A two Mass Wednesday

How nice, a Bank Holiday Monday, with nothing to do apart from a walk around Pontcanna Fields, and look for the Mallard family out and about on the Taff. Even better, another two Mallard families were to be seen out on the river. Apart from this, an unremarkable day.

Nothing to say about Tuesday either, except I made the effort to get to this week's Tai Chi class, despite having done little apart from occasional Chi Gung during the past few weeks, while nursing a shoulder complaining of mis-treatment after sleeping awkwardly. I came away feeling guilty of indolence, failing to memorise moves that I already knew.

Today's midweek Mass at St German's was in the quietness of the Lady Chapel. A late night email from Emma, head teacher of Tredegarville, advised us that the children were doing their SATS tests all day, so we contented ourselves with praying for kids, abused by governmental obsession with academic performance, manipulating the anxieties of parents as well as children into thinking that such results really matter in relation to eternity, let alone eventual adulthood. 

Before the world gets to be run by artificial intelligence, children get to be turned into organic robots by an education system which puts faith in achieving performance above the development of the gifts of the whole person. It's awful that dedicated teachers are no longer trusted to educate children without this horrible intrusion, which so distorts the formative process, and doesn't readily enable children to develop in their own way and at their own pace. We'll be sorry in the long run.

After the Mass, I stayed in the hall long enough to drink a cup of coffee, then walked into the city centre to celebrate the Eucharist for a dozen worshippers a second time at St John's city Parish Church, at the request of Vicar, Sarah Rowland Jones, who's away this week, as is Rhian her part time curate. There were several in the congregation who were there when I was Vicar. It's always a pleasure to worship with them again. It was also a delight to meet Randa, a Lebanese Maronite Christian, who assisted at the altar. She came and made her home here in Cardiff as a refugee many years ago, and eventually she found St John's. 

I met another Sarah too, an asylum seeker belonging to the Church of Pakistan, part of the Anglican Communion, who'd fled Pashawar because of hostility towards Christians there, and the indifference of the the state towards the implementation of its own secular constitution. It gave me such pleasure to find the church which gave so much to me in my eight years there as Vicar, still fulfilling its vocation as a community and a sacred place where all the world is warmly welcomed.

Before returning to St German's to get the car and drive home, I had lunch with Norma in the church tearoom, looking bright and spruce, and now returned to being run by a rota of church volunteers after a break of several years. I'm tempted to offer my services again as table clearer and dish washer, to help rebuild the volunteer team! 

Shrove Tuesday

The sun appeared through the clouds periodically this morning, the wind and rain was a much lighter than it has been for several days. Clare cooked a lentil dish for lunch, followed by traditional pancakes spread with Nutella for dessert. I finally left the house to attend my double session of Chi Gung and Tai Chi, back to back. Both classes were unusually poorly attended. I wondered if days of bad weather was deterring people from venturing out.

This morning the Lent blog went live with the first scheduled posting at 10.00. I'll schedule this time for each day's posting, to provide an element of consistency and rhythm. Even at the planning phase, I'm finding the exercise making clearer to me things about my own spiritual journey. I hope I can sustain my interest right through. Without that I cannot expect to interest others in what I want to say. You can find and read the Lent blog here.

Back to Tai Chi

More rain today, and a morning visit to the Dentists' in Llandaff North for a check-up. Clare needed the car to go to her study group. Not trusting the timetable, I left in good time, and arrived at the bus stop as one was pulling away, but the driver stopped and let me get on so I arrived over half an hour early. To while away the time with a cuppa I walked to a nearby cafe. Afterwards, I waited a quarter of an hour in the rain at the bus stop opposite the surgery, but arrived at home, the same time as Clare. We cooked lunch and ate together, as both of us were going to be out at supper time.

Having accepted invitations to speak at two different Mothers' Union branch meetings in the coming months, I spent the afternoon working on something to say to them, though not necessarily the same to both, as the branches are in quite different social settings with different issues to address. Then, for the first time since my return to classes, I attended my regular Chi Gung class, and then the Tai Chi class which follows. It's back to basics for me, and I was pleased to find my memory of the opening moves of the short form hadn't forsaken me, although as ever it'll need working on. There's always something to learn through executing even the most familiar of moves, not just about technique, but about your own state of mind.

By the time I'd walked home after the classes, my trousers were soaked through, and I ended the evening watching 'Silent Witness' on iPlayer wearing a dressing gown. I felt a bit decadent not bothering to change properly after a couple of hours work-out. I think I shall ache a bit tomorrow. All that concentration tires the muscles unaccustomed to the extra demand. 

   

Family misfortune

While I was out and about this morning, a message came through from sister-in-law Ann to say that Clare's brother Eddie had collapsed at home and taken emergency unit in Ipswich hospital. It wasn't clear from the symptoms whether he'd suffered a serious stroke or an epileptic seizure. Once they had him stabilised and gave him an MRI scan, the reality was different, more serious. An aortic aneurism, striking without warning. Stranger, still, as this was what killed his father in his eighties, he'd had a scan earlier in the year to ascertain whether or not he was vulnerable, and no risk detected.

