Fr. Nicholas of Roman Miscellany put up this post about Fr. Saju George, the Dancing Jesuit.
Looking at the picture, I can't help wondering if Fr. Saju has taken the idea of rejecting clerical attire a little too far: I would never go so far as to say that a priest should always wear a cassock, or even a clerical shirt and collar, but I don't really want to be confronted with hairy chests and bare nipples at Mass...
...and then there is the question as to whether it is really appropriate to have anyone perform a dance more usually associated with Hindu temple prostitution as a Gospel meditation or thanksgiving after Communion.
Thursday, 22 June 2006
Tuesday, 20 June 2006
The Need for Fertility Treatment?
Listening to the radio this morning (I really shouldn't... it's invariably bad for my blood pressure) I was interested to hear that there is a population crisis in Europe: apparently not enough babies are being born, and this will result in an increasingly aging population being supported by a decreasing number of young workers.
Nothing new here. The bit that really had me gasping for breath was the proposed solution. Some mastermind suggested that if fertility treatment was offered to couples for free, the increased birth-rate would solve all the problems... and incidentally, the increased tax revenue would actually cover the cost of the treatment...
...I've had a blinder of an idea! How about we stop killing little babies in the hundreds of abortions that happen in Europe, and encourage infertile couples to adopt instead? We save the money from the surgical and pharmacological abortions, we save the money from the post-abortion counselling, we don't need to splash out any dosh for the fertility treatment AND we get the increased tax revenue from all those extra working people in a couple of decades.
...it's not exactly rocket science, is it?
Nothing new here. The bit that really had me gasping for breath was the proposed solution. Some mastermind suggested that if fertility treatment was offered to couples for free, the increased birth-rate would solve all the problems... and incidentally, the increased tax revenue would actually cover the cost of the treatment...
...I've had a blinder of an idea! How about we stop killing little babies in the hundreds of abortions that happen in Europe, and encourage infertile couples to adopt instead? We save the money from the surgical and pharmacological abortions, we save the money from the post-abortion counselling, we don't need to splash out any dosh for the fertility treatment AND we get the increased tax revenue from all those extra working people in a couple of decades.
...it's not exactly rocket science, is it?
Sunday, 18 June 2006
Happy Father's Day
Today is Father's Day in the UK. Unlike Mothering Sunday, which is a Church Feast Day, Father's Day is a piece of shameless commercialism aimed at increasing sales of beer, aftershave, chocolate (well, I suppose men like chocolate too... there's certainly lots of it on sale in Supermarkets with "Don't Forget Father's Day" plastered all over the shelves) and greetings cards.
I don't really have a problem with this sort of thing... though I draw the line at celebrating "Grandparents' Day". But it did occur to me that it would be a great day to say a "thank you" to our priests - our spiritual fathers.
I don't think we say "thank you" to them often enough, and we also take them for granted. This was brought home to me when I helped to start up a demonstration at the Chrism Mass at St. George's Cathedral, Southwark. It was quite a simple idea - a group of women from the diocese who wanted to show their loyalty to the Magisterium and their appreciation for everything that our priests do for the Church. As we handed out little prayer cards, one priest was almost in tears as he said that no-one had ever thanked him for being a priest before.
It's important. I have been privileged to meet many, many good and holy priests since my return to the Church. These dedicated, prayerful and hard-working men give up their lives for God and the Church - that's us. Without their self-sacrifice, there would be no Sacraments, no Church.
The prayer cards we gave out at last year's Chrism Mass had a quote from Pope John Paul II:
I don't really have a problem with this sort of thing... though I draw the line at celebrating "Grandparents' Day". But it did occur to me that it would be a great day to say a "thank you" to our priests - our spiritual fathers.
I don't think we say "thank you" to them often enough, and we also take them for granted. This was brought home to me when I helped to start up a demonstration at the Chrism Mass at St. George's Cathedral, Southwark. It was quite a simple idea - a group of women from the diocese who wanted to show their loyalty to the Magisterium and their appreciation for everything that our priests do for the Church. As we handed out little prayer cards, one priest was almost in tears as he said that no-one had ever thanked him for being a priest before.
It's important. I have been privileged to meet many, many good and holy priests since my return to the Church. These dedicated, prayerful and hard-working men give up their lives for God and the Church - that's us. Without their self-sacrifice, there would be no Sacraments, no Church.
