He is the potter...

Every so often someone in this pandemic period talks about "hope". That's what we all want, that's what we are all looking for.  The virtue of hope is far deeper than wishful thinking - "I hope I pass my exams despite not working" - or just wanting - "I hope I get what I want for Christmas".  Hope is what enables us to move into the future. It reminds us that we are going somewhere, that we are not on that endless treadmill. To be hope-less is crushing, because we then cannot see a way out, we cannot see a future.

The 7 and 8 year olds yesterday making their First Reconciliation were in hope that their sins would be forgiven, even if their understanding of that would not be the same as an adult's. Christian hope is rooted in Jesus, who shows us that God came among us to save us, suffered, died and rose again, and now lives in glory. 

So this season of Advent may righfully be called the season of hope. On this first Sunday the Church reminds us of our journey to Christmas, that Jesus has indeed come. It reminds us that we journey towards the Second Coming, that we are headed somewhere. And meanwhile the first reading in Mass today reminds us that we are just the clay and God is the potter. We are not in charge of everything - a tiny virus can knock us right off our superior perch, make us fly off the potter's wheel. We need the potter to pick us up in his strong and caring hands and put us back on the wheel. Then he can continue to mould us into... only he knows what. 

Why? Because he is our Father, he is the potter, we are the clay. Have a good Advent!  

Van Gogh finds out

And now... a little scene from 'Doctor Who'.  I can still remember watching the first episodes when I was in St Peter's Junior School.  It quickly became essential viewing among the lads especially. I watched it off and on over the years, sometimes more off than on!  I did like David Tennant's portrayal  (number 10), but didn't particularly pay much attention to Matt Smith (11), who followed him. 

However, I remember seeing in the paper that in one episode Matt Smith was to meet Vincent van Gogh in the nineteenth century, so I decided to watch, and was genuinely touched by a scene when the Doctor brings Van Gogh into the present day via the Tardis. As you probably know, van Gogh struggled to sell a single painting in his lifetime. "He was considered a madman and a failure", as Wikipedia reminds us.   What torment must have led to his suicide at age 37.  So the Doctor takes him to the Musee d'Orsay in Paris, to visit the van Gogh exhibition there And that's the scene in this little 4 minute sequence that I recently came across after 10 years or so. I can do without the music, but I think it hits the spot. Enjoy. 

ps watch out for the little sequence filmed, I think, on the steps inside our Museum in town.

      

Tears of Christ

 My reflection today comes from a man who is a seminarian at my former seminary in Rome, the Beda. It is about today's Gospel, and each day he uses a work of art to illustrate the gospel. 

"Jesus Himself was not immune to tears. In today’s Gospel reading we read that He shed tears. In John 11:35 we also read about Jesus weeping, at the tomb of his good friend Lazarus. Jesus was fully divine, and also fully human. So he felt pain, grief and sadness. When we shed tears, we share in the tears of Christ. 

We like to think of Jesus as always being super-confident and joyfully calm in any storm that may have come His way. But at times He did shed tears. His tears give us a glimpse into how God views our own suffering and pains. He understands them! Jesus wept for Lazarus as though he was simply a very close friend He had lost. But in our reading today, He wept for another reason: the tragedy of our sin. He simply wept that He had spent His last years proclaiming the Word of his Father, and so few people listened to Him or understood Him. As He could now see Jerusalem, as we read in our Gospel passage, he was probably also crying over his coming fate that would await him in the city.

In our watercolour on paper by James Tissot we see Jesus weeping outside Jerusalem. The people around Him probably didn’t know why He wept. For Him too, St Teresa of Avila’s words would have resonated: ‘tears water the soul, as rain waters the garden’…"

November with Verdi

I haven't yet put on here anything for November.  On Saturday BBC2 broadcast a performance of Mozart's "Requiem". That made me think of another great setting of the Requiem Mass - that of Verdi. I remember buying it on LPs in university, lashing out on an expensive Karajan recording. So I came across this later live recording, also by Karajan. The soloists, a stellar line-up as they say, includes Anna Tomova-Sintow, Agnes Baltsa, Joe Carreras and Jose van Dam. Orchestra is the Vienna State Opera.  This is the "Larimosa", the final part of the Sequence from the Requiem Mass. Relax, listen, remember, and maybe pray... 

