Feed Your Head...

....H here!

Yes, there has been some silence the distaff end for a while. A bit bruised certainly from the whole Parish Council vs. Colonel X and his 'arrest the Rector's wife' endeavour.

Time indeed to keep one's head below parapet level for a while it best seemed. PP and I did discuss this and, though of course not bound by the masculine imperative, I have to admit that there has been more gold in silence than silver in speaking out.

But here we are again as stand-in. Reason being poor dear PP has spiritually departed into his traditional complete panic and pandemonium over that most sacred festival of Easter.

When I say 'panic and pandemonium' I am not referring to any fundamental anxiety about just what to preach on an Easter Sunday, or how to handle seasonal converts to the Faith who clearly are seeking nothing more than securing a primary school place for their second youngest.

No, nothing so easy or profane as that. Poor - nay wondrous - fellow, he simply cannot publicly cope with the sheer horror then magnificence of first death on a Cross then the Resurrection.

You can't really fault him. Stop a moment - dare one? - to consider that terrible moment, that fearful death, the empty despair of the Apostles, the wretched pain of Mary - 'Good' Friday (we must call it that or else we would never stop weeping for its terrible agony) - the silence of that first dawn of the Sabbath with all hope gone, then strangely, unbelievably sudden good news ('gospel') of the Risen Lord.

No wonder perhaps one could hear him now up in the study, head buried deep into a St. Bernard homily yet also with Jefferson Airplane blasting mega-loud (beyond E even) from the stereo.

If Easter doesn't scare you witless then nothing could or should.

I can see his point. In fact, there is no other point.