Long time no write

It has been brought to my attention that I have not blogged here for two months. Which means you have not heard about our pleasant wander round the British Museum, our visit to the Byzantium exhibition or our trip to see the photographs at the National Portrait Gallery.

Don't worry, I am well and keeping busy - I've simply been trying to take a break from this blog and my computer in general - however I am busy elsewhere on the web. Should try to write more here occasionally though!

Now on Easter holidays - however, I have a revision session tomorrow, so I should really go and get some sleep now!

Happy Easter!

Unfortunately I have been struck down by quite a bad cold, so have only been up to enjoy Easter day for a couple of hours. Fortunately H did point out that it was snowing this morning, so I was able to look out the window to see some large white flakes slowly circling down like feathers, and able to briefly see the white ground outside. Unfortunately my horrible condition - attached to tissues, sore throat, grating cough and musty head - meant that I was not able to make it to church this morning to celebrate the good news of Christ's resurrection. Fortunately I was able to make it to the Easter Vigil last night, which is surely one of the most moving and beautiful services in the liturgical year. I described the service in some detail last year, so will not give the complete outline of the ritual, but would still like to point out some of my observations.

It was darker and colder this year than last, and there was a fear the wind would make the Paschal fire unruly and make it hard to light the Paschal candle. This meant that the candle lighting ceremony took place this year at the back of the church - but what a picturesque scene!

First of all, the altar servers processed in silence to the back of the church. The priest then switched off all the lights, and other than the deep blue dusky glow coming in through the stained glass windows, the church was plunged into darkness.

We all stood, holding our white, waxy, virgin candles, facing the back of the church. I was in the front pew, therefore right at the back, so was able to see the full church, all worshippers facing the back wall, watching and waiting for the light of Christ. I was able to move into the aisle for some of this part, and it was nice to see children gradually making their way into the aisle as well, to see and take part in this special ritual.

The fire was lit, and the three men dressed in white gathered round the fire, the orange glow lighting up the wall and their white gowns. Their shadows flickered as they gazed at the fire, the priest intoning the words of blessing as he marked the paschal candle. Once again, the symbolism and the imagery reminded me of Renaissance art. I felt as if I had been transported back in time, to a time when the earliest Christians would have met to mark Easter. Then the priest held the candle high, sang out, and we sang our response. Slowly, the altar servers, priest and paschal candle processed down the aisle, as our candles were lit from the holy Easter light. Eventually the priest reached the sanctuary steps, turned and faced the congregation, and, almost at the same time, the church was suddenly filled with the light from all the candles. Beautiful.

As with last year, the first three or four readings were read by candle light. Then the bells were rung with fierce devotion, the lights were switched on, and we joined in the first Gloria since Lent, singing loudly and joyfully.

It was lovely to share once again in the celebrations of six people joining the Church, perhaps even more so since I now understand the symbolism more having studied the Sacraments more since last year. And after the service, we joined in the celebrations by eating with them in the church hall, before I headed home for duck and roast potatoes.

So I didn't feel too bad about missing out on church this morning, since last night had been so special, and the church so beautiful.

Right. This has taken me some time to write! And The Passion will be on in 15 minutes ... Happy Easter everyone!

Good Friday

It's the little details that you notice. The flowery mug on the ground by the priest's chair. The way so many people venerating the cross kiss the nail; the tenderness with which the altar servers wipe the spot kissed. The parents with babes in arms that proffer their young one towards the cross to learn the action. The garment that is put round the priest when he goes to fetch the Host from its resting place in the side chapel. The care with which he carries the ciborium, hidden under the embroidered garment. The plainness of the sanctuary, the cream sandstone merging into the creamy altar, the shrouded statues and icons hidden in the whiteness of the walls. The sombre pale silk inside the open tabernacle, the golden doors wide open to reveal its emptiness and hide the gaudiness of the screen. So still, so quiet, as we all exit to the darkening sky, remembering that God is dead. And we have killed him ...

Home, to watch The Passion, and rethink it all again. And to look forward to the Easter Vigil ...

A lovely day!

We had a lovely Easter liturgy in school today. In fact, a very lovely day all day; I got my first ever Easter card from a pupil, my year 10s worked harder than I've seen them in ages, I watched someone else teach a lovely lesson, and my Year 9s were okay. Then I rearranged my classroom - back to rows, shame, I liked the islands of desks - and then we had a lovely liturgy in the afternoon. Very moving. And they place Morricone, which was very moving, and the choir was great. So, a lovely, lovely way to enter the Easter Triduum!