 

Good News and Judas Trees

So here we are again, again...  Out of our local Welsh lockdown, and so back to public Masses. As Fr Andy is away for a few days, I'm celebrating the weekday Masses this week. All is well, and, again, it's good to see the weekday Mass "regulars" once more.  News this week of course on the virus front. There are all kinds of reservations, but it is surely great news, and we are all in need of that, aren't we?

New this year is a sort of Tree of Memories outside in the grounds of St Brigid's. Following our Mass of Memories on Saturday, the names of people who we are remembering have been written on hearts which are then hung on the branches of  a small tree.  Amazingly, I have always been told it's a Judas tree, but I just discovered this is also known as as the love tree - how appropriate is that!  Here's a picture of one...

 

 

The wise and the foolish

In this Sunday's Gospel we hear about the wise and foolish bridesmaids or virgins or maidens. I found pictures of sculptures on the entrance portal of the cathedral at Erfurt in central Germany.  Here they are, the wise on the one side, heads held high, jars of oil in their hands. More fascinating are the foolish. Take a look at their images, some dozing and one yawning and stretching even.  Wonderful.

 

 

Incidentally, I discovered that the original Erfurt cathedral was built by St Boniface way back in the 8th century.  Also, it turns out that Martin Luther went to the university at Erfurt and was ordained as a Catholic priest, a member of the Augustinian Order here in the cathedral on 3rd April 1507.

 

Redemption Song

 

I expect most have heard of the Kanneh-Masons by now - the amazingly talented family of musicians from Nottingham.   They have an album out this month of them playing as a family. I caught this taster, and I think it's absolutely charming. Called "Redemption Song" it's arranged by cellist Sheku, perhaps the best-known of the family, who got wide acclaim for his playing at a royal occasion.

This month we remember the Holy Souls, and so something light and beautiful seemed just right - enjoy!

God and Man At Table

 

Welcome to the Feast of All Saints, the beginning of the month of November.  And what a beautiful way to begin the month as we celebrate all of those who are even now with the Lord, beholding Him as He really is!  Tomorrow we move on to All Souls, or the Commemoration of the Faithful Departed, to give it its proper name.

Well, things atre getting complicated aren't they regarding lockdowns and all that. Here in Wales our 17 days end next weekend, but England is about to enter their month. Will Wales join them? Who knows. Health is a devolved issue, so....

The song is one I sang at Mass on Saturday evening, although with a "renewed chorus" - "In Christ there is a table set for all" - more PC!  The song is a description of the Feast of the Lamb from the First Reading at today's Mass. It's a dramatic reading, so we can forgive the extra drama in the last verse here...

What's Goin' On?

So here we are again - back in lockdown.  This time it was made quite clear by the Welsh Government that it includes places of worship, so Mass on Friday  - a Requiem as it happened - was our last for a few weeks. Since Saturday we have been back on live-stream Masses only. 

Celebrating this morning, I felt particularly aware of the echo of my voice, amplified for the benefit of the microphones, but projected into an empty space, devoid of the people for whom it exists.  So I have to populate the space with the unseen, those who have tuned in down the phonelines and the fibre and their desktops, laptops, tablets and phones.  It's not like doing radio broadcasts where the unseen is the normal, and you're surrounded in the studio by editors, producers and Eleri Sion, the presenter on Radio Wales. Here we are in uncharted territory, as they say. 

And, while I'm about it. how weird I find celebrating Mass with a church full of masked parishioners, as we have been doing recently until Friday. We read so much into one another's faces, don't we. Just to see the eyes I find dehumanising. I've mistaken people or confused one with another more than once. 

This year has been such a strange world, with few signposts to help us navigate. I find myself asking what's going on, what's going on in the "big picture". What changes are taking place deep down in our culture, our world. Or will everything be the same when, if, it is all over? 

 I'm reminded of one of my all-time favourite albums, Marvin Gaye's "What's Goin' On?" It will be 50 years old next year, but I return to it every so often. For some, Marvin Gaye is most famous for the single "I Heard It Through the Grapevine", but it's really his albums, especially this one and "Let's Get It On" from the early 70's that mark him out as one of the greats. Definitely one of my desert island discs. here he is performing the first two tracks of "What's Going On" live.

