Forgiveness YES - Reconciliation NO

“Father … I have a problem with forgiving” said Sonia as she folded the last of the vestments and put them away in their cupboard in the Sacristy.

Father Ignatius was checking some paper work at a small desk in the corner of the large room. There was a tray there and parishioners were invited to place their messages, notices and sundry bits and pieces of information intended for the weekly Church Newsletter. The priest was reading through them in preparation for printing the Newsletter that evening. He stopped what he was doing and asked:

“What do you mean? A problem with forgiving …”

Sonia hesitated.

“I know you’ve always said we should forgive with all our heart … unreservedly … if we want God to forgive us our sins. I understand that … and I try as best I can to forgive wholeheartedly …”

“I can foretell a ‘but’ coming up …” smiled the priest, “but in this case …”

She smiled back.

“But in this case it is different …” she continued.

“There’s this woman at work who has hurt me really bad. She lied about me Father. And as a result I was severely reprimanded by our manager and I was made to lose a day’s pay … which I cannot afford.

“We used to be friends and all … but she lied to cover up her mistake and I got unfairly punished. This happened about two weeks ago.”

“This is terrible,” said Father Ignatius frowning at the unfairness of what he’d just heard. “Is there not some sort of appeal procedure at your workplace? Someone to talk to about it perhaps."

“No … that’s not the problem Father,” Sonia said.

“The thing is, this woman came to see me yesterday and apologized profusely for what she had done. She cried her heart out and said she could not have been found out to have made yet another mistake. She was on her last warning and another mistake would mean losing her job. That’s why she lied and put the blame on me. She begged me to forgive her … which I did straight-away Father. I told her to think no more about it and that all was now OK.”

“That’s very generous and loving of you … so what is the problem?” asked the priest.

“She wants us to be friends again, as before. We used to visit each other at our homes … and we’d shop together, or pick up each others’ children from school and so on … she wants everything to be as before.

“I find that very difficult … I just can’t trust her any-more and I want us to keep our distance. I forgive her as I said; but I can’t go back as before. My husband agrees and says I should no longer speak to her. I think I can speak and be nice to her at work but that’s as far as it goes; I can’t be friends again. Is my forgiveness worthless?”

“No … it is not worthless,” replied Father Ignatius gently, “when we forgive someone else, we touch their very soul with the merciful love of Jesus Christ our Lord.

“You’ve been hurt Sonia … hurt and punished unfairly and undeservedly.

“When we forgive people it means that we no longer hold their wrongdoings to account. We no longer bear them any malice or ill-feelings or ill-will.

“We acknowledge that we forgive them and we let them go their own way free from any fear of punishment or retribution on our part.

“This doesn’t mean however that we forget the pain caused to us. How can we? The hurt is imprinted in our memory and try as we might the chances are that we’ll remember it time and again. It’s only natural … it’s human nature. You forgave her and told her so …”

Sonia nodded; holding back her tears.

“And that’s all that is expected of you …” continued the priest gently, noticing that she was very upset at the mere thought of the event.

“We all have a right … a duty even … to protect ourselves and to protect our loved ones …

“If we feel uncomfortable about a particular situation or relationship, we have every right to distance ourselves from it.

“For very understandable reasons you feel uncomfortable at being friendly with this person as you were before; visiting each other and picking each others’ children from school and so on.

“There’s nothing wrong with that … tell her politely that you’ve forgiven her and that you feel both of you should leave it at that. An amicable relationship from a distance …”

“But …” Sonia interrupted, “how can that be forgiveness? By keeping my distance implies that I’m still holding something against her. She knows that … you and I know that … and God knows that …”

Father Ignatius smiled.

“Oh yes … God knows that all right … and He knows the reason behind it too …” he said.

“Let me tell you a story …

“Jesus once taught His disciples and His followers about Himself.

“He said, ‘whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood lives in me, and I live in him’

“A number of His followers found this difficult to understand. What does He mean … eat His flesh and drink His blood? Many today, find this very concept difficult to understand; so you can imagine how it was in those times.

“So a number of Christ’s followers decided to leave and no longer follow Him.

“What did Jesus do?

“He didn’t call them back. He didn’t say, ‘Wait, let me explain … this is what I meant to say …’ He didn’t compromise His position in any way …

“He just let them go … and He even asked His twelve disciples, ‘How about you … do you want to go as well?’

“You see Sonia … Jesus forgave them and let them go … He didn’t curse them and send plagues and pestilence on them and their families for generations …”

She smiled again feeling a little calmer.

“He just forgave them and let them go …

“Which is what you should also do …” said Father Ignatius serenely.

ADDITIONAL REFLECTIONS

Often we tend to confuse the real meaning of forgiveness.

Let us remember that we are humans. We can't help it ... that's the way we are, the way God made us, with a multitude of various emotions, fears, hopes and ways of interpreting many situations in our lives. We're complex creatures. He had His reasons to create us this way.

Being human, one of our first instincts is to protect ourselves and the ones we love. Another feature of our humanity is the ability to remember ... the good times, but more specifically the bad times.

The worse the bad times, the more terrible they've been, the more they are imprinted in our memories.

