ELEVENTH SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME

The poetry of Ezekiel 17:22-24:

“From the top of the cedar from the highest branch I will take a shoot and plant it myself on a very high mountain. I will plant it on the high mountain of Israel. It will sprout branches and bear fruit and become a noble cedar.”

MONDAY

I had a good day in the Commons proposing an amendment to give full fiscal autonomy to the Scots. They had a go at me for half an hour. To work hard in the chamber is good practice.

The psalm of today struck in my memory:

“The Lord has made known his salvation.” (Ps 97)

TUESDAY – St Richard of Chichester

A rare event: I put down an amendment two days in a row, this time on trying to ensure both sides spent equal amounts on the EU referendum.

“My soul gives praise to the Lord.” (Ps 145)

WEDNESDAY

A busy day, an early meeting, my father-in-law’s eightieth birthday, and I sat outside the committee room where members are voting for select committee chairs for two hours.

“And since without your mortal frailty can do nothing, grant us always the help of your grace.” (Collect)

THURSDAY

I fail in a bid to be the select committee chair. My vote is disappointing: it shows one should not take oneself too seriously – other people do not.

The Mass in the evening is for sick and retired priests. They really have given everything. Do we ever thank them?

“I only wish you were able to tolerate a little foolishness from me.” (2 Corinthians)

FRIDAY

I visit an old peoples’ home. They are only twenty, thirty years older than me but affected with dementia. They seem so old, just sitting there. Our time passes so quickly. I talk to Harold, a 95 year old who remembers Liverpool in the 1930s. A trade unionists all his life, he seems quite forgiving of a Tory.

“O Lord, hear my voice for I have called to you. Be my help.” (Entrance Antiphon)

SATURDAY – St Alban

We are almost at Midsummer Day. Sulky, rainy, cloudy – the wold’s hills I walk bathed in a quiet mist. St Alban’s land – our first martyr.

“…to stop me from getting too proud, I was given a thorn in the flesh.” (2 Corinthians)

And can anyone for all his worrying add one single cubit to his span of life?