 

The Gospel in song

I found this beautiful song, "Little Things with Great Love", based on Sunday's Gospel, on the wonderful Pilgrim's Path site. I hope to quote it at Mass this Sunday.   

These are the words, by Audrey Assad and others

In the garden of our Saviour no flower grows unseen
His kindness rains like water on every humble seed
No simple act of mercy escapes His watchful eye
For there is One who loves me His hand is over mine

In the kingdom of the heavens no suffering is unknown
Each tear that falls is holy, each breaking heart a throne
There is a song of beauty in every weeping eye
For there is One who loves me His heart, it breaks with mine

O the deeds forgotten, O the works unseen
Every drink of water flowing graciously
Every tender mercy You’re making glorious
This You have asked of us:
Do little things with great love
Little things with great love

At the table of our Saviour, no mouth will go unfed
And His children in the shadows stream in and raise their heads
O give us ears to hear them, and give us eyes that see
For there is One who loves them. I am His hands and feet

21st October 1966

At 9.15 the tip slid down the hillside and onto the village of Aberfan. 116 children and 28 adults lost their lives. The photo captures the devastation of Pantglas School. 

I was 13 in form 2 (year 8 in present terms) at St Illtyd's school.  I remember someone interrupting our lesson to come and tell us what had happened. My family had some phone calls from friends living in distant parts, hoping we were OK. People rushed up to see if they could help. 

Aberfan was truly one of those events where you can remember where you were. Huge results came from this terrible disaster in terms of the clearance of many, many tips across the Valleys. But at what a price?

The name Aberfan is imprinted on our memories and hearts. Say a prayer today for the victims and for our care for the environment and for one another.

 

2 Teresas for the price of one

I have a particular devotion to St Teresa of Avila, who has played a part in my vocation story. So I was looking forward to celebrating her feast day this week on Tuesday the 15th October.  But I don't know what happened in my brain as I woke up on Tuesday - which was the 13th, not the 15th.

I announced to Fr Andy at breakfast that while he said Mass at Christ the King at 9.30, I would do likewise back at base at St Brigid's. And I would pay for us to have the very nice fish and chips from Fintan's in Llanishen.  And that we would have hake, please.

As I started Mass at 9.30 I heard the phone ring, but let it go as I had already started. It was - of course - Andy calling to point out that I had the wrong day!   Anyway later as I tucked into my hake 'n' chips, Andy spilled the beans. Wrong day, Matthew!

So, we celebrated St Teresa of Avila twice this week. And, you know I'm sure I heard some polite laughter coming from heaven, where I'm sure Teresa enjoyed the double honour!

Feelgood from 1967

Lockdown Cardiff

The reality of local lockdowns such as the one affecting Cardiff and much of South Wales gets suddenly highlighted when it bears down on something affecting ourselves. 

During the week I had to say no to a visit from my sister who lives in Hampshire, with her husband and one of my nephews. An improvised Zoom this evening was lovely - but it's not the same, is it? 

Then, I have been coordinating plans from now until Christmas to celebrate First Confessions postponed from March, our annual November Mass of Memories for the deceased, and about 12 baptisms, that have also built up since March. One of the Baptism families told me that they had been looking forward to one of the godparents coming from Ireland... but now it isn't possible.  Or is it?  We don't know...

 

Rosary for October

 

Yesterday evening I gave a little talk about Our Lady, the first of a series leading into the month of the Holy Rosary.  There is a session at 7.30pm each evenng from yesterday, and details are on the poster above.  The talks are given mostly by priests our diocese, including our own Fr Andy, and they are on the Cathedral's Facebook site as mentioned in the poster. . The whole project is the brainchld of one of our parishioners - great to see such initiatives!

Initiating the Initiations

 A very important part of parish life is our celebration of the Sacraments of I nitiation - Baptism, Confirmation and the Eucharist.  We'll leave Confimation fo rthe moment. as that involves the Bishop - or does usually!   Baptisms and First Communions ahev been on hold since lockdown in March, and here in our 3 Churches we are feeling it's time to catch up. There are about a dozen or more Baptisms in the queue and we have of course our annual First Confessions and Communions too - usually about 40.

