A matter of death and life

Back under cloud cover again today. Getting to bed half an hour earlier helped me get up a bit earlier, just after an excellent Thought for the Day by Catholic journalist Catherine Pepinster in which she spoke about the Christian concept of Conscience on this day when Parliament debates the draft bill on assisted dying. The public debate so far has been very interesting, as it has raised a host of practical questions and doubts whose seriousness may have escaped the attention of proponents of the bill. The very last stage of life is often fraught with physical suffering and mental anguish. 

I can understand what makes this intolerable for some, and leads them to hasten their own death. It already happens legally in ten countries under certain conditions and probably in many more countries outside the gaze of the law. 'Thou shalt not kill' is a moral imperative widely ignored when it comes to war. For better or for worse medical science prolongs life and on times, it does so when it be more compassionate to stop treatment and let a person die naturally. 

Actively helping people on their way is a different issue, however, and very complex. The law is a mess on end of life issues. I wouldn't want to be kept alive if I was too so sick that relationships with my nearest and dearest were no longer possible, but let my end be natural not managed. Others may think differently. Suicide is no longer against the law. Accountability for assisting someone to die on their own terms must be under strict scrutiny, but with criminal sanctions used as a last resort. And that's where it gets very complex. One thing that will keep coming to the fore is the fact that not enough is invested in caring for the elderly vulnerable, in end of life care and palliative care. Let's hope that the very fact of this present debate will help shift priorities.

There are also questions to consider about there being a right to take one's own life. Is this right the ultimate consumer freedom? Customising your demise goes way beyond customising your funeral just because you can, whether or not your choices please others. How does duty and responsibility towards others fit with 'rights'? It's painfully individualistic, choosing to cut all interpersonal bonds, ignoring the community nature of any farewell ritual imposing your choice on others who feel obliged to carry out your dying wishes without an honest say in the affair? Nobody should have to suffer, not have too much say in how others mourn your passing. 

While I was making breakfast, I had a call from Ruth about the podcast. She had concerns about a few of the things she had mentioned. I made a note of them and reassured her that I could edit them out, rather than her needing to come around and re-record. I got to work after breakfast, and after an hour and a half of tinkering with the audio, she was satisfied with the outcome. Meanwhile the aroma of Christmas fudge and the sound of Clare beating it in the kitchen reached me in the front room.

We had a salad lunch including Greek gigantes beans that Clare slightly overcooked, which gave them an interesting slightly caramelised flavour. Then I went out early for a walk, up to Western Avenue and down the east bank of the Taff to the Millennium Bridge and back home. I was interested to see what traces there were of the river overflow last weekend. There are still treacherous patches of mud on the hard of the path which haven't yet dried out, branches and twigs carried by water caught up in bramble patches and in occasional pieces of fencing. Low hanging trees and undergrowth have trapped plastic sheeting and bags, a sad and ugly sight, with little likelihood of the plastic being removed.

In the five o'clock news, we learned that Parliament has adopted the assisted dying bill. That means it will be scrutinised, subjected to modification by both Houses. Today's debate will I suspect, continue a process that will eventually lead to effective legislation. What the eventual outcome will be remains to be seen.

The whole world was treated to news video footage of the interior of Notre Dame de Paris during today's visit by President Macron today. It's a wonderful sight, with the stonework and stained glass cleaned of seven centuries of grime, so it now looks as it did when it was first completed seven centuries ago, full of light and warmth. Restoration cost €700 million, most of it raised from donations. It was inspiring to hear one of the carpenters working on rebuilding the roof speak on the Today programme this morning. Asked about the reason for using medieval wood working tools to fashion the oak roof beams, he said this was necessary to obtain the highest quality most durable timbers to work with. It seems that mechanical saws stress the wood cutting too much across the grain when the older slower gentler implements didn't. There's a lesson about life to be learned in this, one which I'm sure the luthier working on Dad's 'cello will be well acquainted with.

We went out for supper at Stefano's for a change. When we got back I scanned another batch of negatives from a 1997 hike in Haute Savoie, I think, though I'm not sure where we walked. It may have been up the mountain behind La Baume. Lovely times.

