DIARY: Ruminations, Occasional thoughts & happenings - as they arise
A Great Time of the Year - 4 December 2004
Hello
there people,
It’s a great time of the year –
despite some grey, drear days and the agony of frozen fingers after scraping
ice from car windows. The other morning I
was in such agony. Gloves? Who ever
heard of gloves? Echoes down the years,
“Michael! Wear your gloves!” I
was always contemptuous of my mother’s warnings, in a young, manly way -
only now realise the love that lay behind them.
Ignorant wee sod!
Anyway. It’s a great time of
the year – despite the weather and near despairing anger and impatience at
rote marketing of Christmas cheer – Yuck!
As if the only thing that matters is Sales.
It’s a collective madness that afflicts the rich nations of the world - so
far removed from real life.
But I suppose that despite the irritation of piped music, false Santa’s and
deliberate invasion of young minds by ruthless advertisers I do occasionally
feel a lifting of the heart.
I better tell you why – so you can get on with the shopping!
In three days time I am 72! Seventy-two!
I can hardly believe it! How the
hell did I get so old, so fast?
In my head I’m only 24, permanently – some friends say only about 4
- permanently! But they don’t mean it, I think.
Despite reluctance to accept creaky bones and diminished energy I appreciate
the mystery of time. I do
actually celebrate its passage – the
fact that one moment I was not and the next moment I was, and still am,
growing, developing and about to shrink into obscurity, head towards death.
Don’t turn your mind away! It’s
a fact, even less desirable than dark, frozen days and piped music, but it’s
unavoidable, and I experience a frisson of excitement at the thought, a small
coolness of the heart, like the flutter of wings, ready for the off, full of
excitement that at the thought of being lifted into unimaginable greatness and
beauty.
It cannot now be long delayed, that moment when I will become fully aware of
what life really means, for though I know little about it I have come to
appreciate that here and now we live with both natural and supernatural life,
through the gift of the Christ – the man who is above all men.
So on the 7th of December I celebrate the day of my birth - and I
have even more to remember, for on the 8th of December I celebrate
the birth of my young son Conor, who will have been in existence for all of 23
years. Just as important as 72!
And there’s yet another reason why the 8th is important.
It’s the feast day of the woman who said to young Bernadette
Soubirous, "Que
soy era Immaculada Councepciou."
“I am the Immaculate Conception.”
This was in 1858, four years after the church proclaimed that Mary, the mother
of Jesus, was conceived free of
all sin, in her mother’s, Anna’s, womb.
A suitable vessel for the greatness and goodness of God.
It happens that in the 1960’s I found myself in the northern French town of
Nevers, returning from an adventurous trip to Lourdes in one of those tiny
bubble-cars of the day. I sat
with Chris - the 6’5”, 20-stone friend
who, laughably, owned the car - in a steamy café, where I got into
conversation with a couple of diners. Despite
my bad French a lady in the party understood when I said “J’etais desole!”
at not being able to find the body of St. Bernadette
– for I had heard it had been miraculously preserved.
“Mais monsieur!” she said, her eyes lighting, “Elle
est ici!
Autour du coin !”
And sure enough, around the corner was a church, and in the church was
Bernadette’s body, preserved from corruption.
I
don’t necessarily believe it was a miraculous preservation.
These things can be quite natural. But I do know from medical
depositions that no preservatives were used.
I also know for certain that her face has been made-up – but what
self-respecting lady would not do that, for an important occasion.
In
this case death? For Bernadette
is certainly dead. “As
dead as a doornail”, was my thought as I sat looking at her robed
body, in a glass case, in a side chapel.
She is also very beautiful.
Here’s a photo.
To me she looked as if life could flow back into her body at any moment, and
she would sit up and smile.
In time I believe she will.
And so will I – when all the dusty bits of my body are collected together
and re-animated.
I’ll see you there!
This is another of my reasons for feeling that this advent season is so great
- and I also look forward to seeing my two sons during Christmas, as well my
little granddaughter of course! That’s
enough joy to swamp, almost obliterate, the marketing frenzy sickness.
God help us all.
I
hope that you also will have great reasons for celebration.
