Maundy Thursday

I didn't go to the Chrism Eucharist in the Cathedral this morning, as I reckoned I wouldn't have enough time to return afterwards, prepare lunch for Clare and be ready to get picked up to take an early afternoon funeral. 

Just by chance I came across a tweet from the Vatican News Service with a link to the text of homily of Pope Francis at the Chrism Mass in Rome. I found this a most inspiring read, made a digital copy and sent it to several colleagues He is reflecting about the tiredness so many clergy experience from giving out in so many different ways, an experience he is unafraid to admit that he shares. 

Yet, he sees this as something not to be resisted but accepted as an opportunity for God's graciousness to work its renewing power. What he says is applicable to anyone in a caring profession working with people. He is sometimes poetic and his text is rich with scriptural allusions and quotations. Missionary spirituality of the highest order.

The funeral was in Pidgeon's chapel followed by Western Cemetery burial, my fourth visit here in a row here over the past three weeks. The chapel was packed with mourners, as the deceased, Bob Virgin, was well known as a cartoonist. His work had been published in the local community newspaper Ely Grapevine for the past thirty eight years. The editor added his own tribute to the one from the family which I delivered, ending up by saying thanks for 'the many colours that flowed from your pen'.

After an early supper, I drove out to Taffs Well to celebrate the Eucharist of the Lord's Supper. I left in good time, to allow me time to sit quietly and say Evening Prayer beforehand, and arrived dead on seven, only to see Graham the Lay Reader standing at the door looking anxious... I'd put the same time in my diary as for the other three Holy Week services so far, seven thirty, not realising that tonight was at seven. We were only five minutes late starting, and the dozen folk present were very understanding.

It was a simple said service with address, and we processed silently into the hall with the sacrament reserved at the end, to a makeshift altar, where we spent 15-20 minutes keeping watch. Nobody wanted to stay longer, worshippers just wanted to get home as darkness fell.