Easter Bank Holiday Monday

A quiet day ... we went to B&Q and had an ice cream in the sun.

Watched "The Lady in the Lake" this evening. A bit strange ... I imagine if you'd gone to the cinema expecting a good horror film you'd have been disappointing! Quite interesting, though.

Happy Easter!

A nice early start this morning to go to church ... I was doing one of the readings, and got to carry up the Gospel. Once again, lovely to see the church looking so beautiful in the daylight!

We decided not to go to Belfast. Instead, this afternoon, we went for a drive down to see the Thames Barrier. It's the first time I've seen them in real life - that is, not on a documentary drama about flooding. They remind me of something out of Doctor Who, giant silver snails. Lots of questions - what are the made of? Do they feel padded to the touch? (Probably not, but they look like it!) How do people get between each barrier? Are there underground tunnels between them? How do they work? Are there big barriers on wheels that turn round when necessary? I've added a link the relevant website so we can try and find out some of the answers ...!

It's been a relaxing evening. I've spoken to my parents, grandparents, sister and long time friend. I've watched Doctor Who and Ugly Betty, my two favourite TV programmes at the moment. At the moment The Passion of the Christ is on, so I'm catching up with my blog.

Happy Easter everyone!

Saturday Vigil

Another beautiful service, full of symbolism. Fire, light, water, oil, white robes ... All come together to celebrate new life.

Before I go any further though - Happy Birthday to my sister! She's getting on a bit, poor thing, but is having a lovely weekend away ... which presumably explains why I haven't been able to get through to her today! Hope she's having a great day.

Anyway. Back to church ...

We went straight to the Garden for the opening of the service. A large crowd had already gathered by the time I arrived, even though there was still some time before the service began. Candles were handed out, and I smiled as I watched the children jumping up, holding their candles high in the air, shouting "I'm the highest! I'm the highest!" I waited for them to start using them as swords, which is what the long, thin candles with their circular hand guard reminded me of, and, sure enough, eventually two boys began a play fight ... but they were quickly stopped by their mother, with a firm "Don't do that, you might break them."

Eventually the priest, in his white robes, appeared, preceded by all the altar servers, also all in white. The children returned to their parents, the priest outlined what would be happening, and the service began.

The fire was lit, and the blessing said over it. The new Paschal Candle, tall, white, with the red top, was brought forward. The priest said a few words, blessing the candle, remembering the Alpha and the Omega, marking the sign of the cross and the five wounds in the wax. Then he said another prayer, this time pushing the special incense sticks into the candle. Then the Paschal Candle was lit ... the light of Christ has come into the world!

We processed back into the church, clutching our candles ... the church was still in darkness, we were still waiting for the light of Christ, but what a transformation had taken place since the bleakness, the emptiness of Good Friday. In between the Stations of the Cross were wreathes of yellow and white flowers, and the Sanctuary was full of flowers. The three empty crosses were no longer standing on the rocky hill of Golgotha ... instead, they had been transformed into the Garden which held Joseph of Arimethea's tomb, where Jesus' body had been laid, a garden full of blossoms, chicks, and a small figure holding the pearl of great price.

We took our places in darkness, then the priest's voice could be heard: this is the light of Christ! We sang back, Alleluia. At the back of the church, a light was beginning to dawn ... candles were lit from the Paschal candle, and this light was passed on, and on, and on, until the church flickered with hundred of tiny flames. Take my message, and spread it throughout the world ... this little light of mine, I'm going to let it shine ...

Eventually, all our candles were lit, and the priest and altar servers were at the front of the church. The Paschal Candle was plunged in the water in the font, a prayer said. The readings began ... we remembered the creation ... In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth ... there was darkness ... God said, Let there be light! and there was light ... we moved on to Exodus ... the Israelites escaping from the Egyptians through the parted waters of the Red Sea ... Isaiah, Come to the waters ... without money, without price ... all who are thirsty, come to the waters ... The bells rang, and at that sign, the lights came on, the candles in the Sanctuary were lit, and we were in darkness no longer. Hope spreads, our hearts rise. The readings moved from light to water, the next symbol in the Mass ... Romans, then the Gospel from Luke: Why do you look for the living among the dead? And so, Christ is risen! He is risen indeed!

