Beavering Away.

The door to the College of the Resurrection.
I have been here a lot......
looking at this in my spare moments.....
Expand this picture and see the name of the empty section!

Scaffolding is still up at Martin Luther House, my main place of study, but will be removed by Monday, we are informed. There were ructions there recently when we were informed that the Chapel was inaccessible due to it's having been hired out to a weightwatchers group, possibly taking St Pauls instruction against gluttony to the Corinthians a bit too far. I have also been in Mirfield, as part of this course that I am on, which is ceasing to exist with my graduation from it in 18 or so months, studying at the College of the Resurrection. As I have been in the library and not the beautiful grounds, here are pictures of what I have seen as opposed to what I would have you see if I was a tourist guide.

As your scribe scribes, the postman has just come, for the first time in a week. Those of you from outside these Isles may be unaware that we have suffered a postal strike this last week, and I am slightly surprised to see that only one letter has come as opposed to the many that I am expecting. My suspicion is that there is a backlog which may come tomorrow or, indeed, never. Somehow, however, Vanpoulles have managed to send their invoice, so we have that to be thankful for!

For the first time the recent bad weather has not caused any leaks into the Church, it seems that the roof is now finally watertight, although with the Autumn upon us we will need to be vigilent of leaves clogging up the drains and pools forming on the lead walkways on the roof, seeping in and interrupting Bishops during sermons, for that is the time which the waters usually choose. Happily, Fr Lee has rallied round with the loan of a green High Mass set for the season, as ours has finally had it's long, glorious day, although we are still in dire need of one of our own, just in case we have any seamstresses skilled in this art reading.

Autumn feels like a good time to study, to fill our minds with knowledge as the barns are filled with grain and the storecupboards are filled with preserves from the glut of fruit recently picked, before we have to live on our wits somewhat, shooting game and trapping rabbits to eat over the winter. Oh, I know, I go to Tesco like everyone else, but I rather wish that I did not have to! I tire of baby sweetcorn and lamb in the winter. Give me parsnips and Mutton, long stewed to bring out the flavour of the hillside. Give me Amarone and Claret, not the Vinho Verde and Winzergennossenschaft NeuWein of the summer and give me peace and space to enjoy the beauty of the world at the turning of the seasons.

It is our dedication festival a week on Sunday, when we will be having a High Mass in the morning. It is, for me, a time to reflect on the last hundred odd years of Catholic witness in the Church of England of St Hildas, Prestwich and to think how we best serve the community in which we live for the next hundred, building anew on the firm foundations of the past and consolidating our growth over the past few months. Pray for us as we look to the future and pray for us as we learn from the past. Pray for us, as we bear witness in the present.

THE HARVEST PRAYER
(Anonymous 17th Century Sermon)
Please be gentle with yourself and others.
We are all children of chance,
And none can say why some fields blossom
While others lay brown beneath the harvest sun.
Take hope that your season will come.
Share the joy of those whose season is at hand.
Care for those around you.
Look past your differences.
Their dreams are no less than yours,
Their choices in life no more easily made.
And give.
Give in any way you can.
Give in every way you can.
Give whatever you possess.
Give from your heart.
To give is to love.
To withhold is to wither.
Care less for the size of your harvest
than for how it is shared,
And your life will have meaning
And your heart will have peace.