OF YOU MY HEART HAS SPOKEN

" Wake up in a hotel, s taring at the ceiling" The last two lines of Marianne Faithful's 'Times Square' echoing in my head, her deep, throaty, lived-in voice sings the beginning of this sunny Saturday morning in Greenock. April 23rd, second anniversary of the death of my friend Father Michael Clarke.

  Everlasting Joy on their faces! This phrase from the Prophet Isaiah comes to mind as I reflect on Easter weekend. Maybe not everlasting but joy all the same, an abundance of it flowing out of the church on Easter Sunday. This is what I saw coming towards me as I stood outside after Mass. And, whatever doubts I might have about myself, I allow a rejoicing to rise in me. It is the rejoicing of a father witnessing the happiness of his family. It’s not about me but them, or more correctly it's about us together. It's Easter Monday now. Eton Mess and a cappuccino in hazy sunshine by the sea. Kind, comforting food. A feeling of tired contentment. Having travelled to two funerals in the Manchester area in the space of five days has taken its toll. It’s about a 500-mile round trip. But of course, worth it! Pallottine Sister Hedwig whom I first met almost fifty years ago, Hedwig who went as a missionary to Tanzania at the age of 62, spending 23 years there! And my cousin Mary Monson

  “Jesus was left alone with the woman .” This is a very striking moment, the silent wordless moment when accusation, judgement and condemnation have dispersed. He, still in the bent down position, looks up at her, symbolic of what the Incarnation means. God has bent down to us who have gone astray, taking the position of a slave, looking up to us who look up to Him in prayer.