The prayer cards we gave out at last year's Chrism Mass had a quote from Pope John Paul II:
"The priest is someone who, despite the passing of years, continues to radiate youthfulness, spreading it almost contagiously among those he meets along the way. His secret lies in his passion for Christ...So take the opportunity to wish your Parish Priest (and/or Curate) a Happy Father's Day.
"If he is able to offer himself as a gift, placing himself at the service
of anyone in need, his life takes on its true meaning."(Maundy Thursday, March 2005)
Tuesday, 13 June 2006
What About the Office?
What I really want to know is this: now there will be a new translation of the Missal, what about the Divine Office?
As I said in my last post, I don't actually speak Latin. The collects for saints days and seasonal propers are slightly different from the ones used at the Mass (of the relevant day) but similar enough for me to assume that they're actually translations of the same Latin prayer, and the phrasing is more elegant, so it's probably a better translation...
...the reason I need to know if a new translation is likely is purely and simply a financial one. The Divine Office is in 3 volumes. Each volume is about £50. My copies are about 13 years old, and because liturgical books and bibles always seem to be very badly bound, they are falling to bits. It's a bit distracting in prayer when your book suddenly disintegrates in your hands, and I'm easily distracted at the best of times! So I need to think about getting new copies...
...but £150 or thereabouts is rather a lot to spend if the whole thing is due for a re-vamp in the next year or so...
Any thoughts?
As I said in my last post, I don't actually speak Latin. The collects for saints days and seasonal propers are slightly different from the ones used at the Mass (of the relevant day) but similar enough for me to assume that they're actually translations of the same Latin prayer, and the phrasing is more elegant, so it's probably a better translation...
...the reason I need to know if a new translation is likely is purely and simply a financial one. The Divine Office is in 3 volumes. Each volume is about £50. My copies are about 13 years old, and because liturgical books and bibles always seem to be very badly bound, they are falling to bits. It's a bit distracting in prayer when your book suddenly disintegrates in your hands, and I'm easily distracted at the best of times! So I need to think about getting new copies...
...but £150 or thereabouts is rather a lot to spend if the whole thing is due for a re-vamp in the next year or so...
Any thoughts?
New Translations
There is an air of barely supressed excitement on the blogs and in the Catholic Press...
...well, ok, I'm exaggerating a little. Fine... I'm exaggerating a lot. But even I have noticed that rather a lot of people have made references to a new English translation of the Mass. And the upshot of it all seems to be that we shall soon be learning new versions of the prayers said at Mass. Or rather, we shall be learning the correct versions of the prayers said at Mass. About time too...
...Some time ago I managed to get my paws on an old Missal, and being the sort of person who reads instruction booklets, I settled down to have a good look at it. It has the Latin in one column, and the English in the next. Now, I don't actually know any Latin, but from attending the odd Mass at Westminster Cathedral, and from singing, I have gradually come to recognise the main prayers of the Mass: Confiteor, Gloria, Sanctus, etc. etc. So you can imagine my surprise when, finding the "familiar" Latin prayers, I noticed that the English translations were so very different from the phrases I was used to trotting out at church.
Take the Confiteor: the bit which I know simply as
...well, ok, I'm exaggerating a little. Fine... I'm exaggerating a lot. But even I have noticed that rather a lot of people have made references to a new English translation of the Mass. And the upshot of it all seems to be that we shall soon be learning new versions of the prayers said at Mass. Or rather, we shall be learning the correct versions of the prayers said at Mass. About time too...
...Some time ago I managed to get my paws on an old Missal, and being the sort of person who reads instruction booklets, I settled down to have a good look at it. It has the Latin in one column, and the English in the next. Now, I don't actually know any Latin, but from attending the odd Mass at Westminster Cathedral, and from singing, I have gradually come to recognise the main prayers of the Mass: Confiteor, Gloria, Sanctus, etc. etc. So you can imagine my surprise when, finding the "familiar" Latin prayers, I noticed that the English translations were so very different from the phrases I was used to trotting out at church.
Take the Confiteor: the bit which I know simply as
"I have sinned through my own fault,
in my thoughts and in my words,
in what I have done, and in what I have failed to do"
is actually translated in my old missal as:
Although this isn't a particularly good example, it still demonstrates that the translations we have been expected to use up until now have a real paucity of expression. Even allowing for the fact that the English language has changed over the past 50 years, I get the distinct impression that somewhere along the line we've been short-changed..."I have sinned exceedingly
in thought, word and deed,
through my fault, through my fault,
through my most grievous fault"
Monday, 12 June 2006
Photo Album
I finally managed to get my photos from Lourdes uploaded from my mobile phone (I don't have a digital camera)...