Anything can and will trigger these memories again ... visiting a place, seeing a photo, hearing a particular song ... anything ... and the bad memories come flooding back again. That's the price we pay for being human.

Christ said: "Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who hurt us."

Thank God that He does not hold us to the strict letter of this particular contract; otherwise we'd all be taking the fastest elevator going down!

Yet ... He does hold us to the intent of that particular contract we recite in the Lord's Prayer.

He asks us to forgive ... that's the important thing. Not just seven times but seventy times seven … and many times more than that as well.

Forgiving someone means that we no longer hold a grudge, or any ill-will or ill-feelings towards them or the hurt they have caused us. We let them go in peace free of fear of any revenge or retribution on our part.

This applies whether we tell them that they are forgiven, or whether they have moved away, or perhaps never asked or sought our forgiveness, and perhaps they don’t even care about our feelings.

What matters is that in our hearts we have truly forgiven them; and, here’s the difficult bit, … we can prove it to God should He ask us to.

Of course the memories will come back … we can’t help that. But let’s use them positively by forgiving once again. Let us use them as a reminder to pray for the ones who hurt us. Let us say to God : “Please look after that person. Enlighten them and lead them to find your love as I have found it too.”

Would it not be wonderful if as a result of our hurt … and our prayers … someone finds God, perhaps for the first time.

Christ has His memories too when He sees the scars in His hands, feet and side. I believe He uses these memories to forgive us yet again.

I doubt very much that the Virgin Mary has forgotten the Crucifixion. But she forgives again and again.

Having truly forgiven, it is our right and duty to keep our distance from that person if we feel they create a threat to us or our loved ones. Keeping our distance is NOT a sin, and it does not mean that we haven’t forgiven or that our forgiveness is worthless.

The world has seen many evil people over the years who have caused great hurt and pain to many. Whilst in our moments of prayers perhaps we can attempt to forgive them; this does not mean that we should leave them to freely continue with their actions. It is our duty as individuals, and as nations, to protect ourselves and our loved ones from those intent on doing us harm. Forgiveness does not mean accepting evil and allowing it to succeed.

In the story above, Jesus would have forgiven the woman and continued the friendship with her. But we are not Jesus. We are humans, and most of us would not be able to do that.

Being human we can only forgive as humans. We cannot possibly forgive as He has forgiven, no matter how hard we try.

He was human, but He was/is God too … and that’s a level of forgiveness we can never achieve.

We can only hope to live by the intent of that particular contract in the Lord’s Prayer.

God bless.

Going up

 

We went to mom-in-law to celebrate her birthday. I did not know what to get her as a present. I thought, seeing we'd all be outside in the garden enjoying a barbecue and no doubt jumping and swimming in her swimming pool in the garden; why not get her something we could all enjoy.

.

A TRAMPOLINE

 

I bought her a trampoline. My wife did not think it was appropriate for someone her mom's age; but hey ... why not? You are as young as you feel your age; or whatever the saying is.

She had a nice barbecue ready with sausages, burgers and steaks. By the way, as an aside, I once had elephant steak. Have you ever had elephant steak? You'll never forget!

I set up the trampoline in the garden and the children quickly had a go at bouncing up and down. To her credit, so did mom-in-law. She got out of the swimming pool and decided to try out her new toy which I got her. She is such a short lady. So short that her feet don't reach the ground.

I had to pick her up and lift her onto the trampoline. Once there she started bouncing higher and higher and somersaulting as she did so. She got up so high that her bikini bra got caught up in the branches of the nearby tree. She just hung there like an ornament on a Christmas tree. We did not know what to do. I was concerned in case the bra strap broke and she'd come tumbling down and break the trampoline. 

It reminded of the occasion years ago when I learnt magic and had practised levitation. I got her to lie down on her back on the dinner table and magically levitated her. She floated up slowly until she reached the ceiling. Unfortunately, once she reached there I could not get her down again. She remained up there in a lying down position with her nose touching the ceiling. It was embarrassing with gravity doing its bit with her dress hanging down revealing her undergarments.

 

In my panic I forgot the magic word to bring her down again and I was afraid she might suddenly drop with a bump and break the table.

 

I asked her to float slowly down but nothing happened. She remained up there, nose to ceiling. The trick had gone wrong.

She began to panic. I stood on the table and tried to get hold of her legs to get her down. I could not reach her. I suggested that I carried her friend, Matilda, on my shoulders and I got on the table so Matilda could pull her down. Matilda, who is in her late sixties, agreed readily and tucked her dress into her underpants, ready to be lifted by me.

I tried lifting Matilda as she put her legs round my neck. She was far too heavy for me. We gave up the attempt as a bad job.

Someone suggested we call the fire-brigade. They have long ladders. Mom-in-law refused. She was too embarrassed to float up there in the presence of strangers.

After thirty minutes or more of various discussions and suggestions, we noticed that she had floated down a few inches from the ceiling. Ten minutes later she floated down some more. And a bit more again. It was like a party balloon slowly losing the air within and floating down. Ever so slowly until, all by herself she came down to lie on the table as before.
 

This time it was no different. Mom-in-law was stuck up a tree. If she fell down she'd break the trampoline for sure. I did the only obvious thing and moved the trampoline away.

