Trees

An addendum to 28 November: At Colin's funeral we suggested that, instead of spending money on flowers, people might like to make a donation in his memory to The Woodland Trust.   Subsequently we discovered amongst his papers a cutting of the poem "Woodland Burial" by Pam Ayres -


   Don’t lay me in some gloomy churchyard shaded by a wall
   Where the dust of ancient bones has spread a dryness over all,
   Lay me in some leafy loam where, sheltered from the cold
   Little seeds investigate and tender leaves unfold.
   There kindly and affectionately, plant a native tree
   To grow resplendent before God and hold some part of me.
   The roots will not disturb me as they wend their peaceful way
   To build the fine and bountiful, from closure and decay.
   To seek their small requirements so that when their work is done
   I’ll be tall and standing strongly in the beauty of the sun.


It seems that our suggestion would have met with our brother's whole-hearted approval!

Goodbyes

We've had a spate of funerals in the past three months - my brother Colin on 19th September, Cathy's mother-in-law Marian on 18th November (Colin's birthday!) and our friend from Kennington days, Bert Brown on 25th November.   Colin having professed himself to be a non-believer, his service was somewhat muted: conducted by Revd Talisker MacLeod from the church my sister Margaret attended for many years, she steered a delicate path between atheism and Christianity.   Some commented on her unusual Christian name but the history of the MacLeods shows it to be entirely appropriate.   Marian's was even less religious - no prayers except the Lord's Prayer, no priest but an "Independent Minister", who spoke very well about the way Marian had enriched the lives of so many people and will live on in our hearts.  Bert's was the most "orthodox", conducted by Deacon Beverley Miles.   Bert was a World War II veteran and two poems reflected this: at the start of the service -

"When you come to the end of a perfect day and you sit alone with your thoughts,
While the chimes ring out with a carol gay for the joys that the day has bought,
Do you think what the end of a perfect day  can mean to  tired heart ?
When the sun goes does with a flaming ray and the dear hearts have to part?
Well, this is the end of a perfect day, near the end of the journey, too,
But it leaves a thought that is big and strong with a wish that is kind and true.
For memory has painted this perfect day with colours that never fade,
And we find at the end of a perfect day the soul of a friend we’ve made."

And at the end .......

“Miss me, but let me go.......”

"When I come to the end of the road and the sun has set for me,
I want no tears in a gloom filled room - why cry for a soul set free?
Miss me a little, but not for long, and not with your head bowed low,
Remember the love that we shared - miss me but let me go
For this is the journey we all must take and each must go alone
It’s all part of the Maker’s plan a step on the road to home.
When you are lonely and sick of heart, go to the friends that we know
And bury your sorrows in doing good works - miss me, but let me go."

May they all rest in peace.

All Saints 2011

A lovely service on 30 October in a small, ancient country church seating about 75 - there were about 80 of us! How appropriate that it falls so near Remembrance Sunday - we all sang lustily "For all the Saints" which I always confuse with "O Valiant Hearts".
Next is All Souls - but I will not be praying FOR my loved ones, I will be asking them to pray for me, and to forgive all the opportunities I missed to demonstrate my love for them whilst they were still with us.   My brother Colin was my most recent loss: he was exactly a year and four days younger than me and we grew up almost as twins.   He was heartbroken when I had to leave him to go to school, so Mother had a word with the headmistress and he was allowed to start with me.   Later that first morning Mother heard a tapping at the front door and there was Colin - he had walked home from school, only about a quarter of a mile, no busy roads, but Mother was surprised to see him.   "What are you doing here?" she asked.   "I've finished" said Colin.   "What do you mean, 'finished'?"   "I've learnt everything" he said with confidence.   He was like that: he used to say - in fun of course - "If I had a fault, which I haven't, it would be modesty".   May they all rest in peace.