This is slightly more difficult than it might at first appear: my home computer was chucked out by Noah when he built the ark. It doesn't have the socket thingy (my use of technical terminology is somewhat limited... I blame the fact on my blonde hair) for sticking the phone's connection doobrey-whatsit into.
So, I have to upload the photos onto my school laptop. School computers are notoriously temperamental, and rarely up-to-date, so this is a major undertaking. However, I finally got the thing to work, more by luck than judgement.
The next step was to email the photos home - the school has a filter system which means I can't blog. I can't even look at a blog. On reflection, this is probably just as well...
Once the emails arrived, I downloaded the photos, and uploaded them onto the blog. Success! All of this is, of course, to explain why I didn't put the photos up when I got back from Lourdes just over a week ago!!
The first photo here actually is a little dark - it looked better on the phone. It is the spring uncovered by St. Bernadette when Our Lady appeared to her in the grotto at Massabielle. It's covered with glass or perspex, and the water is now piped to the baths and the drinking fountains. But there is something very moving about walking into the cave...
The mosaics inside the Rosary Basilica are really spectacular. The first time I saw the main mosaic of Our Lady, I found it very unsettling... it's partly the way she looms over you, and partly because the face is so very child-like. Once you remember that St. Bernadette described her as a girl of about 14 years old, it actually makes more sense. And now, I am very attached to this image.
This photo of the main basilicas taken from the esplanade shows how lucky we were with the weather... and no, I promise I haven't touched up the photos in any way!
Here's a photo of the grotto itself, showing the niche where Our Lady appeared to St. Bernadette. I think I took this one from the position of the plaque on the ground showing where St. Bernadette was kneeling, but I can't quite remember... next time I shall be more careful about labelling my photos!
This is slightly more difficult than it might at first appear: my home computer was chucked out by Noah when he built the ark. It doesn't have the socket thingy (my use of technical terminology is somewhat limited... I blame the fact on my blonde hair) for sticking the phone's connection doobrey-whatsit into.
So, I have to upload the photos onto my school laptop. School computers are notoriously temperamental, and rarely up-to-date, so this is a major undertaking. However, I finally got the thing to work, more by luck than judgement.
The next step was to email the photos home - the school has a filter system which means I can't blog. I can't even look at a blog. On reflection, this is probably just as well...
Once the emails arrived, I downloaded the photos, and uploaded them onto the blog. Success! All of this is, of course, to explain why I didn't put the photos up when I got back from Lourdes just over a week ago!!
The first photo here actually is a little dark - it looked better on the phone. It is the spring uncovered by St. Bernadette when Our Lady appeared to her in the grotto at Massabielle. It's covered with glass or perspex, and the water is now piped to the baths and the drinking fountains. But there is something very moving about walking into the cave...
The mosaics inside the Rosary Basilica are really spectacular. The first time I saw the main mosaic of Our Lady, I found it very unsettling... it's partly the way she looms over you, and partly because the face is so very child-like. Once you remember that St. Bernadette described her as a girl of about 14 years old, it actually makes more sense. And now, I am very attached to this image.
This photo of the main basilicas taken from the esplanade shows how lucky we were with the weather... and no, I promise I haven't touched up the photos in any way!
Here's a photo of the grotto itself, showing the niche where Our Lady appeared to St. Bernadette. I think I took this one from the position of the plaque on the ground showing where St. Bernadette was kneeling, but I can't quite remember... next time I shall be more careful about labelling my photos!
And finally, a shot of the Domaine area taken from the benches by the Forum Information.
As you can see, I haven't quite got the hang of how to position my photos in an interesting and varied way... I shall have to work on it! But I'm rather pleased with my dinky little mobile phone!
Persecution Complex ?
It's not that I'm paranoid, but...
I'm beginning to think that Blogger has it in for me. I think it senses that I know absolutely nothing about the codes used to create the blog, and it's decided to teach me a lesson. For some reason, when I try and look at the blog, the margin, with all my links and profile and everything appears to have disappeared.
I found it eventually, lurking with intent at the bottom of my blog, after all my posts... but it's not actually much use down there. My problem is that I don't know what I've done to make it go into hiding, or how to entice it back to its proper location. Even more confusing, I've been told that it appears completely normal by another blogger.
So it must be me... Blogger is out to get me....
I'm beginning to think that Blogger has it in for me. I think it senses that I know absolutely nothing about the codes used to create the blog, and it's decided to teach me a lesson. For some reason, when I try and look at the blog, the margin, with all my links and profile and everything appears to have disappeared.
