Dear Friends,

 

My letter to you this month was going to be a carefree affair, reflecting what for many of us, we hope, will be the relaxed holiday mood of August.

My own mood, however, as I sit down to write this, is far from care-free.

July is drawing to a close – at last. On July 2nd, I met up with my dear friend Julie for lunch in Bristol. She and I trained together for ordination, and became the firmest of friends during our two years at Trinity College; we were the naughty pair who kept a regular supply of gin and tonic in our study, which was a place of refuge for any of the younger students who were finding the going tough. We were ordained together in 2000, and our friendship has deepened throughout our differing experiences of parish ministry. In addition, we share a birthday at the end of June, so one of the purposes of meeting up was to swap cards and presents, as well as to catch up with news and share our moans and giggles. I still have up her beautiful card to me, which showed a frivolous pair of high-heeled shoes, with her words inside: ‘Fun, laughter and celebrations for our birthdays.’ She was away, after the following day’s services, to a family holiday in Wales.

 

My next communication from Julie was a message on my mobile on 7^th July:

‘Rosey, I’m trying not to panic, but Jenny (her daughter) didn’t arrive at work this morning, and I think she would have been on the Edgware Road train when the bomb went off.’ Jenny had indeed, it emerged after three agonising days, been on that train, and lovely, gifted, singing, smiling, Jenny is dead, leaving many broken hearts behind.

 

So the glorious sunshine which has characterised the past month has seemed like a mockery, and you will understand why my heart is heavy. The presence of such evil in our society, the outrageous violent end of such a promising life, the grief of beloved friends, the appalling realisation of the unpredictability of our lives – all these loom like black clouds in the summer sky.

 

What possible comfort can there be? No words are adequate; and as well as the tears, there must be anger. And all this in the middle of summer – the weddings, the fete, the parties and picnics. Life does go on, and even in the tears there will be laughter. Above all, there must be the realisation that this evil must not succeed; that somehow we must have the strength and creative energy to make some good come out of it; that we must cherish our freedom (even though it may have to be curtailed for the sake of a safer society), that we must not get tired of doing good, and that we must relish life – every moment of it – and make the building of loving relationships the first priority in our lives.

 

So this seemingly endless month of July comes to an end, with its baffling and contrary mixture of the loveliness of summer, and yet the dreadful reality of human wickedness and unbearable sorrow (and every day in the world you will find those contrasts in the situations of different people, in different places).

This is the paradox of our world; and it is God’s world too. He is there both in the loveliness and in the pain. The sun shines on both good and bad. Our prayer is both one of thankfulness for so many blessings – yet also ‘deliver us from evil.’

God keep you safe, whether at home or on holiday.

 

With love,

Rosey