Remembering

It's a year on from my last blip from All Saints' Inveraray, and in normal circumstances I'd be thinking I might as well cut and paste from the last time, for once again we sang Byrd's Mass for Three Voices through the holy smoke in front of the black-clad altar, though the Bishop wasn't present - in fact, no-one but bell-ringers, the St Maura singers, a reader and a server offered their prayers and their presence on this occasion.

But if ever it seemed appropriate to remember, this morning was that time, in the immediate, horrified aftermath of the terrorist killings in Paris and the realisation that, just as the ancient symbol of the swastika had been corrupted by its use by the Nazis, so another faith has, for now, been hijacked by fanatics.

Dona nobis pacem...