A special day.

Today – the last day of August – is always a special day for me. It is the anniversary of our wedding. Magucha and I. That was in 1979 – so today would have been our fortieth. 

Not long, I suppose, in the great scheme of things but long enough for there to be many memories. Fond memories. Memories of deep friendship; memories of close companionship; memories of quiet evenings together when each knew that they were loved. That is the important part.  The love.

I try not to dwell on the end – I mean death does come to us all. The “uninvited visitor” calls at His own time and place. I like to dwell, rather, on the strength we each seemed to give to the other and on the many important, if seemingly relatively minor, events that shaped our life together.

But above all I recall Magucha’s strength of character and her courage. She was utterly fearless and met all that Life (and the Fates) threw at her with a courage and fortitude that I found inspiring. 

She never complained. Each day, every event was a new adventure and I never once, not ever, heard her ask “Why me?” Her slowly declining health was certainly a sore trial for all concerned but she always met each day with a smile of good cheer and always with plans afoot. She seemed always to shine a kindly light, which was appreciated by all and drew many into her orbit.

I know that Magucha has gone on ahead, that she is out of sight. But, to me, she is still there and I know, just know, that one-day we will reach out and hold hands again.

I am certainly not the only one who holds such beliefs – many over the millennia have said the same. So I don’t think I am all that wrong!

As anyone who reads what I write will know, I have always loved poetry.  Now the poet who writes under the pseudonym  of Atticus seems to capture my mood very well, and with some humour:

“Angels must be warm to fly –

That’s why she always 

Slept in socks.”

And it is true Magucha always (well nearly always) started off with very loose socks, inevitably discarded during the night!

But this poem, by the Bengali poet Rabindranath Tagore, just titled 87, from a little booklet called Gitanjali always affects me:

“In desperate hope I go and search for her in all the corners of my room; 

I find her not.

My house is small and what once has gone from it can never be regained.

But infinite is thy mansion, my Lord, and seeking her I have come to thy door.

I stand under the golden canopy of thine evening sky and I lift my eager eyes to thy face.

I have come to the brink of eternity from which nothing can vanish – no hope, no happiness, no vision of a face seen through tears.
Oh, dip my emptied life into that ocean, plunge it into the deepest fullness. Let me for once feel that lost sweet touch in the allness of the universe."

Uphill

Our individual journeys along the unique byways that our life leads us, should on reflection, give insight to many wonderful experiences. Amongst the many wayfarers we are bound to meet there will beautiful people, loving people, people who inspire and lead. Of course there will also be quite a few others! 

This journey, however and by whom it is undertaken is seldom easy nor straight-forward.  My dear old mother, bless her cotton socks, told me very early on that in her belief, this world was but a school for what comes next. We need to do the best we can, in this world, and learn from our inevitable mistakes and blunders. We will all, at some stage, stumble on our journey. 

In light of what I have written, above, I offer this simple poem that my mother loved – and which I too love.  

Uphill

Does the road wind uphill all the way?

    Yes, to the very end.

Will the day’s journey take the whole day long?

    From morn to night my friend.

But is there for the night a resting place?

    A roof for when the slow dark hours begin.

May not the darkness hide it from my face?

     You cannot miss that inn.

Shall I meet other wayfarers at night?

    Those who have gone before.

Then must I knock, or call when just in sight?

    They will not keep you waiting at that door.

Shall I find comfort, travel sore and weak?

     Of labour you shall find the sum.

Will there be beds for me and all who seek?

     Yea, beds for all who come.

                                                Christina Rossetti

What now?

Maybe it is because I am at that stage of life often termed (politely) as being of “advanced years”, I tend to look at what is going on around me with a different outlook.

There seems to be a great deal of “hot air” being expended on what to do about the economy, as if the “Economy” was the beginning and end of life. I know that I have mentioned this before in other posts but it is necessary for all to acknowledge that the “Economy” is not some esoteric, alien “thing” somewhere out there. The economy IS the people - the citizens of this Country create the Economy with their labour.  

Money is not self-emergent, it doesn’t arise by itself.

Without PEOPLE there would be no money and no economy. There is an old Roger Whittaker song– one called “From the people to the people”, and the lyrics certainly apply today:

“You take it from the people, you give it to the people. 

Its people who reap and people who sow.

You work with the people or you gotta go.”

These words express very well my philosophy. It is PEOPLE who are of paramount importance. Not MONEY. Not the ECONOMY.  Not the BUDGET. It is people – without people there would be no money and therefor no economy, and by default no need for a budget (in surplus or otherwise) or for a treasurer.

