Behold I stand at the door and knock

What bliss to hit a city centre this close to Christmas..... and not need to shop! We've had a day out in Manchester that was well worth the silly o'clock alarm call and early train. Main aim - The Holman Hunt exhibit at Manchester Art Gallery. Mum and Dad had been some weeks ago and were up for a second look - and I really wanted to see The Scapegoat, especially given my growing understanding of the atonement over recent months. But that wasn't the major draw today.

I've never been a big fan of the British-looking Jesus, and most of Holman Hunt's depictions of Christ are red-haired and alabaster-skinned. And "The Light of the World" is one of the most-reproduced artworks of the period - it even makes it onto the vestry wall in Dibley! Enough to send my aesthetic alarm bells ringing, one would think. Well, our God is a God of surprises.

Now, I'm not really well up on my pre-raphaelites, and had always assumed that they were all about poetry, Shakespeare, abundantly-haired women and Greek mythology. I hadn't quite realised how extensive the religious art of the period was. And I wasn't quite prepared for the impact of seeing "The Light of the World" up close.

It's amazing. Luminescent (is that a real word?), engaging, and with a face that seems to contain all faces - at different times I saw both my parents in that face, and even hints of myself. Almost like the use of icons in Orthodox traditions, I found myself looking into and through the painted face to a deep well-spring of love. Bizarrely, an English Victorian ginger Jesus has done what most religious art has never managed to do for me.

There were three different versions of the painting there. Like all Holman Hunt's work, each is loaded with meaning. The one that held me and brought me back to it several times was the lifesize one. The others didn't quite work facially somehow. They were somehow more impersonal. And any reproductions - online or printed - obviously can't do it justice. That one.... that one entreats. I even went back to sit with it after coffee. Jesus knocks then waits patiently for our response. Revelation 3:20. What a great start to Christmas!!




Blessings, Auntie Ratchett x

Holman Hunt and the Pre-Raphaelite Vision runs at Manchester Art Gallery until 11th January 2009. (And while you're there, check out the Vallette stuff on the first floor.)

An ordinary life?

After a year of discovering the things they never told me about vicar training, I thought I was pretty clued up. Nope! I am continually being surprised. Over the past ten days - in the name of ministerial formation - I have:

- Hugged a tree
- Squeezed my lemons
- Taught a balloon modelling class
- Slept on the church floor
- Learned Baroness Thatcher's technique for quietening a room
- Decorated Santa's grotto in purple and orange
- Marshalled a veritable army
- Laughed until I cried
- Finally started to read 'Punk Monk'
- Got very lost with satnav
- Iced gingerbread snowmen
- Said goodbye
- Bought a Welsh language hymn book
- Accepted a curacy
- Enjoyed vodka-laden pasta
- Stuffed many, many envelopes
- Been bitten by a small child

And you know what........ I love it! (well, except for the biting bit)

Blessings, Auntie Ratchett x

Monkeys

I've just been watching David Attenborough's 'Cheeky Monkey' (available on BBC iplayer until December 16th). You can't not love monkeys! The quiet, attentive care shown to a grieving mother, the despair of a failed watchman and the ministrations to a fallen warrior were bizarrely moving. Yet it was the nut-cracking production line (about 45 minutes in) that most fascinated me. I was almost envious of their patience, perseverance and eventual pleasure.

Which musings brought me almost too neatly to this morning's criticisms of Rowan Williams. Christmas comes too soon, he argues, because of our need for instant gratification. His recommendation is to immerse ourselves instead in the beauty of 'waiting.'

Watch the whole of his Advent message here, it's rather lovely:








I can't think of a better recommendation - especially this year. I long for this Christmas to be a time when we can regain some of the lost reflection, wonder and expectation of Advent; and perhaps some of the joy, creativity, sharing and focus on relationships that Christmas offers. And it goes without saying that I long for this Christmas to be a time when people recognise the outpouring of God's love that is Christ.


Call me a sentimental, idealistic old tart - but I can't think of a better way to survive the 'festive' season. Yet the message has been branded as 'a rant' in one of the dailies - and anyone who tries to bring Christmas back into focus deemed Scrooge-like.



Still - and somewhat ironically - I'm now singing 'Jingle Bell Rock' instead of writing my apt liturgy essay!

Auntie Ratchett?

I am slightly disconcerted to learn - thanks to a friend who was trying to locate my blog - that I am not the only Auntie Ratchett out there.

What I thought was a pet name lovingly bestowed by the trihogyn turns out to be exactly that - the name of a pet (although I think I was given it first!) Auntie Ratchet is, apparently, a character in Turbo Dogs, a new animated series where 'cruising canines share social values with kids'.

That I can live with - but please don't let her be a pug.

I'm off to track down a copy of the DVD.

Blessings, Auntie Ratchett

Auntie Ratchett's First Post

Well ..... A year after I promised to start blogging, here I am.

Can I sustain it? Probably not.

Will it be as erudite as some of my favourite R*H* bloggers? Probably not.

So is it worth it? Definitely. So many things catch one's eye/heart/imagination that it would be a shame to let them pass by unheralded. And our God is a God of surprises. 'Twould be folly not to share them.

Have I anything to say today? Probably not. At least, nothing that can be repeated in public :o)

So, I'll see you soon?

Blessings
Auntie Ratchett x