I found it eventually, lurking with intent at the bottom of my blog, after all my posts... but it's not actually much use down there. My problem is that I don't know what I've done to make it go into hiding, or how to entice it back to its proper location. Even more confusing, I've been told that it appears completely normal by another blogger.
So it must be me... Blogger is out to get me....
Friday, 9 June 2006
Marriage
...No, not mine (I've taken private vows.)
I was invited to the wedding of the daughter of a friend of mine. Friday afternoon seems a slightly odd time to have a wedding, but it did cross my mind that it might have something to do with the football. I know very little about football (I even asked my Form Group to pick my team for the staff fantasy football league) but I gather that England are playing tomorrow... and the groom used to play: Chelsea was mentioned, but I don't know if this was their youth squad or whatever....
Anyway, I was able, by dint of shameless grovelling, to get the day off school - most of my classes have either left school or are on exam leave, so there wasn't much cover to arrange. I was also privileged to sing the Ave Maria (Schubert) during the signing of the register. I have to confess that I prefer the Bach/Gounod Ave Maria, but the bride wanted Schubert, and it's her big day, so Schubert it was!
Tomorrow, I get to continue the theme: another couple of friends are celebrating their 25th wedding anniversary. I'm not singing anything at this, though if they have any hymns at Mass I'll join in with gusto... however, it'll probably be lots of Latin motets, so I shall just sit back and enjoy the beautiful music, and let it raise my heart and mind to God.
I was invited to the wedding of the daughter of a friend of mine. Friday afternoon seems a slightly odd time to have a wedding, but it did cross my mind that it might have something to do with the football. I know very little about football (I even asked my Form Group to pick my team for the staff fantasy football league) but I gather that England are playing tomorrow... and the groom used to play: Chelsea was mentioned, but I don't know if this was their youth squad or whatever....
Anyway, I was able, by dint of shameless grovelling, to get the day off school - most of my classes have either left school or are on exam leave, so there wasn't much cover to arrange. I was also privileged to sing the Ave Maria (Schubert) during the signing of the register. I have to confess that I prefer the Bach/Gounod Ave Maria, but the bride wanted Schubert, and it's her big day, so Schubert it was!
Tomorrow, I get to continue the theme: another couple of friends are celebrating their 25th wedding anniversary. I'm not singing anything at this, though if they have any hymns at Mass I'll join in with gusto... however, it'll probably be lots of Latin motets, so I shall just sit back and enjoy the beautiful music, and let it raise my heart and mind to God.
Saturday, 3 June 2006
Pilgrim's Progress
Lourdes was wonderful: glorious sunshine, great food, good wine, congenial company...
The atmosphere is really special. Everyone is there for a common purpose. No-one bats an eyelid if you put on a mantilla (actually, most of the shops sell lots of different types!) Everyone prays. Actually, one of the most incongruous sights was on the last day in the Rosary Basilica: a woman proceded to make her way up the centre aisle on her knees... with a camera clasped in her right hand. And why not!
The queues for the women's baths are renowned for their length. One year I queued from 8:15am (the baths open at 9am) and at 11:15am I reached the outer vestibule. Realising that I would be late for the coach to the airport, I reluctantly had to leave.
This year, the queues have been more variable. I went on Tuesday morning at about 10:30am, fully expecting the queue to have been closed, but wanting to give it a go. To my surprise, the place was empty, and on my hesitation (I thought maybe it was completely finished) a brancardier shot out and practically dragged me to the door. The rest of the week I had longer to wait, but 2 hours was the longest. At least it gave me time to pray - although you are encouraged to compose your thoughts just before you get down into the water, the combination of a cold wet towel applied to your body just beforehand and water which is so cold you half expect to see icecubes floating in it often leaves you breathless and unable to say more than "Oh God!"
Despite that, it is one of the most moving experiences in Lourdes. It is daunting the first time (and never an "easy" experience, no matter how often you go) and there is a distinct element of penance involved in the mechanics, so to speak, but the feeling you get afterwards is truly indescribable.
Commercialism?
The only disadvantage in going on pilgrimage to Lourdes is that coming back can be a bit of a shock ! Driving to church this morning was a little surreal: not a single rosary or holy statue to be seen...At the risk of merely appearing to repeat what Fr. Tim over at Hermeneutic of Continuity said on the subject, I don't think you can call the streets lined with shops selling rosaries and statues commercialism - for me, the term implies reducing everything to profit-and-loss, and trying to fleece the suckers who fall for whatever line you're selling. The atmosphere in Lourdes is very different...
