Passion Sunday, or Palm Sunday

To me, this is one of the saddest days in the Church calender, apart from Maundy thursday and Good Friday. I think this is because Jesus was let down so badly by his disciples. He knew that he was going to die a hugely painful death, and wanted his friends to support him, by keeping watch while he prayed for the strength he needed. But they kept falling asleep, and not only this, he knew they would desert him when he needed them most.
He must have been a hugely charismatic figure, with crowds of people gathering to listen to him, and the stories of his miracles must have made him a spectacle of hero worship although became his downfall as he himself knew it would (by making him a target of jealousy and suspicion).
Yet, at the critical moment, when he needed his friends most, they betrayed and deserted him. How many times have we been unpopular because of our belief? How many times have friends been unsupportive and surprised us by this? I think when bad things do happen to us, really bad things, the way we get comfort is knowing that Jesus knew exactly what we are feeling, even if his experience was different, he really knew the meaning of betrayal and pain. I think this is the answer to the faltering of faith we have when bad things do happen, 'How can God let such things happen?'.
I mean things like, when the good die young and the bad folk seem to hang around forever causing trouble? This is the answer, keep your faith because God is with you through your pain.
I think this is one reason why he brought Jesus into the world too, as otherwise, how could we identify with God in our darkest moments. When I think about God, reading bible stories I suspect that he grew and changed and had to alter tactics many times to manage the evolving people. I wish he would enforce stuff in a similar way now, I guess the prophets are unneeded now the Son of Man has changed the world forever.

Gulag Voices made me count my blessings...

After much pre-planning, chnaging my work/childcare days and the dentist, to achieve an important appointment this week...After over a week of gruelling tummy bug for the baby, night and day washing, cleaning, bathing, my older son became sick with terrible cold and cough on Wednesday. High temperature, the lot. Up 1am to 4am this morning, me sponging him with a cool cloth. I thought I'd got used to the lack of sleep but waves of nausea kept flowing over me whilst laying listening to his racking cough.
So all the plans are kyboshed too, I can't keep the appointment (my only hope, my mother has the sickness bug now, too, and with her not being too robust please to keep her safe), and still have to pay for the childcare I planned so carefully, and now can't see the dentist for ages.
Of course I'm not moaning about the boys being ill, I would cut off my right arm for them and it doesn't matter how little sleep I get. Even when all my letters and numbers  get mixed up when I write.

Especially when I read a piece my Mum had cut out for me in the paper, about the book just written called Gulag Voices. 'Gulag' is an acronym for what was broadly the Soviet slave labour camp system. It was terrible but at it's worst under Stalin.Torture, astonishing cruelty, gang rape, and starvation were the norm. So humbling, makes you feel so outraged, angry, hopeless and devastatingly sad.

I will describe the worst one for me, because the lady in question, Hava Volovich described her baby daughter reminding me of my youngest son, and what happened to her was unspeakable, and of course not at all an isolated case.

Hava was a newspaper sub-editor, (always a dangerous job in countries with unscrupulous governments)imprisoned for being publicly critical of the treatment of Ukranian peasants. She was 21, and was one of the tens of thousands of young prisoners to become pregnant and give birth in the camp.
Prison nurseries existed but because of punishing regimes, starvation and cruelty, the children often died. She worked in the forest felling trees in the day and at night, shared a tiny room with 2 other mothers. She brushed the bedbugs off her baby by night, and by day had to leave the babies with women who they knew would take the food out of the children's mouths.
'Every night for a year, I stood at my child's cot, picking off the bed bugs and praying, begging God to prolong my torment by 100 years if it meant I wouldn't be parted from my daughter.'
Eleanor had just started walking and talking when they were transferred to the 'mother's camp' in a freezing cold freight car. She saw her baby turn from a chubby little angel with golden curls to a pale ghost with blue shadows under her eyes and sores on her lips. Through wretched illness, she had to bribe the guards with firewood to see her daughter outside normal hours.
But the things she saw..Nurses shoving and kicking children out of bed before washing them with ice cold water. She saw a nurse grab the nearest baby, tie back the arms and cram hot porridge down the throat.
'My little Eleanor began to fade faster. 'Mama, want home', she cried one evening, her little body covered with mysterious bruises'. On the last day of her life, she could not even stand being breast fed, the description of pain is heart rending.
'In the evening, when I came back to my little bundle of firewood her cot was empty. I found her... in the morgue among the corpses of adult prisoners...she had spent one year and four months in the camp and died on March 3rd 1944'. I've had to mop my eyes so many times writing this, because I can't see the keyboard. It makes me hold my children fiercely close and defend them like a lioness, even more.