 

My wife got angry shouting at me to get her down. I explained that bra straps these days are made of very strong material and are unlikely to break - polyester I believe! This did not appease my wife.

We got a long step ladder from the garage and I was volunteered against my will and better nature to get up there and get mom-in-law down. It was not a pleasant experience. Going up there and holding on to her legs whilst I tried to untangle her bra from the tree branch. What if I fell? There was no trampoline down there to soften my fall. 

 

Anyway, I got the bra strap off the tree branch. She sat on my shoulders, and I slowly step by step got her down to terra-firma.

This is me and father-in-law enjoying bouncing on the trampoline. He did not want to go up the ladder to get his wife down because he was minding the barbecue at the time. No one likes burnt food!

Where have you bin?

 

I believe you can judge the affluence of a country by the number of wheelie bins they have. In our area we have three. A green one, an orange one and a black one. 

The bin above is green and it is for garden waste only. Tree  branches, leaves. grass cuttings, that sort of thing. Do not put any potato or carrot peelings in there, or cabbage or cauliflower leaves or other green things from your house like dead old flowers. If you do so it will unleash the four horsemen of the Apocalypse. Some authorities have fined repeat offenders for putting cabbage leaves in these bins. Cabbage leaves and other household waste should go in the black bins. 

But not newspapers, magazines, cardboard, plastic bottles like shampoo, soft drinks, yoghurt containers and such like. They go in the orange recyclables bin.

Got it? Green for garden waste. Black for household waste. And orange for recyclable waste. And all three for a waste of time.

These bins are emptied on a rotation period. One week green, then black, and then orange.  

An opportunity for me to play tricks. You need to be a genius to remember which week is which colour. Our bins are emptied on Tuesdays. So on Monday I get out the wrong colour bin, for example green. The neighbours follow suit and get their green bins out. Late on Monday night I go out, bring my green bin in, and put out the appropriate one for that week. The next morning the trash lorry empties my bin because it is the right coloured one and leaves all the other bins untouched. What hilarity!!!

People get very possessive about their bins. They put their house number on them. After all, you would not want someone else to put their trash in your bin whilst it's out in the street awaiting emptying? Would you? So you put the house number on your bin to fend off other peoples' trash. And you would not want someone else's bin on your premises would you? Noooo ... your bin, your trash, your premises.

Another opportunity for me to play tricks. The trash lorry people normally empty your bin and then leave it in front of your house. They don't bother with house numbers. So late on Monday night I go out and very silently move all the bins around. No.1 now has bin number 7 and No.7 has bin number 3 and so on. The next morning the bin men empty the bins and leave them where they found them. And the neighbours get out and find it is not their bin awaiting them; but an impostor from down the road. The hilarity is tremendous, I tell you. I have even done the same trick with doormats. They all have individual doormats and I changed them all round late at night. 

A further individuality about bins is that some people have them cleaned weekly. After the bin men have been, another van comes round and if you have a contract they wash your bin and dry it and put some perfume inside so it smells nice. Now that's affluence for you.

When it comes to trash.  I've bin there and done that!

Maestro

 

I've always wanted to lead an orchestra, but unfortunately I don't read music or play any instruments. I've been told conducting an orchestra is easy though. All you need is a stick. Here's a video of me leading our local Orchestra.

 

The joys of aging disgracefully

They say people should grow old gracefully. What nonsense. I intend to grow old disgracefully and will probably die trying.

Why can't we behave as we like when we get older? Most of us have behaved properly and cared about what others think of us most of our lives. As we grow older, now's the time to venture into a little mischief and enjoy how others around us deal with it.

Men especially. They can get away with most mischief and people think they are cute because they are of a "certain age". They can be eccentric in the way they behave, or in what they wear, and no one seems to mind.

An old acquaintance of mine, for instance, wears his trousers pulled up all the way to his nipples. They are held there by braces and a wide belt pulled tightly round his chest. With a white checkered shirt and brown woollen pullover, both tucked in inside the trousers, and covered by a tweed jacket, and he's good to go. He's the fashion icon of today's older society. He's a sex symbol for women who don't care.

But in his defence, why should old people not wear what they want?

What is really wrong if an old man wears two differently coloured socks? And you ladies, if you don't wear socks, why not wear different earrings just to be individually fashionable? Why do you have to conform? Why not wear a bra on your head instead of a hat? I once went out shopping wearing my underpants on my head. Mind you, I had difficulty that day putting my legs through my hat.

As you get older you can afford to be a little mischievous and have fun. I went to visit an old lady the other day. Much older than me, she was. As we sat there talking I noticed that she had a suppository sticking out of her ear. I told her about it. She replied: "Oh goodness me ... I wonder where I put my hearing aid?"

Be adventurous on your way to having fun. You know you want to. You've been waiting all your life to do something new and exciting and getting away with it.

If like me, you're a Catholic, go to Confession and ask the priest, "Have you heard any good gossip lately?"

Put a stick of celery through someone's window and shout, "The Triffids have landed. The Triffids have landed!"

Or put a carrot on your shoulder and tell people you are a vegetarian pirate.

Or pour cream on your shoulder and tell them your parrot had diarrhoea.