Intercessions (Bidding Prayers)

After age 80 I thought I'd "done my bit" so I withdrew into the shadows, but I was badgered into leading the prayers so eventually I agreed.   I thought I just had to read out what the Vicar had written - but, no - "It's your job to  write them".   Oh, my - what have I let myself in for?   In spite of war and public service I was almost voiceless the first time but I'm getting bolder.   In fact, the Vicar has to remind us that we're talking to Abba (Michael Wenham once addressed him as 'Daddy' to show the true relationship).   So last Sunday I prayed first for the Church - "We pray for ourselves, Father - your Church - keep us ever mindful of the task your Son has set us - to proclaim your Gospel of love throughout the world.   And as you have called us to your service, make us worthy of that calling."   And so it went on, to "current affairs" - Norway was much in mind but I wanted to convey to Our Father that it wasn't His fault.  "Abroad, we pray for our brothers and sisters in Norway: we know,  Father, that you have taken into Your loving arms those who have died in that terrible man-made disaster; please comfort those who mourn, heal those who are sick or in any way distressed and bless those who care for them."   It amazes me how calm I feel AFTERWARDS!

The Church Militant here on Earth

I tend to think of the "Daily Telegraph" as the "Daily Catholic Herald" because they are so Papist in their views - which, I suppose, is why they don't publish my letters unless I am praising the Pope!   So here's the latest one:      
"I can assure "Anglican leaders" that the Church of England will NOT be dead in 20 years (Article, July 13): we have Christ's own promise; hopefully, though, many of those "Anglican leaders" will be - and we might then have younger, more dynamic bishops (including women) who will fight tenaciously for the Church Militant here on Earth."

I think of the pathetic way the Archbishop of Canterbury appeared on a platform with the Archbishop of Westminster and did not point out that, just at the Church of Rome welcomes Anglicans, so the Church of England welcomes EVERYBODY.   Now I feel better.

Blessed John Paul II

In January 1979 my wife and I visited Rome.   Inevitably, one highlight  was to be attendance at the Pope’s weekly General Audience in the Paul VI Audience Hall - a huge building that can hold over 6,000 people.   Like any other theatre it has a stage at one end and the usual procedure is for the Pope to enter from one side and take his place on the centre-stage throne.   To get the best seats you must  arrive hours before His Holiness: alas, we didn’t and found ourselves at the very back of the hall with the stage almost out of sight in the far distance.   Then there was a sudden commotion and the great door on which I was leaning swung open - and there was the Pope!   Because he was “new to the job” (he had only been elected three months before) he had decided on a whim to break with protocol and enter the Hall through the back door - and thus I was the first person he saw: he made straight for me and shook my hand!   I am not one of his flock but it was a very moving - yet puzzling - encounter.   Although it was the Pope’s face I was looking at, I had the feeling that the eyes looking at me were those of Jesus Himself - and He was pleading.   Pleading?   Later I saw it as a “let me out!” cry: here He was, trapped in all the ceremonial of the Church of Rome when He wanted to be out among His people.   Oh, well: we Anglicans are not the only Christians to have funny notions from time to time.   I still cherish that moment.

Easter 2011

What an Easter it has been, spiritually and meteorologically!   On Good Friday we had an ecumenical Stations of the Cross, conducted to great approval by the Anglican vicar; on Saturday we broke our Lenten fasts; on Sunday we had a magnificent service of Holy Communion; and today we had a picnic (in the churchyard, almost!) at East Garston, near Lambourn.   In the churchyard itself was the most wonderful Easter Garden I have ever seen.   I don't deserve such happiness.........

Cuts

It is right that Christians (and others) should 'look after' our weaker brethren - helping lame dogs over styles and that sort of thing - but we should do it with our own resources, NOT WITH BORROWED MONEY.   That's the reason our national finances are in the mess they are today.   So no-one should say "Not us!" - we must all play our part to live within our national income - it is only legitimate to question how and when the cuts must fall.