I hope I'm not breaching any copyright laws. My Dad was in a Russian POW camp and spoke very little about it. His friend, Roman Rodziewicz, a noted war hero, (and involved in the film Major Hubal, 1973, because of his real-life involvement) told my mother that he'd tried to drive a nail in his own head, due to the brutal treatment by the Gestapo and in Auswitch, Germany.
You can not even call some people animals, animals can't be this evil. People who endured these camps, slavery, war crimes in the past and present must have surely already been in hell or purgatory now and go to paradise no question. It must be the case of, Happy are the poor in Spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven, a huge understatement in some cases.

Mothers and Sons, and Attila the Stockbroker

There was a great programme on Radio 4 this week, with Jenny Murray and included Dr Miriam Stoppard, about the mother/son relationship. I had to identify with much of what was said, including one description of how special the relationship is.
At one point, JM remarked, 'How are we going to get through this without bursting into tears?', which made me laugh because tears were already rolling down my face making white lines down my hastily applied 'bronze' face powder. This is always scrubbed on at top speed in the mornings, accompanied by a sinking, 'Oh Lord, I'm late' feeling.
The programme discussed the mother in law aspect of the relationship, which can be a really touchy subject in some families, and so much of what I worry about for the future of my sons.

One point that was discussed that I pondered on and now come to a conclusion for myself..is the love unconditional. I think as they get older (and develop behaviour issues at times), yes the love is unconditional but approval is conditional.

Attila the Stockbroker read out a poignant and very touching eulogy he'd written about his mother, well worth a listen. He obviously bursts with pride about her part assisting the scientists to crack codes at Bletchley Park during WW2, and I totally identify with this, being so humbled and having so much respect for my parents' very different War experiences. My late father was a Polish prisoner of war in Russia and carried the scars from shot wounds suffered during the war on his body and head. He was also at Monte Casino. My mother was younger and endured the war as a child, it ended her education and scattered her family.

PS On a totally different note, why are some programmes on tv obsessed with bonking? If you leave the telly on it appears unnanounced at any time, my 5 year old thinks I have a nervous tic, jumping to the remote to switch over all the time, even in the afternoon. I think it's a good filler of time when the story is weak, plus it's bound to sell but can't we have a choice to opt in instead of out? Sure, you have the option to 'not watch', but as I don't have the time or inclination to peruse the pogramme guide to scan for adult content per day, I'm at a disadvantage. No wonder tv is more often off than on here.

Adam Ant

On the Ropes on Radio 4 on a Tuesday can either be cringe or very good. Max Mosely was cringe. A self indulgent, selfish and self deceiving person (in addition to deceiving his wife of course). Not that I should be judging anyone, as a Christian but everything that came out of his mouth made me really sad, and mad.
Adam Ant, or Stuart Goddard, on the other hand made me feel sad but in a good way. He came across as a decent bloke really, who tried his best and cracked under the hard work and pressure from the record company, earning only 9% profits in the process...
Probably still a decent wage but seems awful whan you listen to what he went through as a result.
It tickled me when he referred to the mental institution he'd been in as a 'nut house', and was rebuked by John Humphries. After all, he'd been committed to the place so he can call it what he wants, in my view. What did annoy me was when JH called Bipolar disorder a disease, and SG did pick him up on that.

What was so sad about it all is that people like him can be very creative and productive, then they crack and are totally helpless in some awful situation they didn't want. They have to deal with the repercussions and stigma forever.
Mental illness is so misunderstood. It seems on the increase, maybe due to the pressures and pace of life. The mentally ill ae treated like cattle and forced to take medication that has awful side effects. It may have the desired effect in one way (stopping dangerous behaviour, keeping the patient quiet, lessening the 'nuisance' factor) but the long term health and wellbeing of the patient seem almost never to be taken into account. The description of what SG experienced sounds appalling and I know that it's not an isolated case. I hope he can acheive what he wants, and that is never to be in that vulnerable state again. Let's hope for a better future for all mentally ill people, and better treatment.

On a lighter note, one lunchtime this week, I saw a van with the logo advertising 'Photography at heights'. It had all kinds of equipment strapped to the top. You could only imagine the stuff they did, from mountain tops etc. Then the guy stepped out of the van carrying a little step ladder, all of 2 steps. He climbed to the very top of these and took a picture of a sign face in a car park. Just wish I'd had a discreet way of taking a photo.

