What I always find touching, amusing, and deeply human in this story is the place where the son is very hungry, reflecting that his father's servants are better off than he is and, out of self-interest, decides to return home. He rehearses his speech, in order to find favour with his father. He is not really contrite; he is hungry, and all his plans are born from this hunger in his stomach, not from feeling sorry..... And still his father takes him back..... I never cease to be amazed at the tremendous love and mercy of the Father, who takes back, forgives, and showers gifts on the younger son, knowing that the "contrition" isn't complete, that it has an agenda, that the son hasn't become "squeaky clean". He knows our weakness, and that when we turn back to Him, it is usually an incomplete turning back, but He still runs to meet us, and takes us into His arms.

7th February

Icelandic redwings have appeared in various gardens, and we saw them scrabbling amid leaves in sheltered areas amid the January snow. This was the first time some of us had seen these winter migrants. So they appear in the mandala for February 2010 as an historic record. Then appeared the Harlequin ladybirds from Europe, with their wonderful variety of colours and spots. They hibernate indoors and emerge when Spring is due. So they will appear on another mandala. Two days ago we saw the first bumblebee questing among the opening winter irises. No others were visible.

Sunday 14th

There are still few signs of Spring in Chester, although small birds sing when the sun shines. The frosty days have kept shrubs and flowers in tight bud. Only snowdrops are beginning to bloom, and the winter-flowering pink blossom trees. The winter-roses are still in tight bud.

We have not had a hard winter but a tiring one. The persistence of some winter complaints, the tiredness which comes with dark days and age, have meant that we have welcomed any periods of ‘quietness’ available. Visitors come, finding space and peace, and we welcome them. Some need the opportunity to talk, seeking better understanding of their own lives, wanting to know how to pray better. Prayer is such a personal matter, even liturgical prayer, and I sometimes have to ask the guest what she is really seeking or expecting. Quite often there is the sense that the awareness of God in daily life is certainly there but the sense of ‘connection’ is lacking. So much depends upon being ‘connected’ in a flowing relationship. Often it is a question of awakening to ‘see’ God in the ordinary things of life: like breaking bread or toast for breakfast and understanding the symbolism. It may have been easier for people to do this in less complex societies, but then the ‘habitual’ becomes invisible!

Sister Monica has been working very hard at recycled Easter cards. Some have been sold already. I made a few mandala cards - will they sell?

A frosty day has dawned, and loving greetings are transversing the globe in memory of Saint Valentine.

The Oblates’ Day went very well on Monday 15th February. I joined the group after Mass, and the topic of disintegration in society and the sense of a personal loss of faith arose while we sipped cups of coffee. It was a good discussion, and those of us who have struggled with this spoke about it, and the need to persevere during the season of loss. We must remember that we cannot simply renege on all we are and stand for. Others depend upon us. They may be struggling, too, to make sense of life and to find meaning in a crumbling and disintegrating society. We need to hold fast in the long days of desolation.

Shrove Tuesday followed, although we were not shriven. Our Novice asked to persevere in the monastic life in a short ceremony before Midday Office. In accepting her request on behalf of the Community, I reminded us all of our undertaking:

"Let us always remember that the entrance to life is narrow and not be dismayed by this. We are assured that as we progress in the monastic life and in faith, our hearts will acquire a greater capacity for love. We shall, therefore, hasten to do God’s will, with an increasing sense of joy. The testimony of the heart, despite periodic misgivings, will encourages us to persevere when the going gets hard and the way obscure."

We had pancakes at supper which required chisels and saws to break them up! We were all amused by the ‘sawing’ which went on at each table. The birds got the remnants the next morning.

Ash Wednesday began cold and frosty, the frost grey, like wood ash. Yet the ashes we received with the words "Remember, man, that you are dust and to dust you shall return" were black.

"RB (Rule of Saint Benedict) provides us with further help in so far that we live in a community and are able to support one another on some levels. RB stresses some aspects which are helpful, especially respect for silence during the times for lectio.

If we listen carefully to RB we realise that for the author the "Golden Age" of Christian Monasticism was already over.

"At all times the lifestyle of a monk ought to have a Lenten quality. However...." Benedict wanted to set realistic ascetic standards .... trying to do too much could end in some form of disaster, either physically or spiritually. After the first sentence Benedict "moves into a warm and uplifting exhortation to the community to try especially hard during this season to improve the quality of its spiritual life." (Kardong) It is to be both a communal and individual effort: we cannot do it alone. The community effort is to result in love and practical charity. However, we are urged, as individuals, to respond in a personal and spontaneous way. Appeal is made to our individual ‘inmost hearts’, and we are urged to "Look forward to holy Easter with (the) joy of spiritual desire." The word gaudium only appears twice in RB. We are to rejoice during the Lenten season, whilst traditional Catholic piety reserves this for the Easter season. The joy we experience comes from the Holy Spirit, given us at baptism. "Our waiting is joyful and hopeful, for we already experience what we await."

27th February

On Wednesday this week we had a supply priest to celebrate Mass. He is a delightful person, and gave us a memorable and amusing homily on the Prophet Jonah. The few pages of Jonah are really a satire, showing the conflict between our human concept of justice and due punishment, and the loving compassion of God.

Jonah was sent outside the boundaries of Israel to preach to the people of a pagan city-state. He did not want to go, so he boarded a ship going in the opposite direction. When a storm raged the sailors wanted to appease their gods, and tried to discover who had occasioned the impending disaster. Jonah was roused from sleep and took responsibility for his disobedience. He was thrown overboard and the storm was stilled. However, Jonah was not left to die. There is the wonderful account of him in the belly of a large fish, who spewed him up on another shore. God called him once again. Very reluctantly, he went to Nineveh and preached repentance. To his dismay, the people and animals fasted in sack-cloth and ashes, and the Lord pardoned them. Jonah was furious: he wanted them punished, and upbraided the Lord for his kindness and compassion....

Instead of concentrating on the three days in the belly of the ‘whale’, the priest spoke of the contrast between the Lord and our alternative god. He said a friend of his told his congregation that we all have to be watchful about the god we worship, made in our own image. The friend said that he knew his false god. Every morning, when he went to shave, having lathered his face, he would peer into the mirror and exclaim in horror: "O my God!" The point of the satire was that God wants to treat us with love and mercy, while human beings insist upon their own version of justice being meted out on others. Jesus may have quoted the satire to show that it was wrong of the Pharisees to be so hard-hearted about sinners. The Prophet Micah had also stated that what God wants is ‘love and not sacrifice’. Use your heart and not your judgmental reason.

That was not the end of the sermon. The priest then spoke of a Japanese artist who made marvellous vases and decorated them. Somebody knocked a masterpiece to the ground, where it shattered into six pieces. The artist put them together with great care, and to cover the cracks used the finest gold threads. The second version of the vase was more beautiful than it had been before it was broken. You must decide on the moral of this story for yourself ... I have always delighted in the beauty of apparent imperfection.

Happy Lent!