The air is not so full of motes, of atoms, as the Church is of mercies ......

we cannot speak, we cannot sigh a prayer to God,

without discovering that every breath, and the very air, are full of mercy. John Donne 1624 (Paraphrased)

8th October 2011

Another week is ending, with the waves lapping on the shore as the tide recedes. That is wishful thinking. Sometimes it feels as though the water is going right over my head. Anyway, the excessive heat has been blown away by strong winds, and the days and nights are cooler. There has even been some rain.

On Monday Colin continued emptying the lower pool in the garden and was absolutely thrilled when he discovered several generations of infant gold fish and newts in the silted depths. He netted them and lifted them into the top pond. I later examined the murky water and was convinced that I seen a fish. A frog landed on the exposed ledge and dived in. The next day I saw a plump little fish floating on the surface. It was perfectly formed, with the hint of gold gleaming on its upper scales. I placed it on a fallen leaf to see if any creature would eat it in the night. The next day only the perfect outer form remained. Some creature had literally sucked the dead fish dry.

On Wednesday our piano-tuner came for his last visit before retiring. Keith has been so gentle and kindly all the years we have been in Chester, using mechanical instruments to test the sounds the keys initiate. In my childhood, all that had to be done by ear. We gave him some photographs and cards as a memento. Later in the month he came - as a free gift - to finish renovating the felt under the keys of the Bechstein ‘piano we had ‘inherited’ from the Ursulines.

On Thursday Father J. brought an Indian student to meet me as she had shown an interest in religious life. She is doing a Master’s Course at the University of Chester, and some practical work at the Countess of Chester. She seems to be looking for a place in Mumbai where she could combine a life of prayer with practical medical work. Since she is a recent convert to Catholicism, with her father a Hindu and her mother a Muslim, this may be problematic. I was able to give her the contact website of the Grace and Compassion Sisters. Now I shall keep her in my prayer until the memory fades. God will remember.

Members of the Curzon Park Residents’ Association have been absolutely wonderful about donating piles of used newspaper for the pond lining. One very kind man, who normally works at recycling firm making new paper, asked how many we wanted. On the spur of the moment I said 300. These were duly left for us, carefully tied-up, outside the gate and found the next morning - in perfect condition. Other kindly people have brought their contributions, usually apologetic for the smallness of the bundle. This sort of kindness is truly heart-warming, for which we are deeply grateful. There is so much kindness and love around - packed in large boxes from ‘The Chocolatiers’ Table’ or in the smiles and shy requests for prayers from Mass attendees.

The lower pool has been meticulously cleared, with the no-longer totally white strips of lining freed from tree roots. They are now hanging up on the side of the shed. The lining still feels soft and warm and may well be felt made from sheep’s wool. They are already twenty years old. The remaining fish have now been transferred to the upper pond. Just in time as the wild wind and lashing rain have returned. The cleared area reminds me of an arena, although this space is to provide life and not to take it.

15th October

On Monday delightful Anglican Prayer Group came for a short day retreat. They have been together for more than ten years, meeting every month, and are obviously at ease with each other. This impressed us all, and made it very easy for me to give them another talk. I chose one of my Occasional Conferences: "Just Having a Look." It was well received.

On Wednesday we had a conference relating to the topic of ‘Charism and Essence’ of the English Benedictine Congregation. I based it on a talk given by Abbot Richard Yeo in 2006. He quoted from Jeremy Driscoll’s introduction to "A Monk’s Alphabet":

"A monk’s day is very regular. Prayer always at the same time and structured the same way. Reading and work at appointed intervals. Meals at the customary hour and always in the assigned place in refectory. A predictable diet .... Life goes on in the same way, one day after another, week after week, for years and years ....... It is not a repudiation of variety as the spice of life.... It is designed to set the monk free on a different level of his being, and generally it accomplishes just that. Once used to the exterior routine, the monk is free to live much more readily attuned to an interior life .... Only this can make the monastic life interesting. So, monastic life arranges the exterior dimensions of human existence in such a way that its interior dimensions can come immediately to the fore...... But the life of the spirit, the inner life, which emerges is anything but regular, anything but predictable .... In most cases, guided by the wisdom embodied in a vast tradition handed down by monks of former generations, the interior life which unfolds produces a variety which is indeed the spice of life."

