Excellent stuffed aubergine with a bit of greenery.
Followed by excellent cheesecake (which bore no resemblance to cheesecake but which was delicious) plus a mug of tea.
A pleasant sunny day in Godalming.
Whilst in Godalming Parish Church the battery for my camera died. Very annoying as wished to photograph the piano, then around Godalming.
Very good lunch at Café Mila. Stuffed aubergine and greenery, followed by cheesecake and a tea.
Left at Café Mila three books by Paulo Coelho.
Return to Aldershot, was to be 71 bus to Haslemere, then 19 to Frensham and Godalming, but over twenty minutes late, still had not turned up.
Whilst waiting for 71 bus, popped into the Godalming Museum to see what their exhibition was (seems a bit dumb not to have a board outside). It was excellent pastel art of Godalming and surroundings. A lot better than some of the rubbish that gets exhibited. A pity though art was covered in glass. But only on until Saturday.
No sign of 71 bus, caught instead the 43, which goes an entirely different route.
Past Charterhouse school, heavily wooded, rolling hills, open pastures, trees coming into leaf.
Make no mistake: if he rose at all
It was as His body;
If the cell’s dissolution did not reverse, the molecule reknit,
The amino acids rekindle,
The Church will fall.
It was not as the flowers,
Each soft spring recurrent;
It was not as His Spirit in the mouths and fuddled eyes of the
It was as His flesh; ours.
The same hinged thumbs and toes
The same valved heart
That-pierced-died, withered, paused, and then regathered
Out of enduring Might
New strength to enclose.
Let us not mock God with metaphor,
Analogy, sidestepping, transcendence,
Making of the event a parable, a sign painted in the faded
Credulity of earlier ages:
Let us walk through the door.
The stone is rolled back, not papier-mache,
Not a stone in a story,
But the vast rock of materiality that in the slow grinding of
Time will eclipse for each of us
The wide light of day.
And if we have an angel at the tomb,
Make it a real angel,
Weighty with Max Planck’s quanta, vivid with hair, opaque in
The dawn light, robed in real linen
Spun on a definite loom.
Let us not seek to make it less monstrous,
For our own convenience, our own sense of beauty,
Lest, awakened in one unthinkable hour, we are embarrassed
By the miracle,
And crushed by remonstrance.
— John Updike
A detailed look at the various passages according to St Paul. A series of post-Easter talks by Canon Robert Cotton of Holy Trinity and St Mary’s.
Week III Paul and four paintings.
For both the Greeks and Jews, resurrection represents a paradigm shift.
For Greeks, death was a one way journey of no return. Not annihilation, a shadowy existence as shades. A few eminent persons, heroes and the like, may have a temporary earthly existence as shades.
For Jews, it was a developing concept. Pharisees had the concept of martyrs, fighting the enemy, a glorious death, to be resurrected to join the final victors. Not so the Sadducees, they were content as the ruling class, and the last thing they wished to see or encourage were martyrs to overthrow the existing order, they dismissed the idea of martyrdom, and victory as a shared experience.
An empty tomb. Shock at finding it empty. Where was the body? But to then simply go home!
A Greek icon. Jesus resurrecting the dead at the end of time.
As Jesus died on the Cross, the skies turned black, the Temple curtain was torn in two. Or does it signify the end of time? Very Gothic, very Victorian.
The Gospels speak of the Resurrection of Christ, Paul takes this further, the resurrection of everyone.
John Updike, in Seven Stanzas at Easter, asks us to not mock God with metaphor, in other words, accept the harsh reality.
A little girl asked: How does God make people real? Then she answered her own question: First he draws them, then he colours them in.
The roast pork at Debenhams probably was quite good, had I been earlier, but due to kerfuffle at Guildford Station was late, the vegetables may have been edible, maybe the service may have been better and the tables cleared.
Service appalling. 5-10 minutes wait to be served. Another 5 minutes wait to pay. I almost walked out. Tables not cleared.
I should have gone to The keystone for lunch.
The only redeeming factor, the view of the River Wey.
The roast pork was the scrag end leftovers. More than I could eat. I thought maybe they had boxes for customers to take out their cakes. But no. problem solved, squeezed into a takeaway coffee cup.
On the 1334 Reading-Gatwick train I bought a ticket.
Alighting at Guildford, I realised I had left railcard on the train, or maybe dropped it. I asked could I go back on the train to collect it, to be told no, speak to the station staff.
Station staff tell me nothing to do with them, they are Southwest Trains, I need to speak to First Great Western who operate the Reading-Gatwick train. They give me a number and I call First Great Western. Difficult to understand what she is telling me. She says I need to talk to Southern Trains, as they operate Gatwick which is the terminating station for the journey. And no, the driver cannot be contacted and the railcard dropped off as train passes back through Guildford, and if railcard is handed in at originating station, which is Reading, it will end up at Bristol.
Southern are equally unhelpful. Railcard would go to Victoria, but this would take up to six days.
My phone then runs out of credit. Both companies operate premium rate 0845 numbers, both have waffle to listen to, not content to rip passengers off with expensive rail fairs, they rip them off again on their phone charges.
I now find I am unable to get off the station because I have no ticket. No way am I going to pay again. Station manager is called. He lets me off the station, but says I will not be able to get back on a train as I have no ticket.
Later, one little bit of good news, I find I do have my tickets, but no railcard.
If anyone has any sense, they will see, if railcard is recovered, my name. All they have do do is look me up on their own records, and post me the railcard, but that would be far far to easy.
I alight from Reading-Gatwick train at Guildford, realise have left Railcard on train, but not allowed back on train to retrieve, then do battle with several different rail companies.
Late lunch at Debenhams. Roast pork probably was quite good had I been earlier. I get dried up leftovers.
Decide to hop on a bus to Godalming for tea and a cake. As I approach bus stop, I see a bus approaching, stick out my hand for bus to stop. Bus sails past. Bastard! Long wait for next bus which is over ten minutes late.
Godalming I find coffee bar has closed early as quiet day.
I decide to sit by the river, only to find most of the seats have been ripped out.
I walk to bus stop, only to find I have missed a bus, long wait for next bus.
I walk back to the river, discover I have lost my hat, sun in my eyes.
By now, very bad headache.
I walk back to bus stop. I expect long wait as buses always late. Bus is early, not only early, but leaves early, I am very lucky to have caught the bus.
But at least the evening talk by Canon Robert Cotton of Holy Trinity and St Mary on Resurrection and beyond was to end the day on a high note.
Documentary on Raul Seixas.
Raul Seixas (1945-1989), Brazilian rock composer, singer, songwriter and producer, born in Salvador, Brazil, and died of pancreatitis in São Paulo.
Prior to being a writer, Paulo Coelho was in a song-writing partnership with Raul Seixas.
Thanks to Paulo Coelho for posting on his blog.
Synchronicity: Only a couple of days ago, I was discussing Raul Seixas with a Brazilian girl and the song-writing partnership he had with Paulo Coelho.
How much do I love you?
I loved you yesterday,
I love you today,
And I’ll love you tomorrow.
I will love you until forever.
That’s how much I love you.
For Annie, with love. 😮