The Head of the Church

Recently I came across this in a Church magazine, celebrating a 200-years anniversary: "Briefly, Baptists believe that Christ, not the Monarch, is head of the Church".   I nearly choked on my cornflakes, then penned this reply: "I was startled by this explanation - as if Anglicans think otherwise: of course we don't!   Loyal monarchists think that the Queen is "head" of everything that "belongs" to our country, as custodian, but the true head of the Church of England is Jesus.   When King George VI died a clever non-Anglican remarked to a friend "I hear that the head of your Church died?" which earned the quick responses "Yes, but He rose again on the third day". That's us.  God bless you all - including Baptists in your anniversary year."   Then the cornflakes tasted even better...

The Europa School Diary

Each year, the European Commission publishes a European diary for schoolchildren throughout the European Union.   Three millions copies of the 2010-2011 version of this diary, distributed to schools free at the request of teachers, have been issued.  The current version does not mention any Christian feasts, but does give the dates of Islamic, Sikh, Hindu and Chinese feast days.
In a recent legal review by the High Court, Lord Justice Munby and Mr Justice Beatson are reported to have said that there is no place in British law for Christian beliefs: I applaud them for drawing attention to the way our politicians have failed us.   It is the job of politicians to ensure that our laws reflect our Christian heritage; the job of the Judges it to apply the law, not make it.
Grrr-rr-r.

Songs of Praise

An interesting programme this afternoon, full of wartime memories.   This naturally appealed to an old fogey like me: I recall those National Days of Prayer when on several occasions the King called the Nation to prayer.   I realise it's pure coincidence, but every time it was followed by a miracle of deliverance (as at Dunkirk, to which I have referred before).   I don't share Gordon Brown's politics but I warm to him when I read "We must not claim that God is on our side, but we have to hope that we are on His side".

Repatriation

Today the bodies of five service men who died in Afghanistan were brought home.   The giant Hercules aircraft flew low over Wootton Bassett to announce its arrival  then went on to land at RAF Lyneham.   With due ceremony the five coffins were taken from the plane to the Chapel where families and friends were waiting to pay their last respects.   Each family is given as long as it wishes then again with great dignity the coffins are taken to the waiting hearses.   The sad procession, five hearses, illuminated inside, coffins draped with the Union Flag, an empty hearse in case of a breakdown, and its police escort, makes it way to Wootton Basset where the first of many tributes are paid, then along the M4, A417 and A420 to the Wiltshire Police Headquarters on the outskirts of Swindon.
There, escort duties are taken over by Thames Valley Police and the cortege continues its journey.  All along the A420 people gather in groups large and small to pay their respects.   The main “vigil points” are - where the B4000 crosses the main road; at the Defence Academy in Shrivenham; and at the Folly Hill Lay-by - but all along the route people gather and traffic stops at the cortege approaches.   The “final salute” is taken outside  St Anthony of Padua Roman Catholic Church at the entrance to the John Radcliffe Hospital.
Our prayers go with them : may they rest in peace.

Happy Sunday!

It was wet and cold, a neighbour said “What a miserable day!” and I said “It’s only as miserable as you allow it!”.   That cheered her up; her lovely daughter smiled and that brightened everything.   In the evening my wife called “Dinner’s ready!”; when we are alone we eat in the kitchen, me facing the digital clock.   It read 19.39 and I thought “The war!”.   For my  father,  George Robey was terribly funny - “The year war broke out my Missus said to me ‘What are you going to do about it?’”  I thought it was ridiculous.   Then it was 19.40 - Dunkirk!   Whatever people say, there is no question but that God intervened on our behalf.   He stilled the waters as He did on Galilee, thousands of our troops were saved and the Nazi invasion of our islands was averted.   Carol’s father was given up for dead but one of his men detected a heartbeat, dragged him to the boats and got him back home.   Alas, he died a war hero at Anzio a few years later.   And the clock ticked on - soon it was 19.43 and I got a letter from the King - “Brian old chap I need you” and off I went to join the RAF.   I wanted to be a spitfire pilot and shoot down hundreds of German planes but it was not to be and I became a radar mechanic instead - but in a way that was better because without radar we would not have won the war.   Then 19.44 and I was in Burma...then 19.45 and I was at sea with the fleet for the invasion of Malaya.  Suddenly it was called off: Japan had surrendered.   Those atomic bombs had taken hundreds of lives but we thought that thousands - even millions - had been saved.   Was there an equation there somewhere.   It’s a pity that after 19.59 the clock goes to 20.00 - so much happened in 19.60 onwards....but that’s another story!

