No, none of that, just the Mass and that sung with quiet dignity and reverence, beautiful, well done. After the sacred mysteries we moved next door to the church hall for a Chick-fil-A box lunch and I took the opportunity to admire the church's attractive "Garth," which means "enclosed quadrangle" and glowing stained glass in the church itself.
Uplifting, on both counts, and the Chick boxes weren't bad either, nice. Then, lunch over, we heard a presentation on the recent goings on at GAFCON and I, for one, was left wondering if the Global South Primates have the mettle to squeeze the trigger and declare themselves formally out of communion with Justsin Welby.
Justsin, you may recall, has joyfully embraced the rainbow while pretending not to, and this has enraged our dusky heteronormative brethren. Quite right too, let's see if African sound and fury equates to actual thunder. If it does, I'm prepared to be amazed. Watch this space.
Then, business over, I wandered down to the stream at the bottom of the churchyard, overgrown with riotous spring growth. And there was the water, untouched, it felt, by the march of time. I wanted to fish it but didn't have a rod, maybe next time.
God bless,
LSP
