, have mercy and hear me.”


We have a House of Commons sailing match in the Thames on a windless day. We just drift with the tide. Maybe politics is like that for much of the time.

A strange reading from 1 Kings 18:

“How long, said Elijah, do you mean to hobble first on one leg then on the other?”

This is in the context of the worship of the Lord of Baal, but how often do we hobble on one leg then the other?

THURSDAY – St Columba

We drive up to Lincolnshire.

“So then if you are bringing your offering to the altar and then remember that your brother has something against you, leave your offering there before the altar, go and be reconciled with your brother first, and then come back and present your offering.” (Matthew 5:20-26)

I sometimes think of this passage as I go up to take communion. Difficult to manage.


We are quietly in Lincolnshire. I read a psalm in our village church.

“It is your face, O Lord, that I seek. O Lord, hear my voice when I call, have mercy and answer me.”

SATURDAY – St Barnabas

We drive down to London for a do for an African charity and hear moving stories of their work.

How little we now know of St Barnabas except that he was an early convert in Jerusalem and accompanied Paul on his first missionary journey. But he lives on in some kind of residual memory. When he was martyred, perhaps at Salamis, no one much would have cared, a small time religious zealot done to death in a small town. Little interest, end of story.

I do a debate with Adam Duguid on leave or remain in Market Rasen Methodist Church Hall. At the beginning of the debate we have 6 for Remain, 36 for Leave, and 6 undecided. At the end of the debate the result is exactly the same. But a pleasant debate – everyone good-humoured as always in Lincolnshire.

The Ascension of the Lord


The weather is at last warm. A good day for the Ascension. It is interesting that according to the Acts of the Apostles the very last question they ask Him is “Lord, has the time come? Are you going to restore the Kingdom of Israel?” He gives no answer but: “While they looked on a cloud took him from their sight.” (Acts 1:1-11)

It is all mysterious. He does not rise like a rocket into Heaven. He quietly fades away behind a cloud. Thus His presence and departure and future return is enigmatic to us.


There was a debate on the Government’s leaflet proclaiming the value of Europe – it cost nine million pounds. I ask for a sense of fairness to both sides.

“His disciples said to Jesus: Now you are speaking plainly and not using metaphors! Now we see that you know everything, and do not have to wait for questions to be put into words.” (John 16)

As sometimes happens when listening to John in these passages at Mass, I get a sudden but passing insight of belief as happens this morning.


Today we have the lovely passage from Paul:

“And now you see me a prisoner already in spirit; I am on my way to Jerusalem but have no idea what will happen to me there.” (Act 20:17-27)

We have a nice family supper at home – all too rare now – with three of our children there.


I visit the Cedars Catholic school in Croydon. An inspiring start up venture already with over ninety kids and over 140 next year. And apparently they come voluntarily to the twice-weekly Masses.

In the evening we do something different. We go to ‘Brexit: The Movie’. Nice to be see so many young there and such a clear, simple, and positive message. On the train coming back from the school I ask Peter if he is absolutely convinced that when we die in twenty years time or less, he will wake up in Heaven. He is convinced by John 13. To paraphrase: God so loved the world that he gave his only son so that those who believe in him may have eternal life.


At the 8:00 am Mass today I do believe for an instant as John is read out.

“Jesus raised his eyes to Heaven and said ‘Holy Father, I pray not only for these, but for those also who through their words will believe in me. May they all be one. Father, may they be one in us, as you are one in me, and I am in you, so that the world may believe it was you who sent me.’” (John 17:20-26)


I speak in the evening to Lincoln Conservatives. An enjoyable, simple occasion in a pizza restaurant. I speak on the theme of Brexit: The Movie.

In the Acts of the Apostles today, Paul is sent for trial to the Emperor. I like the matter of fact way the incident is described:

“…but they had some argument or other with him about their own religion and about a dead man called Jesus whom Paul alleged to be alive.”

A dead man called Jesus. Well – he certainly has had some impact.

SATURDAY – St Matthias

We travel down to Surrey for a party in my sister’s garden. The sun setting is a glorious glow of orange and I walk through the woods with Monty to my mother’s grave. Her tree is still spindly, some of the others planted only shortly before are already large. She died just over eleven years ago. I still miss her.

In the Acts 1:15-27, 20-26, Matthias is selected by lot to be an apostle following the treachery of Judas. A poor chap called Joseph known as Barabbas is rejected and is forgotten by history. Such is fate.

Saint Mark

SUNDAY 24 APRIL 2016 – Tenth Sunday of the Year

Mass at Market Rasen. I make my plea for some Latin and feel better for it.

“Paul and Barnabas went back through Lystria and Iconium to Antioch. They put fresh heart into the disciples, encouraging them to persevere in the faith.” (Acts 14:21-27)

That’s what we all need.

