I was amused by the item on the news the other day, serious though it was, that, after water sprinklers had failed to do the job, the authorities in New Zealand were using 15 minutes of Barry Manilow music on a loop to try and disperse anti-vaccine protestors. Poor Barry. I was never a big fan but I thought he had a few decent songs, and I could think of worse music I could choose – heavy metal, for example. Without a doubt, Black Sabbath and Iron Maden on a loop would get rid of me in seconds. Also, until recently, Father Gareth singing loudly in the shower through the wall from me, especially after a Welsh rugby victory, would have had me heading out for a long walk until he was finished.
It reminded me of the story of the Church of Scotland minister; the Episcopalian presbyter, and the Catholic priest, discussing their mutual problem of pigeons in the church loft, and how to disperse them. The Church of Scotland minister said he had tried everything – noise, sprays, cats – but nothing seemed to shift them. The Episcopalian presbyter said he had paid dearly for the attic to be fumigated, but they still didn’t go away. The Catholic priest then said that, while he had suffered from that problem some time back, he simply Baptized and Confirmed the pigeons, and they hadn’t been seen since.
Sadly, there is more than just a grain of truth in that story. Last December we celebrated the Sacrament of Confirmation in St. Mungo’s and, at this present time, we are having our God Squad sessions in preparation for 1st Reconciliation next week, and then, that will be closely followed by God Squad sessions in preparation for 1st Holy Communion. They were, and are all lovely children, great to work with, full of joy to be making another step on their journey of faith, and, we can only hope and pray that, going forward, we will see them coming to the church regularly with their families, and being a vital part of our parish family of faith.
As you may have picked up from previous Logs, every Friday night in Bishopbriggs, for the Passionist community, is takeaway night. With liturgical precision, we generally follow a three-week cycle of Chinese, Indian, and Fish and Chips. However, I am beginning to wonder if I should give up on the Indian food. A couple of weeks ago, I told you the story of how, just after our Indian take-away, I took a mad notion to reorganize the furniture in my room. The update on that is that, while at the time of writing, I only had two drawers sticking out that I couldn’t get to fit back properly, I now, in my attempts to remedy the situation, have four drawers sticking out. It’s not so bad if I keep my eyes above a certain height and don’t look at them. And then, last Friday, as we cleared up after our Indian meal, I took the empty packaging out to the bins in the yard. I threw up the lid of the bin but then, before I had the chance to disperse my load, a gust of wind caught the lid and brought it back down on my forehead. It meant that I was celebrating the weekend Masses with an open wound on my forehead. I was tempted to say that Father Antony had given me a Glasgow kiss, but then I owned up to my fight with the wheely bin, and the wheely bin won. To be fair, though, the wheely bin is bigger than me. But it does seem that I do daft things after an Indian meal.
Apart from that we are all fine. With Father Antony and myself both away for meetings next week, Father Frank Trias will look after the place for a few days, and so we welcome him and thank him for helping us out. Father Justinian continues to keep remarkably well as the oldest man in our Passionist Province of St. Patrick. Father John’s arrival is getting nearer.
protect yourselves, protect your loved ones, protect others, and protect Christ in your lives.