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Sense and nonsense from Germany

"We can talk a lot about God, and in the end, do so without faith", said Cardinal Mueller a couple of weeks before the recent Synod on the Family in Rome. It is the most sensible observation I've noted out of all the soundbites over the last month on the subjects of divorce and homosexual relationships.

Meanwhile Cardinal Kasper seeks to sideline the bishops of Africa in favour of his own personal progressive agenda. He wants to fudge the Church's teaching on a whole raft of issues.

How can these two men come up with such different opinions when faced with the same pastoral realities in Germany? Could it be something to do with the fact that Mueller has actually spent a lot more time with ordinary Catholics and so knows something about the real challenges of Christian life for ordinary people? 

Mueller has 8 or 9 years experience in parishes, 16 as a theology professor and then ten as diocesan bishop, all after the Second Vatican Council. He was also a pupil of Gustavo…

Single ticket

Our friends, I hear, are those who know us well
And who, in spite of knowing, love us still.
It is a bitter course when all is known,
When still we love, without return, alone.

Seeing the Tapestry at Angers for a second time

On seeing the Peaceful face of God and the Sleep of the Just
In the Tapestry of the Apocalypse at the Castle of Angers
Was weighed down,
Weary, with worldly woe
When wondrous
Warp and weft
Won me. Oh to sleep so,
Sweetest, sainted
Sleep! Then to awake in
Soaring, searing sunlight
Of pure, perfected love. Golden Jerusalem! With the love of friends
All around,
And beautiful,
Beloved
Lord Christ
Woven into
Everything,
And forever
Before my eyes,
Blessing me
In bliss. March 2014 

Springtime hope

Silent no more in yet naked boughs
Perch pigeons, courting; while starlings, swifts
Rival rooks and crows
In skilful springtime song:
Not stinting in their lilting, warbling, chirping.
Gone the cold cruelty of dark days,
The silent brooding,
Interminable rain, thick clouds that
Mar sight of future joys. But now, at last,
Eternal summer is promised by the shout of yellow daffodils.