MONDAY – St Mark

The long drive back to London, then I intervene in the immigration debate. Is it really humanitarian to take children from Europe? Surely take them from Syria – an unsafe country. That is the true Kindertransport.

“All wrap yourselves in humility to be servants of each other, because God refuses the proud.” (1 Peter 15:5-14)

THURSDAY – Russian Maundy Thursday

There is a row about whether the Government made concessions on its immigration bill just to get trade union support for the Remain campaign. I make a Commons point that concessions should only relate to the Bill. In the evening we go to the Russian church for the service of twelve gospels. This time I do a search on my iPhone and follow them. Unlike our passion reading there are many repetitions as the four gospels repeat incidents so the message is driven home.

All this over two hours whilst standing. I take refuge in the small bench at the back reserved for old ladies and maybe gentlemen.

FRIDAY – Russian Good Friday

I go to the evening service, this in addition to Mass in the morning, so I feel I have done my bit. In the evening service, the shroud has been taken down from the cross and we all walk forward to kiss it.


We go late to Russian midnight service. Huge crowds outside the church. I am sure we will never get in as we process three times around it, but we do. Inside for an hour between midnight and 1:00 am, singing in Russian “Christ is Risen”. I have no idea how to spell it, I have just been listening to it for thirty years of married life. Then we drop into the Russian church in Ennismore Gardens, huge and also packed, with a superb choir. One is overcome with incense, scent, and sound.

Fourth Sunday of Easter

SUNDAY – Fourth Sunday of Easter

It is a shame we have no sung Latin in our Market Rasen masses. It is so easy, so beautiful to sing the Agnus Dei and Sanctus if nothing else. But why not the Kyrie, Credo, and Pater Noster as well?

Today’s Psalm:

“We are his people, the sheep of his flock.”


I asked the Defence Secretary if NATO, not the EU, was the real guarantor of peace in the last seventy years.

“I feel into a trance as I was praying and had a vision of something like a sheet being let down from Heaven.” (Acts 11:1-18)

How valuable are dreams? Into what depths they take us, but so often depressing. Why?


I ask the Foreign Secretary about his praise of the new Libyan “Government of National Accord”. I reminded him that their rule only extends to one naval base.

I love this passage from the Acts of the Apostles:

“It was at Antioch that the disciples were first called Christians.” (Acts 1:19-26)

Something new and big is happening.

I reminded the Chancellor that he is ill-placed to forecast the result of Brexit as he can’t get his own borrowing figures right for the following year.


We have a debate on genocide after a debate at the Italian Embassy on Brexit. I call on the government to recognise facts, stop sheltering behind the courts, and declare ISIS as a genocidal organisation against Christians, Shia, and Yazidis.

“The word of God continued to spread and to gain followers.” (Acts 12:29)

In my speech I end by quoting the Prophet Nahum whose grave I have visited:

“The gates of your land are wide open to your foes.”


The Entrance Antiphon today: “O God, when you went forth before your people, marching with them and living among them, the earth trembled, heavens poured down rain, alleluia.”


The Entrance Antiphon: “You have redeemed us Lord, by your blood, from every tribe and tongue and people and victor, and have made us into a kingdom, priests for our God. Alleluia.”

SATURDAY – St George

We have the House of Commons sailing match on a cold day. Fun I suppose, certainly a challenge to steer the mermaid around the course with freezing water pouring over you.

Psalm 97: “All the ends of the earth have seen the salvation of our God.”

Third Sunday of Easter

SUNDAY – Third Sunday of Easter

We go to Mass in Market Rasen. The strange book of the Apocalypse. Is it mad raving or the word of God?

“In my vision, I John heard the sound of an immense number of angels, gathered round the throne and the animals and the elders, there were ten thousand times ten thousand of them.”

Yes, it’s that: a vision.

MONDAY – St Stanislaus

I ask a direct question of the Home Secretary. Are we searching all lorries at Calais? I receive obfuscation.

While we are away the papers are full of the Panama Papers scandal. I support the PM. “Shocking” that a British Prime Minister gives up his shareholdings before he becomes PM and pays his tax in full. We have a statement on the pro-EU leaflets. I am relaxed: most of them will end up straight away in the bin,

“The members of the Sanhedrin all looked intently at Stephen, and his face appeared to them like the face of an angel.” (Acts 6:8-15)


I ask about the steel industry and whether we could put tariffs on Chinese steel more easily if we were outside the EU.

The Acts continues with Stephen’s brave taunt to his persecutors.

“You stubborn people. You are always resisting the Holy Spirit, just as your ancestors used to do. Can you name a single prophets your ancestors never persecuted?” (Acts 7:51-8:1)


I ask the Education Secretary whether her forced academisation will not force small rural schools out of business.