So we now have to try and accommodate all these, and within the Covid restrictions. Saturday mornings are going to become busier!  So say a little prayer as we try to juggle dates and times to try and get as much done before Christmas as possible.

Path to Allegri

 I think I recommended "New Pilgrim Path" before. Coming from Ireland, it's a resource site for religious poetry, history and music.  Very well put together, it's a great place to browse if you have a moment. A good feature is that many of the ingredients are constantly being updated or changed, like "Poem of the Week"   Click here to visit it.

On the site at the moment is a stunning performance of the famous "Miserere" by Allegri, originally broadcast on TV. It is sung by the Sixteen under Harry Christopher.  If you have never heard it, please do. If you know it, take time to enjoy.

 

 

"The Repair House"

 

This is now two TV reviews in a  row - both from BBC 1.  After the excellent new "Us" I'd like to say how much I Iike the recently discovered (for me) "Repair Shop".  Idea is simple - people bring items old, damaged, worn out, but with a personal story behind them, for a team of experts to repair and restore.

This evening they ranged from bagpipes from WWI belonging to someone's grandfather, to a 17th century dining chair damaged apparently beyond repair, most recently by a teething puppy, to a crown from an Urdd Eisteddfod won by someone's grandmother when a teenager.  A bit like "Houses Under the Hammer" (yes, sad, I know) there is a beginning, middle and end. The item is brought in, its story told. Then we observe the expert doing the work, and then there is the "reveal" when the owner returns to claim the shiny, whole item anew. And this is often accompanied by tears as the owner is often taken back to a particular time, or a particular person, usually deceased. Excellent format, with so many ingredients hitting the target. Part of it is the joy of watching top people doing their job - I particularly like the clockwork guy (above) and Will the furniture man (below).

There's something maybe a little deeper going on as well. Is it too much to see these stories of restoration as capturing all our wishes for renewal - of ourselves, our world, our Church? The BBC blurb describes the programme as "an antidote to throwaway culture". Pope Francis asked for the Church to be a field hospital.  Do these women and men in their barn in Kent or Sussex hint at a God who can and will remake, repair, refresh us, if we put ourselves into His hands... 

 

"Us"

Just watched "Us" on TV, which got good previews, and in particular because Tom Hollander is in it. I think he's a great actor, ever since "Rev" through "The Night Manager" to the present.  Take the scene this evening, when having been told  by his wife that the marriage is over, he goes to take stuff to the dump, cries in his car and kicks a cardboard box to death.  Though I'm not sure about the whole premise that a couple would go on holiday with their son in these circumstances, I was glued...  Great stuff.

We all moan about what's on the telly, but in fact there is indeed great stuff out there. And even the perhaps not-so-good is good for relaxing with having my supper after an evening Mass or whatever. And hqving spent time in Spain, Italy and Canada/USA, we could do a lot worse!

Here are the stars of "Us" visiting the Louvre... 

 

Our own Tabghas

We are strange beings aren't we, us human beings? Take for example a visit to a consultant, like I did today.  Half of us wants to know what the situation is, the other half doesn't, in case the news is not so good.  And then, either way, afterwards we feel much better just to know the answer - whatever that answer was!  Ho hum. Well my news was basically good, I was given good advice, I was helped to understand what is going on, and had any questions answered. So Andy bought fish and chips for us for lunch...

Another thing that's interesting to me when going to see a specialist in the medical world, is to remember that some of the thoughts and feelings I have going there might well be similar to what people experience coming to see us clergy. And that might be especially true for me when folks come for a potentially difficult meeting to discuss a possible annulment. That nervousness, that uncertainty, sometimes hidden behind nonchalance - after 42 years of priesthood I am familiar with all of these and many other reactions in God's people. So why should it be any different when the shoe is on the other foot?  As always, we are all sisters and brothers in this life aren't we, all with our own joys and sorrows - and slight wobble as we await the expert's answer...

Below, one of my very favourite places of peace and beauty - the breaking of bread at Mass at Tabgha on the Sea of Galilee, site of the "breakfast on the beach", with Jesus lifting up Peter in the background.