Easter persecution

I was glad of the quietness of Holy Saturday, to send out some Easter greetings, and prepare a homily for the Easter Vigil. The City's half marathon day created traffic problems for anyone going about their usual business during the day, so I was glad not to need to go out until after six. By that time, the roads were clear and transit to St Germans was easy.

Just fifteen of us gathered as the sun set, to kindle and bless the fire, process through the church with the Paschal Candle and proclaim Christ's resurrection. I took great pleasure in chanting the Exultet in the traditional manner. The acoustic of the building is very sympathetic to unaccompanied singing. It went well, thanks to the great team work of the servers and congregation members involved in the readings. It was gratifying that Hamid was there, having participated properly in the observances of Lent and Holy Week for the first time since his baptism.

I put all the house clocks forward, and enjoyed this week's interestingly complex episode of 'Follow the Money', offering a lay person's guide into the world of insider trading and dodgy corporate finance. Then, I made an effort to go to bed early enough to compensate for the loss of an hour. It's never easy to go to sleep however, but without the need to get up for an early service, this was less of a problem than it has been in the past, when the arrival of Summer Time clashes with Paschaltide.

There were over fifty of us for the Solemn Mass, blessing of the Easter Garden and procession, and the sun came in and out of the clouds brightening the interior of the church wonderfully.

After the service, we said goodbye to Hamid with a small card and a gift. He moves to Portsmouth to accommodation which isn't in a hostel, something he's been waiting for over many months. I'd promised to write him a letter of commendation so that a Portsmouth parish could be quickly appraised of the detail of his story, which is still difficult for him to express adequately given his limited English, but being so busy this past few days, I'd forgotten, and promised to take one to him later in the day.

Kath and Rhiannon arrived just at the same time as I arrived home, and Owain came an hour and a half later, having overslept due to the advancing of the clock, so we had our lunch rather later than usual. For Clare this was hardly the pleasant family weekend she was looking forward to, being stricken with a very nasty virus with complex symptoms. I had to hunt for a pharmacy still open, over the other side of town, to buy her some cough medicine before meeting Hamid to give him the promised letter. 

After we greeted each other, he told me that he'd just heard on the six o'clock news about the bombing of an Easter rally by Pakistani Christians in Lahore, with over sixty deaths. That's also in the Punjab, about four hours journey away from Rawalpindi, where he comes from. The Christian minority of the population in Pakistan is concentrated in the Punjab. I can only hope that the Home Office immigration court judges are fully appraised of the facts which convert deportees have to face if not granted leave to stay, and change their minds.

Tonight's final episode of 'The Night Manager' was an ingenious re-write of the original ending of the book, but disappointingly, I didn't spot the vignette appearance of Le Carre himself, Hitchcock style. Amazingly good telly drama. Fascinating how some top movie makers are now turning their hand to making TV serialised works instead of blockbuster movies. It must be hugely profitable, and it makes for high quality home entertainment as well.

Palm Sunday Pastoralia

The sun shone, but it was too chilly to start this morning's Palm Sunday procession at St German's out in the churchyard garden, Palms were distributed and blessed in the hall. Then we walked briskly across to the garden before entering church and doing a couple of circuits before starting the Mass. Last weekend a volunteer team came and did a superb job cleaning and tidying the garden, which had become overgrown in recent years. Then Hilary and Peter came with some bedding plants to give a lovely touch of colour to the place. Such a great source of good cheer to the congregation, numbering fifty people today.

After the service there was a sixtieth birthday party luncheon for local locksmith and church stalwart Richard Hill, his family, friends and congregation members filling the hall. Sadly, being well aware of the excellent food being served, I could only stay long enough to say grace and call for the first toast before going home, conscious of the need to arrange a bereavement visit for tomorrow's funeral at St Mary's Bute Street. Fortunately, making contact proved easy. When I arrived at the son's house, where we were meeting, I was touched to discover that Mam's coffin was in one corner of the lounge, very traditional. It's such a rarity to see nowadays. I introduced myself to husband, son and daughter in law and explained what had happened, and from our conversation gleaned additional information to add into Fr David's notes passed on to me. Then I felt confident about doing justice to the occasion tomorrow.

Another impressive episode of 'The Night Manager' this evening on BBC Four, full of tension and surprises, setting the scene for next week's finale. Straight after it, a Spanish comedy film was showing, also on BBC Four. 'Los Amantes Viajeres' is a very Rabelaisian spoof on the American 'Airplane' film series. I had to stay up and watch it for Spanish homework, and it made me laugh out loud. Although I would have struggled without sub-titles, it was good to hear dialogue at a normal pace, and find I could identify about half of the words, even if that fell short of full comprehension.

Not Mothers' Day but ...

Appalled to hear BBC Radio Four 'Sunday' programme refer to 'Mothers' Day' this morning, actively contributing to the loss of indigenous religious culture this morning. Anywhere else apart from here in the UK, there is a Mothers' Day in May, with the same hype. What's the matter with them?

 

At St German's again. ready for the Mothering Sunday Eucharist, I was caught out by the discovery that I'd prepared my sermon around the wrong set of readings. Serves me right for not checking! So, after a brief read through, I improvised, and enjoyed the challenge, without going on too long. Cards, flowers and a votive candle were given out to the congregation before the final blessing, and people went over and placed them on the votive stand in front of Our Lady, remembering their own mothers, if they were no longer in this world to receive the flowers. It was quite moving.

Owain came over for lunch bringing flowers and chocolates for his mum, and afterwards we went for a stroll around Thompson's Park. A couple of large trees have been blown down during the recent gales. They will take some clearing up.

Crocuses and daffodils are out in abundance, however, and the wonderful magnolia buds are just starting to break into flower.

They look the same every year, but still I take pictures of them, and marvel at their silent beauty.

Another beautifully crafted episode of Le Carre's spy masterpiece 'The Night Manager' on TV in the evening. The very opposite of action packed 'Spooks', everything happens at a snail's pace, generating an atmosphere of tension and suspense, even though it mostly takes place in the colourful bright sunlight of Mallorca.

Sneak thief

I arrived at St German's to celebrate Mass this morning, to learn that only moments before Angela's bag had been stolen from the back of the church, by a young man who'd entered just after she'd unlocked, and feigned to look around, and then snatched it when she deposited on a seat for a moment while attending to other things. He escaped on a bike, and was seen leaving by others arriving. Everyone was distressed, not just Angela. For me it brought back angry memories of the serial purse thief who hit St John's when I was Vicar there. Every time it happens, you think - if only ...

After the service, two policemen turned up, having heard the news. Angela having reported the crime was presumably busy cancelling her cards and getting her phone blocked. Her church keys were also taken, but thankfully, Richard, one of the church members, is a locksmith with a shop in Clifton Street, not far away. So, by the time we were already to depart for lunch, after coffee and a chat, both church and hall had been made secure again. What a heart break.

Again nasty weather, no opportunity to go out for an afternoon walk. I was most amused this morning to learn that I wasn't the only one complaining of fatigue and stiffness after the Stations of the Cross. In the evening the first episode of a film serialisation of John Le Carre's 'The Night Manager' had its first showing on BBC1. It was beautifully done, and the setting time shifted from the original 1990s to the present day. Given the continuing relevance of its look at the illegal arms trade, this is no bad thing. The great novelist himself was involved in making this development. The critics are beside themselves with excitement about it. Justifiably so, I'd say, on the basis of tonight's episode.