“Saul then worked for the total destruction of the Church.” (Acts 8:1-8)

Strange how people change.


The Collect of the Day: “Almighty ever-living God, let us feel your compassion more readily, during these days when by your gift we have known it more fully.”


“Worthy is the Lamb who was slain, to receive power and divinity, and wisdom and strength and honour.” (Rev 5:12)


The Acts continues. Peter is more and more confident.

“Then he turned to the dead woman and said, ‘Tabitha, stand up.’ She opened her eyes, looked at Peter, and sat up.” (Acts 9:31-42)



We don’t get to Mass because we start the day with a long walk in the Shenandoah Mountains. Huge views from the top to east and west. It all takes so long that there is no time to visit the Manassas battlefields on the way back.


We go in a long line for entry into Congress. About 200 of us sit in a cinema and watch a patriotic film about American history and the Constitution. All the places are packed with Americans who actually care about their country. We have nothing like it in Britain. Then we taxi to Georgetown and walk back via the oldest and only pre-revolutionary house in DC.


We spend the entire day in the superb National Gallery. Not very full, every room beautifully laid out and a free audio guide. So many amazing Italian paintings.

Wonderful gathering of the fishes with a reading from the Gospel that sets it alive, and a beautiful Virgin and Child.


We walk from the Phillips collection near Dupont Circle up Massachusetts Avenue past the British Residence to the Anglican cathedral. An extraordinary concoction. Fourteenth-century gothic, vast, all built over the last 100 years or so, with amazing embellishments such as a pulpit carved with stones from Canterbury Cathedral.


I go to the Catholic Basilica, all gilt and marble, not a patch on the restrained grandeur of the Anglican cathedral. But no doubt it comes alive at great services. Afterwards a crowded visit to the Air and Space Museum and a final patriotic visit to the National Archives before we fly out.

FRIDAY – St Jean Baptiste de la Salle

Tired out we drive up to Lincolnshire in the evening.

The Acts continue this heroic journey.

“In reply Peter and the apostles said obedience to God comes before obedience to men.” (Acts 5:27)


A surgery and a quiet day walking and reading.

In the Acts today the Pharisee Gamaliel seems to have the right idea. Let fate take its course.

“If this enterprise, this movement of theirs is of human origin, it will break up of its own accord. But if it does in fact come from God, you will not only be unable to destroy them, but you might find yourself fighting against God.”

Easter Week in America


All too soon our retreat is over. We are driving back to London. I have always struggled with a man Jesus walking Palestine who is God who created the billions of stars. But Marina put it well in the car: He is the vessel of God. The sun is shining as I walk to lauds and we sing “Jesus Christ is Risen Today”.


Always a delight to come back to the Cathedral after Easter and see it in bloom. I wait expectantly for this week’s Gospel readings.

“Filled with awe and great joy the women came away from the tomb and ran to tell the disciples.” (Matthew 28)


The story continues:

“Mary stayed outside near the tomb weeping. She stooped to look inside, and saw two angels sitting in white where the body of Jesus had been.” (John 20:11-18)


And the most eagerly awaited of all this week’s readings:

“Two of the disciples of Jesus were on their way to a village called Emmaus, seven miles from Jerusalem.” (Luke 24:13-35)

I love the way our eyes are opened at the breaking of bread.

We fly out today to see our daughter in Washington and arrive exhausted on Tuesday morning.


The good part of going to America is that you wake up early. Natalia, Nicky, and I walk around the Adams Morgan district, delightful because it is the only part of Washington that has every type in it. We walk to the Lincoln Memorial and round the tidal basin to the Jefferson Memorial – the blossoms still just in bloom, blowing away and a long line for the American history museum. The Americans are so patriotic compared to us.


We drive out to Mount Vernon overlooking the Potomac to see Washington’s house and tomb. Washington’s family insisted he be buried here rather than in the Capitol. Indeed why shouldn’t a Virginian stay in Virginia?

Seventeen years just as a country gentleman, and then the sudden call to service. Just imagine how different the world’s history would have been if Washington had accepted the offer of some of his officers to become king. For all its policy faults I follow Churchill in his love of the good-naturedness of the Great Republic.

We drive on through Virginia to Monticello, Jefferson’s house. I am struck by how small it seems. There all the work appears to be done underground by slaves. How could the author of the Declaration of Independence believe in slavery? But he is a great man and it is a charming place. I love the multisided bookrest on his desk so he can reed 3 or 4 books at once.


We stay in a kind of pop-up wooden house on a vineyard then drive to Charlottesville for a walk around Jefferson’s creation, the University of Virginia.