There were three adults baptised tonight, and another three confirmed as members of the Church. This part of the service always reminds me of when I joined the Church. It is very moving and symbolic. The three catechumens went forward, with their godparents. One by one they were asked, Do you renounce Satan, and all his works? Do you believe in God the Father, the Son, the Holy Spirit? Then each was anointed with oil, the symbol of the Holy Spirit, anointed with a prayer for strength. Next, each went forward, tipping their head over the font, which was next to the Paschal Candle. Three times, using a shell, a reminder, perhaps, of John the Baptist baptising in the river, the priest poured the water over their heads. I baptise you in the name of the Father ... and the Son ... and the Holy Spirit. The three catechumens went back to their places, and their godparents unfurled beautiful white silk scarves, and spread them over the shoulders of their godchild. Keep this pure until you meet the Lord in heaven ... Finally, each was given a candle, lit from the Paschal Candle.

The three candidates were then able to go forward, to make their promises, to be anointed, to receive their candle. Then we all remade our baptismal promises.

We had moved from the symbolism of light to that of water. Jesus reveals the truth, and cleanses us from sin.

The offerings were made, the Eucharistic prayers said, the long liturgy of prayers to the saints sung, communion received, prayers made ... Go in peace to love and serve the Lord, Alleluia, Alleluia. Thanks be to God. Alleluia, Alleluia.

Another service full of symbolism, hope, love and peace.

Happy Easter everyone!

Good Friday

I've just arrived back from the Good Friday service. I understand how so many artists, writers, musicians, creative people can have been inspired over the years by the Catholic Church. There is so much symbolism, so much mystery, so many moving aspects to the service.

Entering the church is haunting. So plain, so silent, people quietly moving to their places, shuffling along rows to let as many people in as possible. No flowers, no candles, no incense, no holy water. The statues, from the large crucifix on the wall to the little statues of Mary and Joseph that sit before the rows of (now extinguished) votive candles, are all covered in white muslin: Jesus enters Golgotha alone, without support, as he faces his final hour. The feeling of emptiness is completed by the open tabernacle ... empty now, the sanctuary lamp without its familiar warm red glow, we are reminded that God is dead.

The Mass began yesterday, during the Lord's Supper, the Maundy Thursday service, where feet were washed and bread and wine broken and blessed. So today, there is no bell, no processional hymn; the priest and altar servers walk slowly, solemnly, quietly in to their places, only pausing as the priest prostrates himself at the foot of the altar. The congregation kneels in memory of the events of that day, so many years ago now.

And then the Passion is read. The priest takes the role of Jesus; two women act as the narrator and as all the other individual speakers ... Pilate, Peter, the woman in the courtyard. We are the crowd, calling out for Jesus to be crucified: we have no king but Caesar. And so we are implicit in the crucifixion of Christ, our Lord. Our guilt is complete. But so will our redemption be ... We get to the point in the reading where Jesus cries out "It is accomplished!" The church goes silent. The priest kneels, the congregation follows suit. A long pause, a time of prayer, of reflection. Then we stand again, to remember that the story did not end there. We finish as the body is laid in the tomb.

The main aspect of this 3pm service is the Veneration of the Cross: a large wooden cross, with a marble looking statue of Jesus on it, held up by the altar servers so the congregation could kiss the feet of Jesus. The congregation, solemnly processing towards the crucifix, of every age, race, gender and socio-economic background, mingling together in shared adoration of Jesus. At one point, the Irish priest was sitting down, resplendent in red robes, and the African altar server bent towards him to ask him something, their two faces looking towards the edge of the church, side by side. Very picturesque. I could imagine a Rembrandt ...

At the end of the service, the final image is of the altar, a plain, cream stone table, with three crosses standing underneath it, surrounded by rocks on a baize, and the crucifix with Jesus, reclining on two purple cushions behind. On the altar is the silver ciborium, and thus, perhaps, a circle is complete.

We leave the church in silence: no holy water today, only reflections to carry with us. Outside, the world seems quieter. As I walk, steadily, surely, more slowly than usual, back home, I reflect on the crowd who had watched the crucifixion. They had had their entertainment, they had seen things they had not expected ... now they walked away, along the dusty road, sun shining as it is today, leaving Jesus behind, hanging there on the cross, only a few followers daring to stay, to wait, to take his body and tenderly prepare it for burial. The rest of us, we walked away, back to resume our busy lives ...

Perhaps to be inspired to draw, to write, to paint, to compose, to sing, to create.