Tuesday in Holy Week

It's been interesting to follow today's news stories in the aftermath of the Notre Dame Cathedral fire - with half a billion euros for restoration funding pledged by big corporations, some in the construction industry. They have an eye on investing in skills training for historic conservation projects by the sound of it, although it seems France is already well blessed in this employment sector.

This crisis offers a public opportunity to celebrate the bravery and persistence of firefighters whose untiring efforts prevented total destruction of the building. It's astonishing that the ancient organ has survived, despite the deluge of water and molten lead. It's damaged no doubt, but hopefully it can be restored. How good to hear different voices expressing what this sacred edifice means to them, even if they never darken its doors to worship God. Interesting to hear commentators speaking about people grieving at the loss of a building. 

Photos of the fire damaged interior are remarkable - the cross suspended in the sanctuary over the high altar defiantly still in place. And people again out on the streets, singing and praying, city church bells tolling, acts of public witness by the faithful minority in a secular society, where many ancient church buildings are now monuments to a Christian past, museums of cultural history.

Interesting too, how this has awakened memories of the York Minister fire, and the Windsor Castle fire, affording an opportunity to review the fruit of post inferno restoration work, and speak to some of those responsible. It's raised discussion about the Houses of Parliament, needing restoration after only 150 years of life, subject to the same vulnerabilities, before restoration and eventually during the process. There doesn't need to be a lightning strike to start a fire. A faulty electrical connection will do, either in permanent or temporary lighting, not to mention neglected gas powered appliances. Nothing can be taken for granted when working in these conditions. 

Thinking about 'building grief', it seems to me that destruction of heritage architecture awakens more of a sense of loss nowadays than it did fifty years ago. Modernising our cities led to redevelopment plans that sacrificed many ancient buildings in those days, perhaps because they were too expensive to conserve or find a place in new grand urban schemes. Much was lost due to wartime bombing, but not always rebuilt from old plans, as happened across Europe, but rather replaced. The emphasis was 'out with the old, in with the new'. It gave us Basil Spence's masterpiece Coventry Cathedral, but also an ugly unappealing neighbouring town centre with few reminders of what had been lost.

Apart from walking to the wound clinic, and walking to church this evening, I didn't do much. I don't know why, but I lacked energy. I'm waking earlier as the days lengthen, and getting to bed earlier to compensate, though not always successful in getting off to sleep, and some days miss out on a siesta. I need a total of 7-8 hours daily one way or another, and if I don't, I can expect to pay for it. There were seventeen of us for this evening's Benefice Eucharist at St John's. It was quite late when I got around to looking at today's Málaga Semana Santa photos and video on the Diario Sur website, plus my own from last year. I'll pay for it tomorrow, no doubt.

Monday in Holy Week - fire tragedy in Paris

Another Monday with shopping in the morning then an afternoon clinic visit, but not quite routine,  having taken time during the day to look at photos posted on-line of Semana Santa processions in Málaga, and looking at my own from last year. And then, a walk to St Luke's to attend the Mass of Monday in Holy Week, along with twenty others.

On returning home, news was breaking about the roof fire in Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris, and I followed this for the rest of the evening, watching stunned and helpless with the rest of the world, but praying also with some in the crowds that gathered beyond the safety cordon, singing Marian devotional hymns. Four hundred firefighters, striving to save whatever can be saved of this great World Heritage site from destruction. Thank heavens, nobody has died.

Already powerful sentiments are being expressed by French leaders and others across the world, expressing the profound impact this is having on secular as well as religious people who treasure the cultural and historical, not to mention economic importance of this great building. Before President Macron pledged that Notre Dame would be restored, I had already begun to think about the scale of such a project and what it would take - I'm guessing several billions of Euros. 

Apparently, just last year, a high resolution 3D scanning project put on record a detailed image of the building, which can be put to use along with architectural plans made over centuries to aid a faithful restoration. Dresden's Frauenkirche, destroyed in the horrific firestorm of 1944 was rebuilt from archived plans. What can be done today is just as remarkable today in a different way, though it all relies on having the skilled artisans to do the job. Maybe this tragedy will inspire more people of a younger generations to offer their working lives to the pursuit of such craftsmanship.

Above all, however, it's the prayer of the faithful throughout, from tragedy to triumph, which make this much more than just a project to restore a great monument to human creativity. Without those 'living stones', the place would be no more than an empty shell.