For a start, although each shop is selling basically the same things, there doesn't appear to be any of the cut-throat rivalry going on - none of the feeling of "we've got the same item as next door, only we're selling two for the price of one, and our one is better anyway, his is rubbish." The shop fronts are completely open, and different shopkeepers can often be seen on the pavements chatting to each other as their respective customers wander round inside. There's a sort of patience involved... there's no feeling that you're being dragged in off the street to visit one shop in particular, it's almost as if it is expected that, sooner or later, you'll end up visiting every shop.
This slightly laid-back attitude to browsing is emphasised by the layout of the town itself. There is a one-way system in operation in the streets near the Domaine, and on certain days in the month, the direction of travel is reversed so that everyone has a fair crack at the passing trade!
Another reason I don't think of this as commercialism is that the prices are so very reasonable!
Having said all this, the shop displays are really something to behold. Bet you didn't realise that the one statue you absolutely had to have was a luminous Virgin Mary. Fr. Tim tells me that he even spotted a statue of Pope Benedict XVI ! Now that's one I have to see!
Sunday, 28 May 2006
Holidays
It is gradually dawning on me that tomorrow I'm off on pilgrimage to Lourdes. I've been so caught up in various things going on at school that I hadn't actually been thinking any further ahead than 3:15pm on Friday (along with, I suspect, every other teacher in England, I always know exactly when the next holiday starts!)
I took the picture at the torchlight procession one evening last year.
Taking part in the procession in Lourdes is just such a boost for morale. Everyone is praying the rosary, and there are chants in between each of the decades, and during the choruses, the candles all get held up in the air. There is occasionally a moment of drama as one of the paper shields around the candle flames goes up in smoke, but it all adds to the atmosphere.
People are almost always polite and cheerful, putting up with minor inconveniences with good grace, and looking out for each other. It's also really great to see how the sick and disabled are put first... in the USSR there used to be special traffic lanes for the cars of the elite, and in the UK we have special lanes for buses and taxis: well, in Lourdes, there are wheelchair lanes... and believe me, getting run over by a brancardier pulling an invalid buggy is a distinct possibility if you are foolish enough to forget who has right of way!!
Sadly, despite the many beautiful places where one could celebrate Mass, there are a handful of rather ghastly locations - mostly in the newer buildings. However, we have arranged to have Mass in the more aesthetically pleasing chapels: Mass on Monday evening after our arrival is in the chapel of St Michael; we're in the Crypt on Tuesday morning, the chapel of St Gabriel on Thursday and in the Grotto itself for Mass on Friday morning.
The one blip (as far as I'm concerned) is Wednesday morning, when we join the International Mass in the Pius X Basilica. This Basilica is underground, and can seat 10,000 people or so. Apparently, when it was built, it was considered to be the latest thing, using pre-stressed concrete. The overall effect is one of having Mass in an underground car park. Lately there have been some additions - banners with some of the more modern saints - but it's still a car park. My objections to the location on aesthetic grounds have been firmly ignored: the International Mass is a major event, and as such, it forms part of the pilgrimage experience. To be fair, at least the 10,000 people present actually want to attend Mass, which means that the atmosphere is far better than some of the school Masses I have been forced to attend.
I doubt that I shall feel much like hunting for an internet cafe in amongst all the chapels, restaurants and shops selling rosaries and statues. So no more posts until I get back.
Friday, 26 May 2006
Hymn Lyrics to make you Weep
...Only this time with laughter! Given my previous posts on inclusive language in hymns and getting children to learn the traditional hymns, this offering from Fr. Nicholas at Roman Miscellany just had to get a mention...
Thursday, 25 May 2006
Feast of the Ascension
I never quite got the point of today's Feast: it seemed a bit harsh for the disciples, having gotten used to Jesus being around again, to have to see him disappear once more. And having to wait until Pentecost for the consolation of the Holy Spirit, well, that just seemed a trifle heartless...
So the sermon at this evening's Mass was food for plenty of thought: we celebrate Jesus' return to the Father because he redeems our human nature and raises it up so that we can share in his divinity.
There was also a warning about bringing Jesus down to our own level in an attempt to make him seem less remote... the timely reminder that Jesus is more fully human than any of us gives the lie to the often-repeated statement that we're falible, we're sinful, because "we're only human."
(Apologies to Fr. Tim if I misquoted him, but I've had a couple of Baileys since I got home!)