Holy Week


Amid all the pomp and great music of Palm Sunday in the Cathedral with the Cardinal one phrase stands forth and lodges in my mind. It seems to sum up my doubts and hopes.

“Joseph… came from Arimathea and he lived in the hope of seeing the Kingdom of God.” (Luke)


I ask the Prime Minister about his position on Turkey’s accession to the European Union. He is in favour. Do we want 79 million Turks having the right to come live here?

This week we continue with the readings from Isaiah 42:

“He does not break the crushed reed, nor quench the wavering flame.”


Chairing Westminster Hall I join the tributes to those slain at Brussels that morning. We still do not have the courage to name and shame radical Islam which is not just a tiny criminal gang. There are hundreds of thousands who feed on violent excerpts from the Koran. Muslims in the West must be convinced to integrate and accept.

Isaiah 48:

“Islands, listen to me, pay attention, distant peoples. The Lord called me before I was before I was born. From my mother’s womb he pronounced my name. He made my mouth a sharp sound. And hid me in the shadow of his hand. He made me into a sharpened arrow, and concealed me in his quiver.”

Even writing this poetry is soothing and a relief from the violence of the world.


I ask the Home Secretary if she will search all cars and lorries coming across the Channel – “our bulwark” – and check all passports against intelligence sources. She brushes me aside saying I have “misunderstood”. Yet the next day the Times reports that only half the lorries are being searched.

I travel to St Olave’s with Mary in the car for their Holy Week service – simple Anglican and nice – then rush back for a Vote Leave photo.

“For my part I make no resistance, neither did I turn away. I offered my back to those who struck me, my cheeks to those who tore at my beard. I did not cover my face against insult and spittle.” (Isaiah 50)


We drive down to Downside with lunch on the way. It is lovely to look forward to this best of weekends which each year passes all too quietly. The same unchanging routine liturgy and my room at the top of Roberts House. And this day the Mass of the Lord’s Supper with the hymn at the end as we process up to the flower-strewn Lady Chapel. Ben attempts to walk across Salisbury Plain from Shrewton and Mary arrives back exhausted having picked him up from the rain.

“It was before the festival of the Passover and Jesus knew that the hour had come for him to pass from this world to the Father.” (John 13)


A Cross Walk from wells to Downside across golden countryside in bright warm sunlight, no need to wear a Barbour. We walk for four hours, arriving happy and exhausted, fourteen stations and a fish-and-chip lunch. I can barely stand for the Passion and intercessions yet tea and silent prayer with Father Christopher revive the drooping spirit.

I get more into “Maranatha”. It is the last sentence of the Apocalypse – Come Jesus Christ, which Father Anselm tells us is bad Greek. The extra two words, Jesus Christ, make this silent prayer more about awaiting.

Father Anselm, Leo, and Boniface sing the Passion. Leo’s voice is full of tired dignity and resignation.

“Jesus said ‘Who are you looking for?’ They answered, ‘Jesus the Nazarene’. He said, ‘I am He.’”

Not surprising. He had echoed God’s words: I am He.


Mr Walters does a workshop on the Year of Mercy. An interesting philosophical point which I put: God has affective not effective emotion. Being God he is not emotional so Jesus if God cannot feel emotion, but as Man can. Is that why God has to become man? We have a library tour and the librarian opens up an original edition of Thomas More.

After all this and a swim I am tired as always for the Vigil, especially as it finished at 1am. The clocks are going forward but revived by the Psalmist:

“As the deer yearns for the running stream, so my soul yearns for thee my God.”

Fifth Week in Lent

SUNDAY – Fifth Sunday in Lent

Isaiah 43:16-21

“Thus says the Lord: Who made a way through the sea, a path in the great waters, who put chariots and horse in the field.”

A quiet day in Lincs. Mass at Holy rood and a run around the block and Monti running around me, vanishing for 20 minutes. One moment he is there, and in a flash gone.


I took Monty to the office. He was fairly well behaved. A lovely spring day after a long meeting in the morning.

“I am trapped, Susanna said. If I agree, that means my death. If I resist, I cannot get away from you. But I prefer to fall innocent into your power than to sin in the eyes of the Lord.” (Daniel 13)

Life is full of impossible choices.


Another long meeting in the morning. I go straight into the chamber and do a point of order on the Investigatory Powers Bill. Why should the Government be allowed to snoop on hostile MPs without consulting the Speaker?

Collect of the Day: Grant us, we pray O Lord, perseverance in obeying your call, that in our days the people dedicated to your service may grow in both merit and number.”


I am sitting quietly through the Budget and suddenly hear that we are to have an elected mayor in Lincolnshire. I complain to both the Communities Secretary and the Chancellor but I fear it is a fait accompli.