Put some cake, custard and jelly in someone's handbag and say, "Don't trifle with a woman's affections!" 

When you wake up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom; and you don't know what time it is. Just open a window and beat a drum, or blow on a trumpet or bagpipes. Someone is sure to shout: "Who's making all that **** racket at three in the morning?"  

Behaving disgracefully is real fun. You can get away with it as you get older. When they asked me to send a urine sample at the hospital I sent them the dog's urine instead. That really confused the doctors.

I often send a friend of mine to give a blood sample to be tested instead of me going to the hospital. They never check. They just take the card your doctor gave you and then take a sample of your blood for testing and then advise your doctor of the results. The last time this happened my friend could not go so he sent his daughter instead. My doctor told me the result showed that I was pregnant. 

How to be boring without really trying

 

These days many people want to be interesting, fun, a joy to be with, the centre of attention, the life and soul of the party. As a result, many people are false. They try too hard. They are not being themselves and you can see it a mile away. But as someone once said, they all want their ten minutes of fame, or even longer. They all want to be a celebrity. With everyone competing for the limelight one cannot distinguish one falsehood from another.

Be different. Be memorable. Be boring, just like me. You will stand out. People will remember you as the grumpy one at parties. The stickler for details at any conversation. The one who holds up discussions and drags every meeting twice as long as needed and as a result they all agree in order to get home quickly. Be the one who brightens up any gathering just by leaving it.

Here's how to do it:

First of all, always start a conversation by harping on about the past. Say phrases like, "In my days, years ago we did it this way ... During the recession when we were poor and we had shortages ... You youngsters have never had it so good, when I was your age ..." There is nothing like mentioning how better the past was to irritate every discussion and to drag it down to pointless comparisons. I have enjoyed much entertainment in starting such arguments and seeing people divide into age groups and defending their time in history and their way of doing things. I just sat there and smiled inwardly.

Another trick is to focus on details. Every subject and every discussion has its details and if you are clever you can bog the whole thing down by focussing on something and innocently ask clarification or questions. Play the innocent and confused and pretend to ask for advice or information. As an example, at a cookery class once I asked the difference between a pot and a pan. Someone said a pan is for frying. Another disagreed. And before long they had all gone off the subject of cooking and were debating the various kitchen utensils and cutlery.

Another (innocent) question at another gathering was the difference between a pamphlet and a booklet. And which one should we print to announce an event or other and the relative differences in costs involved.

How about asking where does the universe expand into if the whole of space is itself the universe. Or if there are so many stars in the universe then why is space so dark. This one got many technical responses from the group none of which made much sense but were the source of great amusement to me.

Try these at your next gathering. Do you say scone or scon? Pronounced much shorter. And do you put the cream first on the scone and then the jam or the other way round. And do you use raspberry or strawberry jam? And do you pour the milk first in the cup or the tea first? And do you hold the cup with your little finger sticking out or not? Why do Americans say elevator and we say lift? Side-walk and pavement. Gas and petrol. What is the difference between a raven and a crow? With a little practice you'll have a whole set of topics to be boring with at any meeting but you'll certainly be memorable.

Soup ... ... ... that's another thing to be boring about. Do you put the spoon to your mouth sideways, or front-wise? Now there's a dilemma. And is it OK at the end to tip the plate slightly to get the last few drops of soup?

Another trick in your armoury to being boring is gathering a lot of useless facts which you can propound on at length whenever the opportunity presents itself. Like the mating habits of the silverfish. The real meaning of Absolute Zero. And what would happen if the earth slowed down to the point where it stopped spinning. I have enjoyed many an hour or three watching peoples' eyelids drop slowly as I continued explaining one theory or another and asking them questions to ensure they stay awake. People are so polite these days and would remain there listening rather than being thought rude by asking you to shut up. But one thing's for sure; you'll be always memorable.

And finally, when someone asks you how you are never say "OK thanks!" Go into details about everything that ails you and all the pains that you have to suffer every day and how it makes your life difficult. The more information you share, even if unwarranted, the better. I remember once we used to meet every week as members of a committee or other. One week I asked this woman, "Hi there. How are you this week?" To my amazement and surprise she said she was a little constipated. How can you be a little constipated? You either are or you are not. Then she went into details about her visit to the doctor and what he did and said and prescribed. She put me off our group meal afterwards. But she won the Lifetime Achievement Award in the services of Boredom.

Be different. Be memorable. Be boring. Good luck.

Pentecost

 

ACTS 2:1-4

When the day of Pentecost came, the believers were all together in one place. Suddenly a sound like a mighty rushing wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting. They saw tongues like flames of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them. And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit enabled them.

Pentecost is a Christian festival celebrated the 49th day (the seventh Sunday) after Easter Sunday. It commemorates the descent of the Holy Spirit upon the Apostles and other followers of Jesus while they were in Jerusalem celebrating the Feast of Weeks (Acts 2:1-31).

The term Pentecost comes from the Greek Πεντηκοστή (Pentēkostē) meaning "fiftieth".

If we read the whole passage, we learn that this must have been a very traumatic experience to the Apostles and all others gathered together in that house in fear of the authorities. Christ, their leader, had been crucified and then raised from the dead. Many had seen Him and were witness to His resurrection and were there when He was raised to Heaven. Now they were in hiding. Confused. Not knowing what to do next.

