We were in the Abbey for Sunday Mass for Father Leo’s last mass as Headmaster. A week later as I was writing this up I could not remember the reading but now it comes back to me. The woman of Samaria at the well. One shouldn’t forget it because actually it is quite remarkable. Jesus breaking all the taboos. Talking to a woman, on her own, she an outcast going alone to the well in the high heat of the day. Yet He reveals Himself to her:

“I who speak to you, am He.” (John 4:5-42)

The purpose of the sermon I think was Jesus’ words “Give me a drink”, which are addressed to us as well.

On Monday, we had the reading about Naaman being angry with Elisha for telling him to bath in the Jordan to cure his leprosy. I sympathise. Often we are asked to do so little with such immense consequences. Eventually Naaman, does the simple thing and he is cured. Like Naaman, who wants to bathe in his own waters, Abana and Pharpar, we too want to bathe in our own waters, in our own prejudices.

It is strange: sometimes within an hour or two of listening to a reading I just for the life of me cannot recall it. I cannot recall today’s reading without looking it up. It is about the wicked servant. Our debts are forgiven: how often do we forgive others?

On Wednesday we had a statement on the Ukraine. If only the EU and Russia could share influence and investment the country could become a bridge to peace, not a downward path to war.

Thursday’s readings are about “A house divided against itself is heading for ruin.” Seldom remembered.

On Friday I went to a funeral for a friend, Mary in Market Rasen. She cared for the church. It was full. The Lord is my shepherd.

On Saturday I carried on my visits to our local church and came to Psalm 18 “Diligam te Domine”. I will love thee, O Lord my strength. This is a long one, but beautiful. It is all about reliance. The Saturday before I had reached Psalm 17 – “Exaudi Domine”, Hear the Light, O Lord – and the Saturday before that Psalm 16 – “Conserve me, domine”, preserve me o God for in thee I have put my trust.

It is rather a nice thing to do, to sit in an English country church, small in its medieval quiet and read from the King James Bible, the glorious English language, week by week.