Later in the day, pondering on this turn of events, I went for my annual 'flu jab at the GP surgery, and was also given an inoculation against shingles which I wasn't expecting. My mother suffered from high blood pressure, given diet and lifestyle factors that's not surprising, and she suffered a stroke on her first ever holiday abroad in the Black Forest. I've traveled more than they could have dreamed of, and have had a fairly stressful mobile lifestyle on times, but a different kind of diet has kept the worst problems at bay so far. With medication, my tendency to hypertension is more or less under control, though diastolic readings continue to vary wildly. A dear ex-colleague, John Duncan would put this down to what he called 'mercurial celtic temperament'. There are always stressful situations in life to respond to. The question is how resilient is it possible to remain as one gets older. I owe a great deal to what I've learned about coping well from regular Chi Gung and Tai Chi practice. I was thankful I had a class to go to this evening.

 

The cure for excess mental exercise

It's Michaelmass today. No opportunity to get to Mass, so the liturgical readings of the day had to suffice as food for the soul. The alternative Old Testament passage is from the story of Tobias and the Angel (in the deutero-canonical Book of Tobit). It's not about Michael, like the mainstream passage from Daniel, but about the Archangel Raphael, who ministers healing. It's quite a beautiful poetic passage, which I can't really say I've noticed before, perhaps because this was not a book I ever studied during training.

Another bereavement visit this morning, followed by several hours of work on preparing services and eulogy/obituaries on behalf of the families, as in neither case did anyone feel able to take on the task. Then I had to prepare for the Wednesday morning 'school Eucharist' at St German's, honouring the patron saint himself whose body arrived back in his native Auxerre on 1st October, after his death in Ravenna, sixteen centuries ago. A nine hour road journey today took sixty one days that long ago. 

Then I had to start work on a Harvest festival sermon for next Sunday afternoon when I preach at the lovely Patricio church, at the head of the Grwyny Valley in Monmouthshire's borderland. So, there was no time to spare to complete the painting job, and barely enough time to start preparing supper before I went to Chi Gung class. I felt pretty tired and stressed out, but the hour's workout was just what I needed to get me down out of my head and on to my feet.

     

Back into routine

Feeling quite tired yesterday after a busy weekend, so had a lazy morning, catching up on uploading photos to Picasaweb. Already last week's active leisure time enjoyment recedes into the distance. I went into the office in the afternoon to complete preparations for the evening's BCRP Board meeting. Chairman Gerry arrived early and briefed us on recent meetings with various interested parties, giving me a head start on things he wanted to say to the Board. Very helpful, as I am the default scribe for the meeting. It was a lively meeting securing our plans for a Business Crime Manager appointment and an annual meeting with a timetable. More work for me in pushing forward the publicity element of who we are and what we do, to my mind rather neglected until now. Having an active and interested management board makes all the difference.

After another tired and lazy morning, I turned to my scribbled notes from yesterday's meeting and set to work on producing a coherent set of minutes. Three hours later, despite enduring a fifteen minute migraine aura which came and went without further consequences, the job was complete. I was quite surprised at how much detail I did recall, once I joined notes to emerging thoughts. Sometimes it seems that I forget minor details very quickly, but the reality is that things are slower to register, but can be recalled, given time. Just like an old hard drive with little empty space left. For the moment however, I can still turn out a decent job, providing I work hard enough.

This evening I rejoined the Chi Gung class in St Mary's Church Hall. It's a year since I last attended, and it did me a power of good. There were were a good mix of familiar and new faces, and Christie was on excellent inspiring form, gentling us all back into action. A perfect antidote to excess mental effort. It was dusk when I walked back home. How the nights are drawing in. The chill of autumn promotes brisk walking rather than a leisurely stroll.

  

Midweek meditation

So good to awaken to a day of clouds but no rain, and as warm as one might expect in a British Spring. My first assignment of the day was to celebrate the mid morning Eucharist at St Catherine's, our local Parish Church, for a regular midweek congregation of eight, plus a couple of small children. After that, I had to get myself to the far end of Canton to join the monthly Ignatian prayer group, meeting there in the home of one of  its members. I spend quite a lot of time in silence and solitude these days. I doubt if I could cope with doing many other things without dipping into this infinite spiritual reservoir. Even so, silence together is even more nourishing, like a place where many deep running waters flow together. 

I get the same sense of rightness from Chi Gung and Tai Chi classes too. Even though we're being talked through our movements by a class teacher, everyone is quietly focussed, aware and intent on right action. To say that the one is Christian in its ethos and the other is indeterminate, or Chinese, fails to recognise universality of endeavour motivated by a higher sense of value and purpose. Divine grace, to the scandal of this world's particularists, knows no boundary of religion or culture. Communion in living silence can be achieved from no matter what starting point or means, as a path into the heart of the divine life. It's a conviction that's grown in my heart the longer I've lived, and I refuse to surrender it, no matter what hyper-orthodox or conservative fundamentalists threaten regarding my spiritual welfare.

From lunch after the meditation group, I went into town to spend the afternoon in the CBS office. St John's City Parish Church bells were ringing for a wedding. When I got into the office, the city centre manager's CCTV monitor displayed the camera output showing the church west door under the tower, with bridal limousine parked outside and people arriving late for the service. I was told that it was the wedding of a Sayer family member - leading fun-fair providors in the city and across the country. Seven coaches of guests, plus limos had been allowed through the security cordon for the occasion. It was so nice to know that access arrangements I'd worked at putting in place years ago when I was Vicar were still functioning.

As there are continuous changes in the world of commerce, with companies starting up, going bust or trying to re-start all the time, the management of record changes involved is continuous, sometimes complex. Attention to detail is everything. It's not my strength, but Ashley is generally thorough and diligent in checking and following through on the requirements of every users. What I have to do is make sure all is well recorded, and users know what we know. It's a perpetual work in progress. My reward for the day's efforts? A night at home doing nothing in particular.