So the sermon at this evening's Mass was food for plenty of thought: we celebrate Jesus' return to the Father because he redeems our human nature and raises it up so that we can share in his divinity.
There was also a warning about bringing Jesus down to our own level in an attempt to make him seem less remote... the timely reminder that Jesus is more fully human than any of us gives the lie to the often-repeated statement that we're falible, we're sinful, because "we're only human."
(Apologies to Fr. Tim if I misquoted him, but I've had a couple of Baileys since I got home!)
Tuesday, 23 May 2006
Before the Moon and the Stars were made...
We had the last of our First Holy Communion Masses last Saturday. I've heard (and experienced) some real horrors over the years, but they are always done with reverence and sensitivity at my current Parish.
One of the highlights for me is being able to watch the children as they come up to the altar rails for Communion - I'm lucky enough to sit by the organ, on the sanctuary side of the rails (under the pretext of helping with the singing) and so I get the best view in the church.
The sermon is usually pretty stunning too. One theme which Fr Tim mentions quite often is enough to reduce me to tears: he points out to the children that Jesus has been waiting for them to be ready to receive him, and has been waiting for each one of us, has thought about each one of us since before the stars were made... wow.
One of the highlights for me is being able to watch the children as they come up to the altar rails for Communion - I'm lucky enough to sit by the organ, on the sanctuary side of the rails (under the pretext of helping with the singing) and so I get the best view in the church.
The sermon is usually pretty stunning too. One theme which Fr Tim mentions quite often is enough to reduce me to tears: he points out to the children that Jesus has been waiting for them to be ready to receive him, and has been waiting for each one of us, has thought about each one of us since before the stars were made... wow.
It was a theme which resonated in the homily of Pope Benedict XVI at his Inaugural Mass in April 2005:
And only where God is seen does life truly begin. Only when we meet the living God in Christ do we know what life is. We are not some casual and meaningless product of evolution. Each of us is the result of a thought of God. Each of us is willed, each of us is loved, each of us is necessary. There is nothing more beautiful than to be surprised by the Gospel, by the encounter with Christ. There is nothing more beautiful than to know Him and to speak to others of our friendship with Him.
Prayers Needed
...And while I'm on the subject of prayer, I'd appreciate one or two. I have an interview on Thursday afternoon.
Quite apart from the fact that I'm hopeless at interviews as I get incredibly nervous and tongue-tied, I have to give a five minute presentation on the cosmological argument for the existence of God.
Now, I "know" God exists. And I know the cosmological argument for his existence. But what I don't know right now is how to make the argument last for five whole minutes in such a way that the interviewing panel stay awake...
Aaaaarghhhhhh !
Quite apart from the fact that I'm hopeless at interviews as I get incredibly nervous and tongue-tied, I have to give a five minute presentation on the cosmological argument for the existence of God.
Now, I "know" God exists. And I know the cosmological argument for his existence. But what I don't know right now is how to make the argument last for five whole minutes in such a way that the interviewing panel stay awake...
Aaaaarghhhhhh !
Children's Prayers
One of the "problems" often mentioned in English state schools is the legal requirement for a daily act of worship. Many of my colleagues don't actually bother, unless Ofsted are visiting, and then suddenly books of prayers appear miraculously with long passages to be read and pondered over.
Time constraints are often cited as the biggest hurdle. We have only 20 minutes in the morning to get into the class, take down chairs, check and sign contact books, take the register, sort out uniforms, chase up absence notes, give out behaviour monitoring reports and listen to the tannoyed announcements.
Because of this, I prefer to use the "standard" prayers - the Lord's prayer, the Hail Mary and the Glory be to the Father, and occasionally I will recite one of the longer traditional prayers, and then conclude with one of the more familiar ones to be recited together as a class. I do use more variety in the prayers we have in my lessons, but I prefer to make sure we have a short daily prayer rather than a longer reflection just once in a blue moon.
But every so often, usually about once a week, I will ask the students if they have any prayer intentions, and these can be quite an eye-opener. The children (my Form class is Year 8, and so they are between 12-13 years old) ask for prayers for parents, friends, relatives and just a brief indication of why they need our prayers.
Today, for example, several children mentioned a friend of older siblings who died at the weekend (I realised that it was the same person each time, as we'd had a prayer at staff briefing), a friend's mother who had died of cancer, a parent going to hospital, a relative who was pregnant and various brothers and sisters who were sitting exams.
I think of it as a privilege to hear these prayers. And it really makes me sit back and count my blessings.