Pope Joan and 'The Natwest Three'

There was a very entertaining programme on Radio 4, I think yesterday, on the way to work. I need to research it, but there is a new book out retracing the Papal line back to way back when (I told you that I need to research it!).

Anyway, the main subject of the programme was Pope John, whose dates of reign I can't say at the moment. He turned out to be a woman, Joan, and, oops, gave birth in public view. This, of course was a huge scandal and was much documented, although I think it was said that there is no concrete proof of her existence.

What really made me chuckle was that, after Pope Joan, there was a chair made for the ordination of subsequent Popes, with a hole in it. Allegedly, the Popes-to-be had to sit butt neckid on this seat, and an official had to reach beneath the hole to feel for testicals...when testicals were felt, the official cried out to the expectant crowd, 'He has testicles!'.
Whereupon, the crowd would respond, 'God be praised!'.

The comment made on the radio to this was, apparently Pope Alexander the ?th, who had fathered many children, was also supposed to have been in the time when this was practice.  It was remarked that, it was difficult to imagine that he had had to be subjected to such undignified groping...Classic.

This morning, in 'On the Ropes', John Humpries gave one of the 'Natwest Three' a good grilling. The guy has written a book.  This was almost transparently done to overcome huge costs incurred by employing lawyers to fight his case before and during the imprisonment of the three (who were implicated in the fall of Enron). Excellent stuff and well worth a listen. I had to give it to the 'grilled one', he took it on the chin and only once started to get really defensive, which was swiftly fielded by JH.

Pout for all you're worth!

A busy and pleasant Sunday. After getting back home mid afternoon and rushing round to put dinner on, my 5 year old son was extremely quiet upstairs. 1% of the time this happens he is asleep in bed but only after a massive tantrum. Usually the quiet gives me a feeling of impending doom...Anything could have happened up there, usually taking up to an hour to clear up. Last time he'd emptied all his moon sand all over the carpet and bed.

I took my sorted washing up to his room and hesitated outside...no noise at all.
I peered expectantly around the door at the bed, but it was flat. not much mess either..I felt a bit worried so hot-footed up the other side of the house and heard a little noise from the bathroom. As I peered round I was shocked..there he was in his altogether with what appeared to be red stuff all around his mouth, and all over everywhere else!! I gathered myself to realise that he had rummaged in my make up bag and was experimenting with my coral coloured lippy. I was so releived to see it wasn't a horrific accident with the nail scissors that I laughed. He laughed too, relieved that I hadn't gone hairless. This is why I get some of my stuff from the £1 shop!

'How do I get it off from round my mouth?', he asked..He'd been trying to tidy up his lip job which had been generously applied all over his face. He's also applied it thickly under his armpits, a la roll on deoderant.

Funnily enough, my 19 month old is also very interested in my make up. I will have to get them both demonstrating on my Avon lady round...

Things that puzzle me about the Church

At Mass several weeks ago (a big traditional Church with the 'Head' priest and two others) it was announced that one of the priests was entering Holy Life in his 60's. This is very unusual at this age, normally it's younger. My immediate thought was, ' The man is a priest, surely that means he already is in Holy Life? Apparently not, this man is going into a Monastry. Now that surely is Holy Life. I saw the big Cahoona priest in Tesco the other morning and honestly, if I'd not known him I would not have thought, 'Oh, a priest', as you would exprect.
He was just wearing a ski jacket, no dog collar in sight, which is fair enough but led me to wonder if priests think their job ends at a certain time like office hours.

I'd always thought not, but then you wonder about this huge problem of child abuse in the Catholic church. I've asked my originally C of E mother, 'Why do you not hear of this problem in the C of E? Is it because of the choice of marriage there?'
This is doubtful to me, as I can bear witness to many stories of married or partnered men abusing their own and other children, so how could this be the case?

My mother thinks that, as the C of E is much smaller and, of course, is the national Church, you may not hear about it as freely.

The problem the Catholic church faces has crippled it's growth, although not the faith of the Catholics. It's a total shame. I always think, how can even a 'normal' bog standard bloke even think of looking at a child in such a way, let alone abuse. It's so frightening. But a priest....I mean, it's not that easy to get into priesthood, and surely you must believe in the teachings, so how can they go so totally opposite to what they are supposed to stand for? Are they evil or just extremely weak people?
I pray that this Pope all those in power make some choices that will obliterate this issue.