Crux fidelis

This crucifix is probably over 100 years old and belonged to Uncle B and Aunty M, who died within a week of each other. I think it belonged to Uncle B's mother. I daresay it gets some funny looks from the person scanning hand luggage at Glasgow Airport but I don't care.

If I'm in hotels overnight, the crucifix is kept on the bedside table. One of the most touching things that ever happened was when I stayed in a hotel in London for a two-day conference. I returned to the room in the early evening after the meeting to find the cleaner had placed a single flower at Our Lord's feet.

Good Friday nostalgia

I have a recollection about the Good Fridays of my childhood. It always seemed sunny, if a little fresh, and the daffodils were out. We'd go to the Liturgy for Good Friday and walk home and my mother cooked home-made fish and chips as our only full meal of the day (she made them in a chip-pan).

There always seemed to be either "King of Kings", "Ben Hur", "The Greatest Story Ever Told" or "The Robe" on the telly in the afternoon.



Canadian telly had all three "Spiderman" films on, one after the other.

Strange country.

Lapis revolutus est, Alleluia! Ab osteo monumenti, Alleluia! Alleluia!

Freed from death.

Joy to you and yours.

Grateful thanks - St Jude

Sleepless nights were initially due to jetlag but that was replaced by angst about a roof over our heads, missing money from a wire transfer, a place in schools and registration to start work, etc, etc. I started a novena to St Jude. By Day 8, it was all solved. I finished the novena. I had made a novena to St Jude before when my parents were abroad that my grandmother would survive her stroke until their return. She did. Cause and effect? Would it have happened anyway? Superstitious attempts to strongarm God through His saints or proper acts of devotion by the desperate?

As Martin Kelly said, it will all be fine. Thus far, so good.

More thoughts about novenas to follow. I would welcome yours.

How on earth can I thank the good saint?

Our Lady of Canada

Ora Pro Nobis!

In manus tuas, Domine

We fly to Canada for a year today. Please pray for us.

Blogging may be light for a while.

Mater amabilis

After Mass today the boys and I went to Our Lady's altar to offer a prayer of thanks for her ongoing prtection, and an entreaty to watch over us on our forthcoming Canadian adventure.

Every single place on the votive candle stand was taken with candles. I'm pleased that the parishioners love their Mother as well as their Mums. Since we couldn't light a candle we said a prayer for Mrs P and for my dear mother, God rest her soul.

Happy Mothering Sunday to any mothers who may read this.

Illustrating Liturgical Chaos

The illustrations in the New Missal look handsome. I hope similar illustrations will grace the versions for the use of the laity. I was given a Sunday Missal when I was confirmed in 1976. The illustrations are shown. They explain much. When a book carries the Imprimatur of ++John Carmel Heenan, it seems to an impressionable and pious young boy to validate all that is in the Missal. Is it any wonder, then, that my generation of anglophone Catholics thought the Mass was some sort of meal and not a sacrifice because we are shown like a bunch of demented diners around the kitchen table with the elements of Mass (and no identifiable priest)? Is it any wonder that liturgical chaos ensued when the incorrectly vested priest was shown in his multi-striped Magic Stole (TM)? Or that the non-Christian menorah is given equal prominence to the Paschal Candle (bizarrely held by a squatting punter)? Or that the strummers won favour over traditional chant (whether in Latin or the vernacular) when they are shown so prominently, a-croonin' over their guitars? These images have wormed their way into the consciousness of a generation of Catholics. It will take a heck of an effort to win back our Catholic culture when it was felt acceptable to fill Missals with images that look like T-shirt designs for Woodstock cooked up by Hans Kung on acid.