30 December 2019 – Monday

I was sitting in our village church. The bright winter sun streaming in from the windows facing south made a play of light on the wall, giving a sense of calm transcendence and movement, yet always the same.

“Sing a new song unto the Lord. Sing unto the Lord, all the whole earth” (Ps 96)

29 December 2019 – Sunday

Ecclesiasticus is full of good advice. I like the bit about looking after the old dad: “Even if his mind should fail, show him sympathy.”

And of course the exhortation for husbands which is known so well. Better not write it down in case I fall short…

27 December 2019 – Feast of St John

“He saw and he believed.”

The first to do so and the only one to stand at the foot of the cross. If one could be with anyone in history would it not be he?

After communion the priest kept a silence. The atmosphere was so heavy with the presence of God, you could cut it with a knife.

Christmas Day

In all the glorious magnificence of Midnight Mass in Latin one phrase stands out and is endlessly repeated in my brain.
In the second reading of St Paul’s letter to Titus:

“What we must do is give up everything that does not lead to God and all worldly ambition.”

22 December 2019 – Fourth Sunday of Advent

Today is the last Sunday in Advent and at Mass we have the collect said every day in the Angelus.

As I sit later alone in the village church, with the afternoon light streaming in, it is a beautiful thing again to read. Again a great sense of a presence.

“Pour forth we beseech you O Lord your grace into our hearts that we, to whom the incarnation of Christ Your Son was made known by the message of an angel, may, by His Passion and Cross, be brought to the glory of His resurrection.”

Apparently more people believe in Angels than God. But then where do they come from? We should certainly treat casual strangers in the street well. They may be an angel.

21 December 2019 – Saturday

Saturday 21st December. The shortest day.

I am alone in the village church at dusk at 4 o’clock. All is hushed and fading. The pictures inside the church merging into the gloom.

I read The Song of Songs:

“Come then my love, my lovely for see winter is past.”

I sit silent and feel that presence of God that only comes in true loneliness. But a joyful one. A profound sense.