Suddenly there's a mighty sound and flames of fire on their heads.

Now I don't know about you; but if my few hairs suddenly turned into instant combustion I'd certainly not sit there quietly praying.

We do not have a record in Acts of how the followers of Jesus reacted to the fire; but we know what happened next.

They were filled with the Holy Spirit.

This means that, the Holy Spirit, the third person in the Trinity, let's call Him the Spirit, (soul) of God, descended on them and became one with their very souls.

Their soul and the Holy Spirit were one. And this union of the human and the Divine manifested itself in many ways. For a start they all had the courage to speak up. They were no longer afraid. These very people who days before had ran away when Jesus was arrested, suddenly gained new courage given them by the Holy Spirit.

They knew the truth about Jesus and His Resurrection and they were no longer afraid to keep the secret to themselves. They had the courage to stand up and shout their truth to all willing to hear. They were not afraid of the consequences.

Jesus had sent them His Holy Spirit as promised.

John 14:15-21

"If you love me, you will keep my commandments. And I will ask the Father, and He will give you another Advocate, to be with you for ever. This is the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees him nor knows him. You know him, because He abides with you, and He will be in you."

And what's more, by receiving the Holy Spirit the followers of Jesus gained a new ability as well as courage. They were all able to speak in different languages that up to then they knew nothing about. There were many people in Jerusalem at the time.

There were "... Parthians, Medes, and Elamites; residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya near Cyrene; visitors from Rome, both Jews and converts to Judaism; Cretans and Arabs - we hear them declaring the wonders of God in our own tongues!”

To the early disciples, the Holy Spirit was real indeed. They had experienced the power of the Holy Spirit. They received Him at Pentecost in tongues of fire and they were able to speak to the crowds that gathered in different languages. Peter explained to the crowd that the disciples had received God's Holy Spirit.

The disciples, and early Christians, now knew for certain that the one and only living God they believed in, whom Abraham, Moses, and the prophets had spoken of, had sent His only Son Jesus to earth. Because they had met Jesus. They also knew that Jesus had sent His Holy Spirit upon them, because they had experienced the Holy Spirit.

To them this was all a reality. Something they had seen, experienced and understood. Not some sort of Holy Trinity puzzle of three in one yet each one separate from the three. 

Because the disciples had experienced the Holy Spirit, He became such a force in their lives, giving them strength to spread the Good News that Jesus had taught them, enabling them to live as Jesus had lived.

It was they who handed on to us this mystery that in one God there are three Persons. Because they had experienced it in their lives.

Can you imagine that? Imagine that you suddenly not only had the courage to proclaim your belief in God at work, or at the supermarket, or in the street; but you also could speak your beliefs in French, German, or any other language that you do not know to make yourself understood by your audience.

Think about it for a moment. Not only do you suddenly have the courage to speak up; but you can do it in any language.

To the followers of Jesus gathered there on that day, receiving the Holy Spirit was a real event in their lives. It was not something they had read about in some old scrolls, or heard about it from some prophet. To them this was real indeed. And it became real for the rest of their lives. When they met and spoke about receiving the Holy Spirit they meant exactly that.

And afterwards, even though some people had been baptised as followers of Christ, it was not until they too had received the Holy Spirit that their lives truly changed. (Acts 8:14-17).

Imagine for instance some major event happening in your life. In future, when you describe this event to others who had not been there; to you, this event was and will always be a reality. It happened. You witnessed it. You were there. And now you can tell others about it.

Sadly though, with the passage of time, the story of Pentecost, or more precisely, the significance and understanding of receiving the Holy Spirit, has been diluted over the years.

People these days do not understand what it means to receive the Holy Spirit. Some don't even believe it. Others think that it was a once in a lifetime event. It happened years ago the the followers of Christ. What has it to do with me right now, today?

The reality is that we can all receive the Holy Spirit into our souls today. All we have to do is to believe it is possible; and to sincerely ask God to send us the Holy Spirit.

I have known people with the Holy Spirit. They are usually more at peace with themselves and the world than the rest of us. Assured of God's love and protection. Always calm and able to speak God's Word and to give advice when needed in a peaceful reassuring way.

I find it difficult to describe such people and their demeanour and attitude to life. But believe me, once you know someone with the Holy Spirit you will certainly know and notice that they are different to other people.

For whom the cock crows

 

Sunday Mass was over and everyone had left. Father Ignatius was clearing up in the Sacristy when Arthur, a young Altar Boy, came in sheepishly.

“Are you still here?” asked the priest.

“Yes Father … can I ask you something please?” replied the young teenager.

“Fire away …” encouraged the priest as he sat down.

“I think I committed a sin yesterday … and I took Communion today.”

“You think … are you not sure? What did you do?” asked Father Ignatius gently.

“I was at the Karate Club yesterday. I go every Saturday. During break some of the boys were talking about Jesus and they were mocking and laughing. They were telling jokes about Him and saying bad things!”

“I see … and what did you do?”

“That’s it …” hesitated the young lad, “I did nothing. I didn’t want to tell them about Jesus in case they laughed at me. I just kept quiet and smiled.”

