When Church became Mass
All this 'going to church' in the week has really been good in terms of 'getting me out the house'. The weather is good and because its around the same time and human's being creatures of habit, I'm noticing the Turkish barbers are always on their Lambert and Butlers, the butchers always on their brooms and there's more than a few big men clipped to creatures they firmly believe is a dog. I suppose they'll have noticed me in the same way although they'd never guess I was going to church. That I am sure. Quite why I kept going in the week is something which, on reflection, I felt I ought. The church itself as a building has started to bring me so much peace. And like I say, it gets me out. The effect of Sunday when the roof seemed to disappear has been turned over and over in my mind and then it did eventually dawn on me, its not that we were going up. Rather, God was coming down, to us all. I felt that and further realisation that such a revelation...