Time constraints are often cited as the biggest hurdle. We have only 20 minutes in the morning to get into the class, take down chairs, check and sign contact books, take the register, sort out uniforms, chase up absence notes, give out behaviour monitoring reports and listen to the tannoyed announcements.
Because of this, I prefer to use the "standard" prayers - the Lord's prayer, the Hail Mary and the Glory be to the Father, and occasionally I will recite one of the longer traditional prayers, and then conclude with one of the more familiar ones to be recited together as a class. I do use more variety in the prayers we have in my lessons, but I prefer to make sure we have a short daily prayer rather than a longer reflection just once in a blue moon.
But every so often, usually about once a week, I will ask the students if they have any prayer intentions, and these can be quite an eye-opener. The children (my Form class is Year 8, and so they are between 12-13 years old) ask for prayers for parents, friends, relatives and just a brief indication of why they need our prayers.
Today, for example, several children mentioned a friend of older siblings who died at the weekend (I realised that it was the same person each time, as we'd had a prayer at staff briefing), a friend's mother who had died of cancer, a parent going to hospital, a relative who was pregnant and various brothers and sisters who were sitting exams.
I think of it as a privilege to hear these prayers. And it really makes me sit back and count my blessings.
Monday, 22 May 2006
Bad vibes for the week ahead
I suspect that I'm in for a trying week...
Last night I couldn't get to sleep. Instead of giving it up as a lost cause at 4am (I have to get up at 5:30am) I continued to lie in bed. My last thought was something along the lines of "I really should get up now, or I'll sleep through the alarm clock..."
Next thing I know, it's 7.15am, and that means I've missed Mass. Bad start.
Despite the fact that South East England is suffering from drought, it is tipping down with rain. No doubt we will be told by the Water Board that it is the wrong sort of rain, and the hosepipe bans and similar restrictions will escalate, along with the water rates. The rain is so bad that the windscreen wipers make little headway, and I'm reduced to driving at 40 mph (the normal speed on that road is 70 mph). I get hemmed in by two articulated lorries which add to the visibility problems... and since my car crash last December when I was smashed into by a lorry, twice, and then overturned when I hit the central barrier, I get a little nervous around lorries. They're bigger than me, and this time my Guardian Angel might be napping.
So, what with the slower-than-usual journey, and the rain encouraging every parent to drive their little darlings to school, stopping in the middle of the road to say fond farewells at the school gates, I was five minutes late. Not good... the day feels like it's going downhill.
It was hot last week, so the boilers have been switched off. Naturally this means that the school is now freezing. The day slowly progresses...
The final straw is when one of my pupils objected to being ignored when he was trying to disrupt my lesson from outside the classroom. He decided to jam a chair under my door handle, and followed it up with one of the long tables used for packed lunches, which he jams between the top of the door and the chair... I could probably lever the door open with brute force, but decide that it's probably safer to ring for a Senior Manager. Luckily I have my mobile phone handy...!
I can't wait till Friday: roll on the Half-Term holiday!
Last night I couldn't get to sleep. Instead of giving it up as a lost cause at 4am (I have to get up at 5:30am) I continued to lie in bed. My last thought was something along the lines of "I really should get up now, or I'll sleep through the alarm clock..."
Next thing I know, it's 7.15am, and that means I've missed Mass. Bad start.
Despite the fact that South East England is suffering from drought, it is tipping down with rain. No doubt we will be told by the Water Board that it is the wrong sort of rain, and the hosepipe bans and similar restrictions will escalate, along with the water rates. The rain is so bad that the windscreen wipers make little headway, and I'm reduced to driving at 40 mph (the normal speed on that road is 70 mph). I get hemmed in by two articulated lorries which add to the visibility problems... and since my car crash last December when I was smashed into by a lorry, twice, and then overturned when I hit the central barrier, I get a little nervous around lorries. They're bigger than me, and this time my Guardian Angel might be napping.
So, what with the slower-than-usual journey, and the rain encouraging every parent to drive their little darlings to school, stopping in the middle of the road to say fond farewells at the school gates, I was five minutes late. Not good... the day feels like it's going downhill.
It was hot last week, so the boilers have been switched off. Naturally this means that the school is now freezing. The day slowly progresses...
The final straw is when one of my pupils objected to being ignored when he was trying to disrupt my lesson from outside the classroom. He decided to jam a chair under my door handle, and followed it up with one of the long tables used for packed lunches, which he jams between the top of the door and the chair... I could probably lever the door open with brute force, but decide that it's probably safer to ring for a Senior Manager. Luckily I have my mobile phone handy...!