“I understand …” said Father Ignatius pausing slightly, “have you told Peter about this?”

“Peter Marsden?”

“No … not Peter Marsden! Who is he anyway?” asked the priest frowning a little.

“He is our Karate Instructor … we call him Sensei …” replied young Arthur.

Father Ignatius smiled.

“I meant St Peter …” he continued, “you know him? We have a large statue of him at the back of the church.”

The boy nodded.

“What do you know about him?”

“He was a disciple of Jesus,” said Arthur.

“That’s right … and like you he was a little hesitant when asked about Jesus. When Jesus was arrested Peter denied knowing Him three times. And then the cock crew and reminded Peter of what Jesus had said … do you know the story?” asked Father Ignatius.

Arthur nodded again.

“The important thing to remember Arthur,” continued Father Ignatius gently, “is that Peter was sorry at what he had done; and Jesus forgave him. And Peter went on to become head of the Church.

“I quite understand that you felt a little intimidated yesterday. Jesus understands it too, and He forgives you just as He forgave Peter.

“But remember this Arthur … as you grow up there will be other occasions when you’ll be faced with the same situation. People will mock Jesus, God or your religion. This is the way of the world I’m afraid. Jesus has many enemies in this world, despite all He has done for us.

“It’s at those times when I pray and hope that you’ll have the courage to stand up for Jesus and for your beliefs.

“What happened yesterday is understandable in the life of someone so young as yourself.

“The sad tragedy Arthur is that grown-ups often deny knowing and loving Jesus for fear of what others might say. In a free society as we enjoy these days, compared to the times of Peter, grown-ups still shy away from knowing and loving the Lord. They keep their heads down in embarrassment.”

Father Ignatius looked at the child in the eye and asked.

“You’re learning Karate you say?”

Arthur nodded.

“Good …” said the priest, “that’s a defensive martial art. Isn’t it?

“You should remember always to defend the Lord, Arthur. Not with your fighting skills, but with your wisdom, your pure soul and by the way you live.

“The Good Lord will help you to know what to say and when to say it.

“You’re the Karate Altar Boy … defending the Lord with your soul!”

Arthur smiled broadly.

“Now you’d better hurry home before your parents start worrying about you.”

As the young boy turned to leave Father Ignatius added, “and don’t forget to pray for me … I need prayers too you know!”

Reviews

 

Going Up

Father Ignatius parked the car outside Somerton Towers and out he came with Monsignor Thomas and Sister Martha.

Monsignor Thomas was a small man, rather rotund in stature with a red chubby face which looked like an over ripe tomato. His short body and little legs made him walk like an overfed duck, waddling from side to side as he moved.

Despite her sixty-something age, Sister Martha was very energetic and could out-run anyone half her age. She headed for the front door first and opened it for the Monsignor.

The three walked through the foyer and headed for the elevator only to be met by Theodore Luxton-Joyce, the eccentric millionaire well known to Father Ignatius.

“Hello Padre …” he shouted at the top of his voice attracting the attention of everyone in the foyer, “rather unusual seeing you here … don’t tell me you’re a businessman in priest’s clothing …” he chortled loudly.

Before Father Ignatius had time to respond to Theodore a bell rang once and the elevator doors slid open. The four of them waited for the elevator to empty and then they entered as the doors slid shut again.

Theodore was first at the controls.

“Where are you going Padre …” he asked.

“Right to the top …” replied Father Ignatius.

“Ah … same here … 13th floor … right to the top … nearer to Heaven … here we go …” joked Theodore.

The elevator moved swiftly upwards as they stood quietly looking at the numbers change on the illuminated control panel. As it reached the figure 12 it stopped violently with a loud screeching noise. Monsignor Thomas lost his footing and nearly rolled on the floor like a giant pumpkin had he not been caught by Sister Martha and Father Ignatius simultaneously.

“Blast!!!” shouted Theodore, then realizing what he’d said, “Oh … I’m ever so sorry Padre … and you too Padre … and … eh … Miss … eh … Sister … sorry Sister …”

They said nothing and as they recovered slowly from the shock Theodore took control once again. “Ah … this panel here … it should have a phone,” he said as he pulled it open.

He picked up the phone and after a second or two a voice was heard to say: “Engineers here … how can we help you?”

“Well … I’d thought you’d deliver us a pizza …” replied Theodore angrily, “but in the meantime perhaps you’d care to let us out of this cage …”

“Which elevator are you in?” asked the engineer.

“I didn’t happen to ask as I got in … it’s the one on the left in Somerton Towers …” snorted Theodore.

“Ah yes sir … it has just shown up on our emergency panel … we’ll be with you shortly …” replied the engineer as Theodore put the phone back in its place.

“Well … I hope they won’t keep us waiting for hours …” he said angrily, “I have an important meeting in a few minutes’ time …”

“I’m sure they’re doing all they can,” said Father Ignatius calmly.

“I don’t like confined spaces …” he grumbled.

“May I suggest you loosen your tie a bit Sir, and take short breaths to calm you a little …” suggested Sister Martha.

“Oh … I’m calm alright …” he retorted, “I’ve always been calm … born calm … that’s me … not crying like the rest of humanity … but I have an important meeting you know …”

Then looking up he added.