“I can see four men walking about freely in the heart of the fire without coming to any harm.” (Daniel)

I always think of this incident when to do something seems without hope.


I speak in the Budget debate and quote from the 1765 incidents in Boston and Rhode Island when a sugar tax caused a riot. If not a sugar why not a salt tax?

“I tell you most solemnly: before Abraham ever was, I am.” (John 8)

An extraordinary claim.


A surgery in Market Rasen and a long discussion on devolution ideas. My speech interrupted by breaking news of IDS’s resignation. We never have had such excitement at one of our meetings.

I read Psalm 79 after Monty has raced across the Wolds:

“O God, the nations have invaded your inheritance. They have defiled your holy temple. They have reduced Jerusalem to rubble.”


We drive back from the St Olave’s Spring Dance – a jolly occasion not spoilt by me locking the keys in the car.

Psalm 80:

“Give ear, O Shepherd of Israel, thou that leadest Joseph like a flock, thou that dwellest between the Cherubim, shine forth.”

Fourth Week in Lent


I had a question on faith schools. Why does the government impose a fifty per cent cap on people from one faith entering a school? They are not concerned about 100% Catholic or Anglican schools. They are worried about 100% Muslim schools but they refuse to admit it.

Psalm 72:

Truly God is good to the upright, to those who are pure in heart
But as for me, my feet had almost stumbled, my steps had well nigh slipped.
For I was envious of the arrogant, when I saw the prosperity of the wicked.


I go to the Cosmonauts Exhibition in the Science Museum. There was a strange spiritual movement in Russia at the end of the nineteenth century which proclaimed that man’s salvation could be found in space.

Today the strange poetic reading from Ezekiel 47:

“The angel brought me to the entrance of the Temple, where a stream came out from under the Temple threshold and flowed eastward…”


Today I speak and vote against extension of Sunday trading. One of those exciting lively Commons debates on a moral issue and we win. I quote Lord Sachs on the atomisation of society. Seven-day, twenty-four-hour shopping has not made us any happier.

A beautiful reading from Isaiah today:

“…on every roadway they will graze, and each bare height shall be their pasture. They will never hunger or thirst, scorching wind and sun shall never plague them.”


We have one of our twice-yearly Public Accounts Commission hearings and I for only the second time chair a Committee of the Whole House and take a division. An amusing experience.

“O Lord remember me out of the love you have for your people.”


I speak on the deportation of foreign criminals. And my ten minute rule bill on reform of the House of Lords finally bites the dust. Later we have a dinner at the Hickman Hill Hotel in Gainsborough which I always enjoy and it reminds me of my selection there thirty years ago.

Today a passage from John 7. One of those amazing monologues.

“Yes you know me and you know where I come from. Yet I have not come of myself. No, there is one who sent me and I really come from him and you do not know him.”

I could say: and nor do I.


I let Monty off into the vast Lincolnshire countryside and he vanishes for twenty minutes, bounding back for his piece of chicken. It’s lovely to see him run – he is made for running. I take him to his dog den. He walks round and round in circles with twenty other dogs and is as good as gold.

I do a surgery at Market Rasen and go to our village church to read Psalm 78.

“Give ear, O my people, to my law: incline your ears to the words of my mouth. I will open my mouth in a parable: I will utter dark sayings of old. Which we have heard and known and our fathers have told us. We will not hide them from their children, showing to the generation to come, the praises of the Lord.”

Third Sunday in Lent

SUNDAY – Third Sunday in Lent

We spend a quiet day in Lincolnshire and go to Mass at Market Rasen. I run around the block – i.e. a three mile run through and around Stainton le Vale.

“I have seen the miserable state of my people in Egypt. I have heard their appeal to be free of their slave drivers. Yes I am well aware of their sufferings. I mean to deliver them out of the hands of the Egyptians.” (Exodus 3:1-8, 13-15)

Thus early “migrants” were helped. Who helps them now? But I suppose God had an easier task. Their numbers were finite.


We drive back for a lunch at Speaker’s House for the President of the Italian Chamber of Deputies. She lectures us about migrants but how many are staying in Italy? She admits that because of the close business and family structure that there are few jobs. I ask the Secretary of State for Defence on a scale of 1 to 10 to rate and compare what is more important to our national security: NATO or the EU?

Late, I make the 5:30 Mass. Good old Naaman.

“Naaman was indignant. ‘Here was I thinking he would be sure to move his hand over the spot and cure the leprous part. Surely Abana and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus are better than any water in Israel?’”

We all think that our waters are better than theirs, but are they?