I can't wait till Friday: roll on the Half-Term holiday!
Sunday, 21 May 2006
Cats Rule
As a woman who has a cat, and more importantly, as a woman whose cat knows exactly how to make me rush around supermarkets finding exactly the right catfood (which is invariably not the same catfood as the last time I went to the supermarket), I found the following item from Happy Catholic a real treat ...
On a Mission
Well, I've done my bit to help stuff up the DVC opening weekend figures: I went with a friend to see Mission Impossible 3 - which was on 4 screens at Purley Way, Croydon, despite having been out for a while. Very enjoyable. Even more enjoyable was the fact that the DVC for its opening weekend only appeared to be on in two screens...
I really shouldn't gloat ...
... well, just a little ...!
I really shouldn't gloat ...
... well, just a little ...!
Saturday, 20 May 2006
Traditional Hymns in School
I used to teach Science, and although I miss the fun and games I used to have with some of the more interesting practical sessions, one thing I don't miss is the relentless pressure exerted by the need to cover the syllabus.
My A level and AS level Psychology students have to work to pretty tight specifications because of the exam pressure, and if I had any GCSE classes for RE, they would be under the same constraint. But at Key Stage 3 (that's Years 7-9 in secondary school, or 11-14 year olds) there isn't the same sort of pressure, although I am expected to follow the scheme of work; and so, I occasionally take a lesson or two to go "off message."
I get very annoyed by the fact that the only hymns the children are ever exposed to in school "liturgies" are the teeth-grindingly awful standard 70s rubbish like "Bind us together" with the excuse that "the kids don't know any of the traditional, old fashioned hymns, and the words are unfamiliar ..." usually followed by, "and anyway, the young people don't like to sing ..."
So, for example, I had one lesson at the beginning of May where I asked 2 volunteers to go and pick daisies from the playing field outside the classroom. They made a small daisy chain, and I lit candles and crowned the statue of Our Lady. I also taught the children the Marian hymn "Bring flowers of the fairest" (I put the words up on PowerPoint, and went through the meaning of some of the unfamiliar words and phrases) and we all then sang the hymn (yes, everyone, even the boys, and no, I didn't need to threaten them with death first) much to the consternation of the English class next door. We finished off with some prayers.
Today, two of my classes were treated to a brief explanation of the reasons behind Henry VIII's split with Rome. I got to tell them about the "kindness" of the King in having St. John Fisher and St. Thomas More beheaded... the kids weren't too convinced, until I went into the details of what being hanged, drawn and quartered actually entailed. They were absolutely horrified (the scientific training I had comes to the fore here, as I give graphic details!) So I think that, for next lesson, we shall go "off message" again, and look at some of the other English Martyrs. I feel a need to sing a few verses of "Faith of our Fathers"...
My A level and AS level Psychology students have to work to pretty tight specifications because of the exam pressure, and if I had any GCSE classes for RE, they would be under the same constraint. But at Key Stage 3 (that's Years 7-9 in secondary school, or 11-14 year olds) there isn't the same sort of pressure, although I am expected to follow the scheme of work; and so, I occasionally take a lesson or two to go "off message."
I get very annoyed by the fact that the only hymns the children are ever exposed to in school "liturgies" are the teeth-grindingly awful standard 70s rubbish like "Bind us together" with the excuse that "the kids don't know any of the traditional, old fashioned hymns, and the words are unfamiliar ..." usually followed by, "and anyway, the young people don't like to sing ..."
So, for example, I had one lesson at the beginning of May where I asked 2 volunteers to go and pick daisies from the playing field outside the classroom. They made a small daisy chain, and I lit candles and crowned the statue of Our Lady. I also taught the children the Marian hymn "Bring flowers of the fairest" (I put the words up on PowerPoint, and went through the meaning of some of the unfamiliar words and phrases) and we all then sang the hymn (yes, everyone, even the boys, and no, I didn't need to threaten them with death first) much to the consternation of the English class next door. We finished off with some prayers.
Today, two of my classes were treated to a brief explanation of the reasons behind Henry VIII's split with Rome. I got to tell them about the "kindness" of the King in having St. John Fisher and St. Thomas More beheaded... the kids weren't too convinced, until I went into the details of what being hanged, drawn and quartered actually entailed. They were absolutely horrified (the scientific training I had comes to the fore here, as I give graphic details!) So I think that, for next lesson, we shall go "off message" again, and look at some of the other English Martyrs. I feel a need to sing a few verses of "Faith of our Fathers"...
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