Abbot Richard concluded his conference with these words:

"My own view, stated briefly, is that an integrated monastic life is centred on what the ancient tradition thought of as continuous prayer, a life where our prayer has certain high points, above all in the liturgy and in our personal prayer, but which is fostered by what we do in the rest of our life, and principally by our work and by our reading...."

On Friday, when I was preparing for my week as cook, a very kind couple, for whom we have been praying, arrived with a sack of potatoes, a chicken, pork pieces, mince and carrots - as well as some apples from their tree. This was the third time they have shown us such lavish generosity, something to which we are not used. It really is marvellous to be a Mass centre now.

The weather forecast is for cold weather ahead. Our windows were wet on the inside when we woke up. The poor little ladybirds and harlequins had thought that it was Spring again, so more eggs have  been hatched and, after pupation, a few have emerged with damaged wings - possibly because of the cold wind and rain.

A little harlequin was walking on the wooden frame of my bed during the night, thinking it was time to hibernate. One bough of a holly tree is in flower. The small white flowers, like the harlequin, look so vulnerable at a time when we tread autumn leaves underfoot.

22nd October

The days have been getting colder but it was not until daylight that I saw that the ivy and other shrubs close to the fence were grey-white with frost. By eleven o’clock the sun was shining, water was tumbling into the lower pool - as yet unfinished - and apples still hang on the boughs of the small apple trees. The actual apples have been wonderful this year, and quite a few have been cooked and stored in the freezer. Many more await attention and space. We also give them to visitors who have no apple trees. Roast apples stuffed with mince-meat are delicious with ice-cream.

While I was walking in the garden, duly attended by the cats, I noticed that it was once again a predominantly purple flower season. Primula are also in bloom, one lilac bush has rather strange flowers, and little clumps of strawberries are forming hard green fruit. Here and there are fragrant roses.

For a whole week we have had especially good homilies. The silence while J.D. preaches is absolute.

I have finished the truly wonderful book by Edmund de Waal. The netsuke he had inherited from his great-uncle Iggie aroused his curiosity, and the book covers over a hundred years of family history - some of it harrowing as the family is Jewish. His love of poetry flows into his prose, and the writing is deeply moving. I highly recommend the book: "The Hare with Amber Eyes".

After another conference on the theme of Charism, a Sister, rummaging through her papers, found one I had given in 2009. It begins with an account of the talk given by Archbishop Vincent Nichols when he addressed us at the General Chapter that year. It was relevant to the topic under consideration..

When Father Vincent Nichols was a young chaplain in Wigan he took a minibus load of six-formers - some considered troublesome - to Ampleforth Abbey. At that time there was no guest-house, so these youngsters were accommodated in the same corridor as some monks. It must have been in the late autumn or winter as the boys particularly noticed the darkness of the night: it was their first experience of real darkness. What also impressed them was that the monks arose in this darkness to pray .... which taught them some of the effort we make to pray early in the morning, and of our search for God.

The boys noticed how simply they were accepted, with nobody making any demands on them. The monks and boys were looking God-wards: they had a common, shared gaze.

The Archbishop then enumerated what people were looking for in us:

       A presence: a steady, visible presence of commitment to Christ in a particular location. Prayerfulness: the liturgy is not just        something that has to be done but is prayed.

       The peacefulness of the life as we are all focused on God.

     The presence of a community, as community life is always a challenge - especially in our society - our human tendency is to      strive for independence, separateness. Monastic life is an act of witness to a fundamental human truth: our need for                    interdependence. The commitment to a community is both an attraction and an enigma for society.

      If the Archbishop had to decide between Benedictine parish priest or a Benedictine community in his diocese, he would            always prefer a Benedictine community, preferably in an urban setting. Benedictine parishes should not lose their central            monastic character - they should reveal their charism.

British Summer Time ends on 30th October, followed by the Eve of All Saints (the Hallowed Ones) which has become such a strange day, associated with witchcraft and evil, haunting and immorality. The Church celebrates a very different feast.. Our feast is a spiritual harvest, when all the holy people known to God alone are commemorated in one great celebration. When the trees are covered with true autumn colours, they embody the Church bedecked by the saints shining in glory. Each leaf, each saint is different yet all are part of that one shining Tree - the Tree of Life glorious in our midst.