We have an urgent question on Eurosceptic ministers not being able to access civil service briefs. I ask a question. I am amused by the Times sketch the next day. I am refered to as a “stately home”. My question was light-hearted. Say for the moment I am the fisheries minister – young, ambitious, good-looking…


I ask the Foreign Secretary (who is not there) about Syria and the West’s responsibility for Iraq, Libya, and Syria and our obsession with overthrowing authoritarian leaders and thereby creating an opening for totalitarian movements.

“We have at this time no leader, no prophet, no prince, no oblation, no incense, no place where we can offer up the first fruits.” (Daniel 3)


Archbishop Gallagher, the foreign minister of the Vatican, says our evening Mass and I host a reception for him in Speaker’s House. Perhaps it is the first ever visit to the House of Commons by the Pope’s foreign minister. At supper we debate the migrant dilemma. The good Catholic side of me tells me we should let more in, the prudent conservative side of me warns against.

“Jesus said to his disciples, do not imagine that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets: I have come not to abolish the, but complete them.” (Matthew 5:17-19)


My Lenten fast starts to fray at the edges. I have kept off wine for the best part of a month. Now I am in a quandary. We go to see Leo di Caprio in The Revenant. I keep my eyes shut for most of the first half hour.

“Oh that today you would listen to his voice, harden not your hearts.” (Ps 77)


I travel down to Downside for an oblates’ weekend after talking for forty-five minutes on illegal immigration in the Commons.

As I arrive immediately the atmosphere of the monastery seeps in. I sit in the choir for vespers and compline. Later, alone in the great abbey, the pillars rising into the dark like the columns of Moria. I gaze at the Basano painting and yet again for an instant, a few seconds of grace, I believe. This is God, and alone in the quiet I light a candle.


Father Alexander at our oblates meeting asks us to read John 9 quietly to ourselves before he talks on it.

I read it several times in modern translation and in the King James Bible. How easy it is to miss its many meetings. All are blind, the disciples who ask the silly question. Is it his fault he is blind? The Pharisees who refuse to accept his cure, his parents who want to conform and therefore dodge his sight. Only the blind man grows in sight, and eventually recognises Jesus as God.

Late after Vigils I am alone in the abbey church. At nine, the lights go off. Although I am halfway down the great church, perhaps 100 yards away, my small candle I have lit in front of the statue of Christ burns and casts an extraordinarily bright glow in the pending gloom.

Light and sight grow in steps, not from reason but experience. I see the light, the ground shifts, and for a moment I believe.

Second Sunday in Lent

SUNDAY – Second Sunday in Lent

“Taking Abram outside, the Lord said ‘Look up to Heaven and count the stars if you can. Such will be your descendants.’” (Genesis 15)

It is the billions of stars and planets that causes me the greatest doubt about not the divinity of Christ but whether he was the whole show. Strange that in this ancient script, the very first book of the Bible, it is the sheer number of stars that invites comment and interest. I sometimes wonder if these people were so naïve as we imagine. Abram too would from his desert encampment look up at incomparable glory of thousands of stars, in a crystal clear air, unencumbered by fog or light pollution. They must have been his nightly friends, inspiring his vision, his outlook into the unfathomable.

And this weekend they have been arguing about Europe.

MONDAY – The Chair of St Peter

The Chair of St Peter sounds so grand, yet Peter must have been no more than a hunted insurgent.

“Never be a dictator over any group in your charge.” (1 Peter 5)

I take part in the Prime Minister’s statement on Europe. I ask about the Middle East and Syrian migrants. Peter, of course, was one.


I ask the Foreign Secretary about Syria and Russia. A ceasefire is imminent.

I go to the funeral of one of my ladies in the Cathedral. Simple, a mixture of Latin and English for a fine person.


An orthodox rabbi came to see me. We are setting up an all-party group. Faith schools are under threat as never before. Regulations designed to catch a few – very few – Jihadists are going to impact all schools. Schools should be entitled to teach their faith, however unpalatable to the prevailing ethos, as long as you teach respect for others. Religions are entitled to have a point of view.

Entrance Antiphon: “Let my steps be guided by your promise: may evil never rule me.”


I speak in the Europe debate. Has the EU brought peace in Europe? People argue passionately for it. Yes, there is peace in Europe. Yes, the EU exists. That does not mean that the former is the result of the latter.

Today’s Psalm: “Happy the man who has placed his trust in the Lord.”


If you are looking for a cure for insomnia, read my speech on Europe today – an hour long. Timing is relaxed on a Friday.

“There was a man who planted a vineyard…” (Matthew 21)


The hunt came to Stainton le Vale and I walk through the quiet deep wooded valleys in its wake.

Glorious early spring colours of browns and greens, lone horsemen on the horizon everything moving quietly in the flow of the countryside. Monty pulling on the lead, his attention on the moment – for him no past or future.