“Now normally in films there’s a trap door in the ceiling … I could find it and we can escape …”

“I hope you don’t expect me to climb up there …” said Monsignor Thomas; “I would not fit through any trap door … no matter how large …” he smiled nervously.

Theodore looked at him and politely bit his lip before saying anything.

“I tell you what Padre …” said Theodore finally, “I’ll climb up there myself … I bet there’s a lever up there which will release the door open … I’ve seen it done in films many times you know …”

“There’s no need for that …” interrupted Father Ignatius gently, fearing a heart attack or worse mishap happening to the elderly eccentric, “I’m sure the engineers will be here in no time …”

“But … but … you’re denying me the opportunity to impress your friends here Padre!” said Theodore winking at Father Ignatius with a smile.

“No one is climbing anywhere …” said Sister Martha having missed the joke completely, “let’s remain calm until help arrives. Perhaps we could recite the Rosary …”

“That would take years …” interrupted Theodore without thinking, “eh … what I meant to say … oh never mind …

“Padre … you have not introduced me to your friends … How do you do Sister and Padre … I’m Theodore Luxton-Joyce …”

“This is Sister Martha from the Convent near St Vincent Church,” said Father Ignatius introducing his companions, “and this is Monsignor Thomas representing the Bishop …”

“The Bishop? That sounds grand …” said Theodore.

“Yes … I represent the Bishop …” said the Monsignor with a smile.

“I must say … I’ve never been trapped in an elevator with two priests and a nun …” laughed Theodore, “in fact I’ve never been trapped in an elevator ever …

“Can you imagine … if the elevator cables broke and we fell to our death … the newspaper headlines tomorrow would say … Nun and two priests go down!!!
Ha … ha … ha …” he laughed heartily.

They smiled politely and said nothing. Theodore looked at his watch and said,

“Damn those engineers … my meeting should have started twenty minutes ago.

“It’s very important … what? It’s a hearing about some stupid objection or other … Coston Enterprises are being blocked by some non-sense argument from some group or other …”

“Did you say Coston Enterprises?” asked Father Ignatius politely.

“Yes … that’s me …” replied Theodore, “I own Coston Enterprises … we hope to build a farm on a stretch of land up the hill West of town … pigs mainly … high demand for pork these days … bacon … sausages … pork chops and all that … I had my eyes on two pieces of land to choose from, so I settled West of town … just up the hill …

“Unfortunately some group or other has complained to the Local Authority. Spoiling the environment … they say. What nonsense I say … That’s what this meeting is all about … I’ve come to put an end to all their objections … can’t stand in the way of farming you know … business is business after all … what?”

“That’s us, Theodore!” said Father Ignatius.

“Us what?” asked Theodore, still not getting the point.

“We are the ones who objected to your proposals,” continued Father Ignatius as Sister Martha stopped reciting the Rosary abruptly, and the Monsignor gestured secretly to Father Ignatius to say nothing more.

“What?” shouted Theodore, “you are the Diocesan Property Holdings Trust Fund? Why didn’t you say so … old boy?”

“Yes … Theodore …” continued Father Ignatius, “it’s a Trust Fund managed by the Bishop. The Monsignor and I represent St Vincent Church, Sister Martha represents the Convent nearby.

“The land you propose to farm on backs onto our joint land, the Church and the Convent. And we feel that a pig’s farm … well … it may cause some smell … and …”

“Some smell !!!” shouted Theodore, “Some smell you say? It will be a right proper stinko Padre … I can assure you … have you never been on a pig’s farm … what? They do smell to high Heaven I tell you … but that’s what pigs do … they smell all right … but they taste nice too …”

“Yes … quite …” mumbled Father Ignatius politely.

“Well … why did you not tell me Padre? Instead of all this objection nonsense … I’ve had to read reams of papers because of you … well not read them exactly … just looked at the headings and decided it was all nonsense.

“You have my phone number have you not? You could have rung me or Rose … that’s my wife …” he said to the Monsignor and Sister Martha, “jolly nice woman … what? The Padre here married us … I wouldn’t have had the courage if it wasn’t for him …

“Yes … you should have phoned me Padre and we could have discussed it over a cup of chai and biscuits …”

“I didn’t know you own Coston Enterprises …” said Father Ignatius.

“And how was I to know you’re the Diocesan Property something or other …” chuckled Theodore, “ha … ha … just had a thought Padre … the stink from the pig’s farm wouldn’t half compete with your incense on Sunday … what?”

“So … we objected on the grounds …” Father Ignatius hesitated.

“Oh … think nothing of it … Padre” interrupted Theodore, “I’ll build the farm on the other piece of land … nearer the highway … easier access and all that …

“I can always plant various vegetables just behind your land … no objection to that I hope? Or would you prefer sweet smelling flowers … what?”

Father Ignatius looked at the Monsignor who shook his head and smiled. Sister Martha said that they’d have no objection either to turning the land to arable use. Just then the engineers opened the elevator doors and let them out.

“Well then …” suggested Theodore, “I propose we go to the Grand Hotel to celebrate with a sumptuous lunch … my treat … I used to go there with Rose you know … jolly nice … the restaurant that is … oh … and Rose too … of course … she’s jolly nice too … what?”