So it’s PEOPLE, stupid! People. Look after people!

The problem, in my opinion, is that what is termed the “middle class” is being hollowed out. The divide between the rich and poor is getting wider. The rich are getting richer with the top 1% owning the wealth of the bottom 70%. These are Australian figures but are typical of a world-wide trend. 

The best solution (in my humble opinion) is not to reduce the rate of income tax to the wealthy but to increase it and so provide a better income distribution via a Negative Income Tax- For people who do not earn enough to pay tax (or earn below the minimum wage or some other agreed amount) their income would be supplemented to arrive at the agreed amount or the minimum wage. Everyone, working or not, would be obliged to lodge a tax return and any supplement would be “refunded” via the ATO, similar to the process for a normal tax refund.

More money in the pockets of those with a low-income means they will spend more. This gives rise to what is termed the “multiplier effect”. In Australia this is about 5. This means that for every additional dollar spent the “economy” benefits by 5 dollars. Retail trade in particular would get a boost – more money spent, more employment, more taxation revenue … etc.

To me it’s a no brainer. Increase the “dole” and everyone will benefit. 

My views of the Catholic Church in Australia - about the Confession

This is a letter I sent to the Archbishop below. It expresses my deeply felt feelings about this shocking practice. In addition I will add that it should be understood that the entire Canon was revised in 1917 by the then Cardinal Secretary of State in the Vatican, Eugenio Pacelli (the future Pope Pius XII). So these "sacred" laws are not "inviolable laws of the Church". They are nothing of the sort. They were written by a man; not received carved in stone in some Moses like event. 

  

His Grace Archbishop Peter A Comensoli

Archbishop of the Archdiocese of Melbourne

Your Grace,

Re: The Confession and "weasel words".

Few things get up my nose and arouse my ire like injustice and people, or organisations, using "weasel words" to try and escape scrutiny and to try and maintain their authority! It is almost as if their only "crime" was to be caught! Doesn’t seem to matter what they did. 

In relation to the recommendations of the Australian Royal Commission into Institutional Responses to Child Sexual Abuses, you have stated that the church welcomed the extension of mandatory reporting to priests, but maintain that the seal of confessional could not be broken. 

"The keeping of the seal in fact might in real ways enhance the safety of children not put them at further risk," you are reported to have said. 

You explain that this was because of the anonymity the confessional offered to children.

"The breaking of the seal is not likely to lead to child safety, it's more symbolic than a practical solution," you are reported to have said.

Not likely to lead to child safety! And keeping the seal might in real ways enhance the safety of children!! These are children, abused children, vulnerable children! Words fail me – I’m staggered that anyone, anyone, would make such a claim. Your hypocrisy is breathtaking.

Weasel words indeed! It seems your need to protect the "Sacred" institution of the Catholic Church takes precedent over all other considerations.

In relation to your statement, mentioned above, you will be well aware of what follows – but it is worth repeating.

The Confessional:

This requirement was originally imposed in the Middle Ages, at least in part, by church leaders who expected priests to interrogate penitents and learn if they might be heretics. 

Confession and the authority to grant absolution also greatly enhanced the power of the priest. With sins absolved, the believer would gain heaven. Without absolution, death could bring the spiritual pain of purgatory or the eternal damnation of hell.

It would appear that from the very beginnings of the confessional, practices varied widely among both priests and laypeople. Some clergy emphasized compassion and forgiveness and faithfully kept secret what they heard. Others exploited their power and the information captured during the sacrament. The 11th-century monk Peter Damian (1007 – 1072) famously excoriated clerics for the sexual abuse of minors, which often began with the penitent-confessor relationship. In the later Middle-Ages apparently, criminality among confessors was widespread and entrenched. Much of the criminality involved sexual assaults and priestly transgressions against the church's sexual mores.

So, as you can see, nothing has changed! There is nothing "sacred" about the "seal of confession" – quite the reverse. At best a priest should be acting only as a counselor for a troubled parishioner, someone to talk openly with – not hide behind a screen. Hiding behind a screen while confessing, to God presumably, is hypocritical in the extreme. I ask, where is God in all this? Is God only "up there", or is God "everywhere" (as I strongly suspect)? If God is everywhere there is no place to hide – least of all behind a screen! 

Furthermore does a "paedophile sinner" require absolution from a priest – also possibly a "paedophile sinner" himself? Please!! 

