Patrick died in mid-June, he was 88. As often as not he was here about, part of the furniture of our church.
Don’t you DARE give me a “fun” funeral or put me in a “kooky” coffin or I swear I’ll haunt you.
If you have been to Bethany, less than two miles from Jerusalem, you won’t have forgotten the stoniness of it or the light; a small village in New Testament times that was home to Lazarus and his sisters.
Here’s a sobering thought for Lent from St Cyprian of Carthage.
There was a lot of Church when I was a girl. Surprising, when you consider that both our parents were agnostic.
We are enjoined to practise “Prayer, fasting and almsgiving” in the forty days of Lent: a tough call for even 4 days, let alone 40.
It was never called “Herod the Monster” or “Follow That Star”; it was only ever “The Christmas Show”. Children thrive on rituals and routine, and ours were no exception.
Chances are, you will come across a Nativity this December. I stood aside for a crocodile of diminutive shepherds, a HOST of angels, three kings, Mary and Joseph, of course, and a quantity of woolly animals including a giraffe – and, surprisingly, Mickey Mouse.
“…Judge and accuse no one but yourself, and ever excuse others…”
Have you nodded off?