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...