Children of clergy -- Fiction; Clergy -- England -- Fiction
We have passed through a sad time lately at the Abbey, and I feel
that for the Community sorrows are in store. You know from my
letters that there have been divisions, and you know how hard I
have found it to decide which party I ought to follow. But of
course the truth is that from the moment one feels the inclination
to side with a party in a community it is time to leave that
community. Owing to an unfortunate disagreement between Brother
George and the Reverend Andrew Hett, who came down to act as
chaplain during the absence of the Reverend Father, Andrew Hett
felt obliged to leave us. The consequence is we have had no Mass
this Easter, and thus I have learned with my soul to need God. I
cannot describe to you the torment of deprivation which I
personally feel, a torment that is made worse by the consciousness
that all my brethren will go to their cells to-night needing God
and not finding Him, because they like myself are involved in an
earthly quarrel, so that we are incapable of opening our hearts to
God this night. You may say that if we were in such a state we
should have had no right to make our Easter Communion. But that
surely is what Our Blessed Lord can do for us with His Body and
Blood. I have been realizing that all this Holy Week. I have felt
as I have never felt before the consciousness of sinning against
Him. There has not been an antiphon, not a versicle nor a response,
that has not stabbed me with a consciousness of my sin against His
Divine Love.
"What are these wounds in Thy Hands: Those with which I was wounded
in the house of My friends."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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