I woke up in bright sunshine at eight, to hear on the news of an assassination attempt on Donald Trump at a political rally in Pennsylvania. A bullet just nicked his right ear. He'd moved slightly away from the line of fire and that saved his life. His immediate response was anger and defiance, and within minutes blame was being laid at his Democrat opponents for criticising his political stance and untruthfulness. This will dominate the rest of the US presidential election campaign, no doubt. The perpetrator must have lost all common sense to believe doing away with Trump could make any difference for the better to the political future of the country.
Trump's combative rhetoric has catalysed anger and violence in times past. Whatever the motives of the shooter, violent words provoke a violent reaction. President Biden was quick to condemn the act and reach out to Trump sympathetically. There are questions in need of an answer about how a gunman could have got within shooting range above the stage. America is already divided and volatile. What might happen next? Trump has been a champion of the US gun owning lobby. How will this influence his position now he has been a target and the evil power guns unleash? Tonight's Euro cup final got less media coverage than might otherwise have been today, likewise Gaza.
The sky clouded over for much of the day. We went to St Catherine's for the Parish Eucharist, which today was very child oriented. A nave altar was used and Fr Sion had the children take part in a treasure hunt in church. It was very nicely done. The occasion celebrated the end of the Sunday School term, before a six weeks summer break, we were over fifty in church, a dozen of them children, with a happy atmosphere. It's what the St Catherine's needed to do justice to young families who make the effort to attend church. I couldn't help noticing that almost all the children present are girls. My guess is that the boys are attending sports matches or training out in the Fields. It's what I've observed when walking to Llandaff Cathedral on a Sunday morning. I have no idea how the church can address this spiritual deficiency.
I approve of such development in the life of the church community but it leaves me wanting more than I am receiving from collective worship. I miss extended periods of shared silence, and a sense of dwelling in awe and wonder at the divine presence. This I need more of as I get older. Recent years of activity as a voluntary pastor seem to have drained me to emptiness. I don't think occasional visits to the Cathedral or St German's or a long retreat can provide much more than a brief respite. For now, all I can do is dwell with the emptiness, keep waiting and trusting in the unknowable next time when the Spirit moves.
After lunch and a siesta, Clare and I walked over to Bute Park and had a cup of tea in the Secret Garden cafe, continuing to flourish since its contested lease was renewed, with people and their dogs turning up for a cuppa right up to closing time.
In the evening, we were grateful to have the summer evening concert by the Vienna Symphonia to watch, while the football was on. I made a batch of dough and left it to rise while we watched this, and a lovely documentary about Wales' favourite composer Carl Jenkins. Then I put the bread in the over to bake, while watching the performance of Verdi's Requiem which followed. I took the two perfectly baked loaves out of the over, just before bed time, filling the house with that wonderful aroma that makes a house smell like home.
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