Guest blogger, The Rev’d Humphrey Blytherington is Vicar of St Hilda’s, Little Snoring with All Saints, Great Snoring. He is a graduate of Plymouth University. He completed his studies for the ministry at Latimer Hall, Durham. He is married to Daphne and enjoys home brewing, model railroading and is an avid member of the Great Snoring Morris Dancers.
I must say, lads, it’s awfully good to be back home. My idea of a holiday is a week in Norfolk with the bell ringers, visiting towers and working up a thirst and p’raps tootling around on a boat for a few days on the Broads. Instead Daphne cooked up this hair brained idea of taking Mrs. Doyle on a jaunt to a place over in France called Lourdes. Not really my cup of tea, but she who must be obeyed said Mrs Doyle had wanted to visit Lourdes her whole life, and never could manage being only an Irish char and all that. Besides, it seems Mrs. Doyle’s arthritis is worse than ever and she was praying to the Blessed Virgin for a cure. Yours truly was drafted in to carry the bags it seems.
Then there was all the palaver about St Bernadette seeing the Blessed Virgin and digging a hole in the ground and water springing up and everyone being healed and so forth. I mean to say, it’s all rather primitive, superstitious peasant sort of stuff isn’t it?All this about visions of Mary–what next? “Ooh look, there’s a picture of the Pope in a cream bun!!” Har Har. Luckily we Anglicans got rid of all that sort of thing at the Reformation. We haven’t got that sort of underclass in Britain now I’m happy to say. Education has cleared all that up. The typical Englishman thinks things through carefully and isn’t one to be taken in by religious kooks and emotional schoolgirls.