“O God, who grant us by glorious healing remedies while still on earth…” (Collect)

First Week of Lent


Benedict is ill and I say lots of Hail Marys. Do they do any good I wonder? Surely, if the telephone is connected, they must do so. But is there anyone at the other end? Worth the trouble?

The entrance antiphon today is appropriate: “When he calls on me, I will answer him.”


We are in Lincolnshire for the whole week for half term. What a delight. This is Monty’s training day. We pick him up at tea time a reformed character, but back home he has forgotten his training.

I read Psalm 82 in our village church in the King James Bible: “God standeth in the congregation of the mighty. He judgeth among Gods.”


I have a day visiting businesses. It’s good to see a family business, surviving, growing, and manufacturing just as William Rose did one-hundred-and-fifty years ago, inventing a process to package tobacco.


More training for Monty. He trails around after the other dogs, walking in a circle as good as gold.

Psalm 83: “Keep not thou silence, O God hold not thy peace, and be not still O God.”


I am still persisting with no alcohol or chocolate. The only way is not to do it as a penance but because one feels better.

Psalm 84: “How amiable are the tabernacles, O Lord of Hosts.”

A particularly beautiful and poetic psalm.


A day in Gainsborough. I visit a site where what I have advocated for years might happen: a marina. I buy and follow on to Eckhardt Tolle’s book. One must, I am reminded, be the silent watcher of our thoughts. Our mind, our thoughts are not us.


More Monty training.

Psalm 85: “Lord, thou hast been favourable unto thy land, thou hast brought back the captivity of Jacob.”

Ash Wednesday


The Mass in the abbey church is superb. A perfect blend of English and sung Latin and then all too soon my visit is over and I am back in the train, listening to people on their mobile phones.


The Public Accounts Commission which I chair, in conversation with the Minister, decides to do the same job for the new Public Service Ombudsman as for the National Audit Office. A tiny piece of parliamentary history.

Today Solomon brings the Ark of the Covenant containing Moses’s tablets into the Temple. What if they had survived? No doubt being subjected to scientific testing which might prove embarrassing – can you tell the age of a stone and the writing on it?


A red letter day. I am invited to the first Catholic sung vespers in the Chapel Royal at Hampton Court Palace in, I calculate, 458 years.

I sat in the choir stalls. Vincent Nichols looks superb in full golden cope and mitre. A cardinal leading the prayers, like a medieval picture.

I look up to the gallery and I imagine I can see Mary Tudor looking down. A glorious experience. Vespers commences with the traditional words: “O Lord open my lips…”

With these words, untold generations of monks have in the cold dark of the morning started their office with Matins.


I turn up at Mass at 1030 and the church is much fuller. I remember it is Ash Wednesday. Previously all attempts at fasting during Lent have failed because they have been a penance. But since going to Downside I have not drunk any wine. I feel better so I will keep going.

I return to the Cathedral at 5:30 to receive the ashes and to listen to Allegri’s Miserere, with the men’s choir behind the high altar and the boys’ choir high up in the gallery – in Heaven. Certainly heavenly voices proceeding down the gallery and the high altar end.

The reading from Joel 2:12-18 always draws one up: “Let your hearts be broken not your garments torn. Turn to the Lord your God again, for he is all good.”

THURSDAY – Our Lady of Lourdes

There is a statement from the Health Secretary on seven-day working and the doctors’ dispute. I ask why someone of my age should have a greater chance of dying.


The engineer for the dog fence arrives in our Lincolnshire cottage. The idea is to try and prevent Monty escaping the garden and worrying the sheep.

I spend most of the day with the engineer and manage a quick visit to our local church to read Psalm 80.


A quiet day in Lincolnshire. I read Psalm 81: “Sing for joy to God our strength, shout aloud to the God of Jacob.”

4th Week in Ordinary Time


We go to Doddington Hall. A charming Elizabethan house on the edge of Lincoln with a medieval church – locked, despite it being Sunday.

The reading from 1 Corinthians today I read over the burial of my father’s ashes.

“Love is always patient and kind; it is never jealous. Love is never boastful or conceited; it is never rude or selfish; it does not take offence…”

How often in our marriages do we try and gain an advantage? How often do we take offence or are resentful?


“David then made his way up the Mount of Olives, weeping as he went, his head covered and his feet bare.” (2 Samuel 15:13-14)

I have stood too on the Mount of Olives and looked across the valley to Jerusalem. Who stands there cannot weep in his heart for this divided history. Even in my own lifetime war has raged across the city.

TUESDAY – The Presentation of the Lord

As chair of the All-Party Russia Group, I take twenty MPs to lunch with the Russian Ambassador in his residence. Later in the Mail on Sunday I am accused of gushing friendship. But there was no gushing of Putin, only of Russian culture and language. Who cannot gush praise on the language of Tolstoy and Dostoevsky?