AMAZON LINK

KINDLE LINK

 

Work Culture

 

What is happening to peoples' attitudes towards work these days? When I worked in London we had to work all the hours that God sends. As a manager I was on call 24/7 and often got phoned at weekends and on holidays.

Now people want to work from home. They say it's more efficient. They can stay in bed till mid-day and pretend to be busy in their pyjamas. (Doing what?)

Those that turn up at the office want to dress casually. No more three-piece pin-striped suits as in my days. They want to be in T shirt, shorts and flip flop sandals. It's more relaxed they say. Personally, I think flip flops and bikinis are more suited to the beach rather than an office in the City.

I remember the trend starting about working from home and being more "eco-friendly" towards the planet. I hate that term which is often used to hide a personal advantage to yourself rather than caring one hoot for the environment, or global warming, or future generations. 

The argument was put to me that working from home would save everyone commuting to London by train, bus, car or motorcycle. Think of all the energy that would be saved. Less gas, less pollution, less traffic on the roads ... less work !!!

If I gave way to their demands I'd be the only one commuting to London and sitting in an empty office block talking to myself. (Which I often do in my family).

The door-keepers and security guys wanted to work from home. Don't ask me how, but that's what they wanted. Also the restaurant staff, (cooks, waitresses, cashiers etc...), all wanted to work from home. It didn't occur to any of them that if we all worked from home we would not need security or restaurant staff. But then, in those days thinking was not in fashion; very much as it isn't today.

Can you imagine if everyone worked from home? You ring for a taxi and the taxi driver gives you instructions on how you can drive yourself to where you want to go; or walk if you have no car.

You ring for a plumber or electrician and they tell you how to mend it yourself.  

What if doctors worked from home? No, that wouldn't happen. They would not want you to interrupt their football on TV. They'd probably answer the phone and tell you if you do not feel any better in three months time then ring again.

What if postmen and all delivery staff worked from home? They'd phone you and you go to their home to collect your letter or parcel. Amazon and such like would save a fortune on deliveries. Same for pizza deliveries and other food deliveries. I may be on to some bright business idea here.

And another thing about today's work shy society. Why can't people be more precise and punctual with their appointments? Only this week I have had utility type people like electricians, builders and the like, tell me that they will arrive between 1:00pm and 6:00pm. That's five hours I'll have to stay at home watching football on TV waiting for them to arrive. And they were late. 

An electrician who advertised that he is always punctual told me he'll be calling between 20:25 and 20:30.

That's five years I'll be waiting for him to change a light bulb!

Ghosts

 

Do you believe in ghosts? Have you seen one?

I've always wondered about ghosts. Why is it ghosts are always seen in old houses, mansions or castles? Spooky places like that? 

Has there ever been a ghost seen at the frozen food aisle of the local supermarket? That should send a chill down your spine. Or a frisson if it's a French supermarket.

Is it perhaps that ghosts don't like the limelight? Is that why they don't appear in well-lit places like the supermarket?

Do ghosts just appear there standing and doing nothing? Or gliding and vanishing through walls? 

Why aren't they busy doing something when they appear? For example, has anyone ever seen a ghost riding a bicycle? Or making an omelette? Or having a shower? What would a naked ghost look like? And would the water go right through him or slide over him?

What is the intention of a ghost? They appear out of nowhere and go "Wooooh ... Woooooh ..." to frighten people. People run away and leave the ghosts all alone. Alienated from society. Surely it would be wiser to befriend people and sit down with them for a cup of tea and a chat.  

A friend of mine was convinced his car was haunted bu a ghost. He said he often saw someone sitting next to him in the passenger seat whilst he was driving. It happened mostly on long journeys on the highways. Never in slow traffic in town. Maybe that particular ghost had used up his air-miles and needed a ride in my friend's car. Do ghosts travel from one place to another; or do they stay in one place haunting people there?

Anyway, my friend got in touch with an exorcist and asked him to shoo the ghost away. Tell him to move to another faster car perhaps. The exorcist took the car for a drive to see if the ghost makes an appearance. 

When he came back from his ghost test-drive he declared that there was no ghost but the engine needed a change of oil. As it happens. the exorcist was also a car mechanic in his spare time because ghost hunting did not pay much.

By the way, do ghosts always speak the language of the country where they appear? Or can you have, say, a Greek speaking ghost in England? Or a Spanish speaking ghost in France?

Would a Greek speaking ghost carry a dictionary so he could communicate properly in England? And would he speak English with a Greek accent?

I once saw a ghost out at sea. I don't believe in ghosts really; but I did see something, or someone, who looked like a ghost.

It was in an old fishing trawler in the North Sea just off Scotland. I was in my cabin. It was dark, cold, and the sea was very rough. It had been raining and very windy all day. It was at about midnight. I was afraid that we might sink. I had been sea-sick several times. There's nothing like the smell of vomit combined with the fear of seeing a ghost. I must have cried a little because I could feel the tears trickling down my leg.

Then I saw her. It was a female ghost. She stood there and said nothing. She reminded me of Gloria Gaynor.

 At first, I was afraid, I was petrified ... and now I am imagining the look on your face reading this!!!