More importantly, does an innocent child’s emotional and psychological future weigh less than a mature, if ethically challenged, adult who knew exactly what he (or she) was doing? The Catholic Church has no claim to any moral authority while it hides behind its so-called inviolable "laws of the Church". They are nothing of the sort.

Has nothing moved in the Catholic Church? It’s high time you realised that this is the 21 Century – 2000 years (and counting) after the birth of the man you profess to worship – the man of justice, the man of peace, the man of love and a man of God – and the man who loved children! 

It is a few centuries, I believe, since a Pope had the power to keep a kneeling King waiting in the snow for an audience! Today, Secular Law most certainly takes precedence over Canon Law.

Canon Law can be changed. It’s not as if it is written in stone by God! Men, men of the Church of God, devised and wrote the Canon Law. Men can change it.

If you do nothing I strongly believe that the decline in church attendance will continue at an accelerated rate as trust, that most fragile asset, is further eroded. And you will continue to suffer the censure of many in the public arena. 

The requirement for celibacy is another long story!

I will be very interested in any response you may offer.

Yours "faithfully"

Andrew Campbell-Watt

The beginnings

Being from an “older” generation some of the books I read and the author’s thereof may seem strange or even unknown to more “modern” readers. No matter – I still read what I like and like what I read!

It is often the first few words of a book that draw one into continuing. Without going into an exhaustive list I will just give a few examples from books I have read.

One of the best to my mind is, “Wanted, a detective – to arrest the flight of time!” This is the opening sentence from the (1935) autobiography of Dr Halliday Sutherland, “The Arches of the Years”. My mother, dear old thing that she was, sensed my love of literature and well written books, and suggested this book to me and mentioned that first sentence. I was intrigued!

Charles Dickens also obviously had the knack of punchy first sentences. Take the opening of his well-loved “A Christmas Carol” – “Marley was dead, to begin with. There was no doubt whatever about that.”  

And then of course the opening (very long) sentence from Dickens’ “A Tale of Two Cities” - “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way – in short the period was so far like the present period, that some of the noisiest authorities insisted on it being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.”

I can’t help adding that while this book was written in 1859, that sentence could apply equally well today (USA, UK, Australia – any other suggestions?)!! 

Another author not much read today is Nevil Shute. Some of his books are very dated but they are all very good and well-written tales. This opening sentence from his famous “A Town like Alice”  - “James MacFadden died in March 1905 when he was forty-seven years old; he was riding in the Driffield Point-to-Point.”

Then what I think is my favourite Nevil Shute story, “An old captivity”, starts “This case came before me quite by chance in the spring of last year.” And so it goes on.

Jeffery Farnol is another “old fashioned” author – it is actually quite difficult to

get hold of his books nowadays. He was almost an exact contemporary of the historical novelist Georgette Heyer and wrote rattling good yarns of daring do in the 17^thand 18^thcenturies – always a sword fight or duel of some sort, and of course a beautiful feisty maiden to be won!  As an example the first line of “Martin Conisby’s Vengence” – “The Frenchman beside me had been dead since dawn,” sets the tone.  Martin Conisby had been captured by Barbary pirates and was a galley slave sharing an oar with the Frenchman. 

Erskine Childers, the British author who was a supporter of a “free Ireland” and who smuggled guns into Ireland, in his yacht, for what became the IRA, wrote his most famous book “The Riddle of the Sands”. He was executed by the British for his troubles in 1922.

The Riddle of the Sands, written in1903, was amazingly prescient in that, to my mind, it foretold the possible invasion of England by the Germans using barges towed by tugboats from the "sands" - the low lying islands of the Frisian coast and Holland. Just what Hitler had in mind in 1940! 

The 1903 very English view of the world is evident in the first sentence, but it is a rattling good story – “I have read of men who, when forced by their calling to live for long periods in utter solitude – save for a few black faces – have made it a rule to dress regularly for dinner in order to maintain their self-respect and prevent a relapse in barbarism.”

Then of course there is Robert Louis Stevenson’s famous “Treasure Island”. The first sentence – “Squire Trelawney, Dr. Livesey, and the rest of these gentlemen having asked me to write down the whole particulars about Treasure Island, from the beginning to the end, keeping nothing back but the bearing of the island, and that only because there is treasure still not lifted, I take up my pen in the year 17 --- and go back to the time my father kept the Admiral Benbow inn and the brown old seaman with the sabre cut first took up his lodgings under our roof.”

Who would not be drawn into reading further?

I could go on, but as I said at the opening of this post – these are just a few examples that I have found intriguing.