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Showing posts from November, 2013


I do not ask to see the distant scene;
My steps, like streams, or tears unthinking flow
Towards far off, believed-in pastures green
Yet God above hath sent good friends below.

The sleep of the just

A friend recently told me that I shouldn't be surprised to find that one gets tired being good. He said that personally he found it very hard work.  He reminded me that St Paul urged us: "brothers, never tire of doing what is right." "But being bad, " he said, "can be tiring in its own way ... and at the end of it there is no rest."  As the saying goes,  I thought, 'no rest for the wicked.'  I had never, in fact, thought about the true meaning of that saying. And then I remembered a tapestry in the Castle in Angers - an enormous work of art displaying scenes from the Book of the Apocalypse. Coincidentally, I saw it last year, with the same friend. It contained a representation of the Sleep of the Just. In this month of November, as we pray for the dead, it is a consoling thought that we too, after our labours, may hope one day to 'rest in peace.'