Sunday Bl***** Sunday

"Blessed" in case you were wondering.   I enjoy Sundays: usually the Parish Church first as I like Holy Communion once a week but we don't have it on the first Sunday so I go with my wife to her Roman Catholic service - where, likewise, I cannot receive it - but I like the people.   I was challenged recently - "You don't have to go to church to be a Christian" and I agreed.   But Christians are a family and it's nice to have family gatherings sometimes.   We say "this is My body" and straight away "This is My blood" but it wasn't really like that.   He took bread, then WHEN SUPPER WAS ENDED He took the wine - so there was a meal in between.   I often picture them sitting there and wonder what they ate: lamb stew, perhaps, or fish?   And were they chatty or did they eat in silence?  Jokes?   Anyway, it was a family get-together and it's not a bad idea if we imitate it.

Fill this land with the Father's glory

Brilliant Songs of Praise on BBC1 tonight - mostly hymns, not too much talk.   Surprising how "All things bright and beautiful" is popular for Christenings, Weddings, and Funerals - my wife says it's because it's the only hymn everyone knows!.

Islam

As a Christian I cannot argue with Baroness Warsi when she asks me to love Muslims - because that is my Christian duty.   Christianity, after all, is the religion of  LOVE.   But I cannot help noticing that all over the world Christians are being PERSECUTED - not just criticised at dinner tables - and I wish Muslims would "take up arms against a sea of troubles and, by opposing, end them".

Happiness

Had to go to the Great Western Hospital today to have my new earphone fitted - this caught my eye as I waited:

Smiling is infectious,
You catch it like the flu,
When someone smiled at me today,
I started smiling too.
I passed around the corner,
and someone saw my grin,
When he smiled I realized,
I'd passed it on to him .

I thought about that smile,
Then I realized its worth,
A single smile just like mine,
Could travel round the earth.
So if you feel a smile begin,
Don't leave it undetected -
Let's start an epidemic quick
And get the world infected!

Appropriate for a hospital?  

The Ordinariate

For years now the Church of England and the Church of Rome have been seeking grounds for union between what Anglicans see as the two main branches of the Catholic church.   Unfortunately, the two churches had quite different views on "union". For the Church of England it meant something like the union between England and Scotland, two quite separate identities but with the same "head"; but to Rome it meant everyone becoming Roman Catholic.   The Pope's latest initiative is to be welcomed, therefore, if only because at last the Vatican has "come clean".   There is not, and never has been, any chance of the sort of union for which Anglicans had prayed  and laboured.   Pope John Paul II tried to make that clear when he visited Ireland but no-one noticed - "There can be no reconciliation unless the Church of England accepts the doctrine of transubstantiation"........All is not lost, however: God moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform" !
This is what I  - an Anglican - wrote years ago for my local Roman Catholic newsletter: "It takes an enormous leap of faith to look at a piece of bread and truly believe that it is really Jesus in disguise.   The Church of England exists for those who cannot make that leap of faith and will not pretend that they can.   When I attend the ecumenical services of Holy Communion at [an English parish where Anglicans and Roman Catholics had joint celebrations of the Eucharist], in no way do I renounce the doctrine of the Church of England: I do not worship the Host because to me it is a piece of bread.   Nor does [my wife, a Roman Catholic]  fall into apostasy: she renounces nothing of the doctrine of the Church of Rome and she worships the Host because to her it is no longer a piece of bread."   The union I have always envisaged is one where our two different viewpoints, comprehended by the Holy Spirit, are recognised.   I live in hope!