This is the day when in the Cathedral the crib is at last taken away.

“Now, Master, you can let your servant depart in peace; just as you promised. Because my eyes have seen the salvation which you have prepared for all the nations to see.” (Luke 2:22)

Is this the most charming and beautiful passage in the Gospels?


I often seem to have a sore throat and I enjoy getting it blessed today.

I take part in a debate on funding of health authorities.

David seems to get in trouble with the Lord for holding a census. I’m not sure why this is so wrong.

If we make mistakes the consequences seem dire.

“The Lord sent a pestilence on Israel from the morning till the time appointed and plague ravaged the people.” (2 Samuel)


I make an intervention in the debate on Europe: “My Hon Friend (Bill Cash) is so right to raise the debate above mere technicalities. He will remember that at his school (Stonyhurst) he was told that the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church. Is not the blood of all these parliamentarians who died in defence of this cause the seed of our liberties?”


I journey down to Downside. It is oblates weekend. I arrive in time for midday prayer and Father Alexander kindly lets me sit in the choir for the rest of the weekend liturgy. I walk down to the beautiful valley, coming back for tea. The only time we talk in the refectory. Later, after compline, I am alone in the vast almost dark abbey. I light a candle and go up to the Bossano painting of the raising of Lazarus. As I look at the painting and think about life and death suddenly a sense of peace arrives. Something quite palpable tells me ‘Do not be afraid; I know of your coming and your passing. I am with you and will shelter you.’

One can reason for years but these all too busy moments of faith and understanding and intuition, rather than any logical process or proof, are more, much more, important.


A wonderful Mass at 8.35 sung in Latin then an oblates’ day. Already little of the discourses remains with me a week after the event. But does it matter? There is a memory of the quiet psalms with just half a dozen monks and a determination to carry on with the slow painful walk of writing my encounter with the life of Benedict and my view that the revival of the monastic movement depends as much on lay people as full time religious. Just as in the fifth century we live in a violent time. Monasteries are an oasis. But in Benedict’s time, it was lay brothers who led the way.

3rd Week in Ordinary Time

SUNDAY 3rd Sunday in Ordinary Time

St Francis de Sales – always a favourite of mine. I can picture him riding thousands of miles over the beloved Chablais mountains trying to evangelise them. A prophet of the view that all can seek a devout and above all a spiritual life – you do not have to be a monk or a hermit.

“Driven more by love than the desire to win.” – “Whoever wants to preach effectively must preach with love.”

MONDAY – The Conversion of St Paul

I took Monty to Warwick Square and experimented letting him off the lead. He never came back to the irritation of the gardener so there was no time for Mass.

In the afternoon I was the only MP who questioned whether we should take 3,000 Syrian refugee children, making the difficult argument than reason is more important than emotion.

“I was born at Tarsus in Cilicia. I even persecuted this way to the death. I was on that journey and nearly at Damascus when about midday a bright light from Heaven suddenly shone around me.” (Acts 22:3-16)

If Paul was alive today we would probably not let him in as a Syrian migrant.

TUESDAY – Sts Timothy and Titus

These saints were converted by St Paul.

I had a justice question on the order paper. I made the point that if the justice department can cut its budget by 25% and deliver much the same outcome why not other departments?

Isn’t this passage from 2 Timothy 1:1-8 lovely:

“…and always I remember you in my prayers; I remember your fears and long to see you again to complete my happiness. Then I am reminded of the sincere faith which you have; it came first to live in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice.”


I miss most of the Crypt Mass at 6pm because I go along to the Young Pro-Lifers. Committee Room 16 is packed, an inspiring rally of young people. Maybe our work, we always lose, is not entirely in vain.

The Gospel which I read later on is from Mark 4:1-20:

“The people were all along the shore at the water’s edge. He taught them many things in parables.”

THURSDAY – St Thomas Aquinas

After a training session with Monty, I go to evensong at the Cathedral. The choir sings Faure’s Cantique de Jean Racine. Its tones haunt me as I drive back.

“Who am I, O Lord, and what is my house?” (1 Samuel)

How wonderful that this greatest of Christian writers should suddenly, celebrating Mass, have a vision that he said made all his writings seem like straw, and there was no need to write anymore.


Our village church is locked all this long weekend so I just read Universalis on my iPhone.

I do a surgery. Why are we taking the pension away from 60-year-old women so quickly?

In 2 Samuel today David sacrifices Uriah the Hittite to his own conscience.


The Jehovah’s Witnesses call on our cottage and as usual I talk to them.

This week’s Watchtower is on the theme of Hebrews 13:18 –

“We trust we have an honest conscience, as we wish to conduct ourselves honestly in all things.”