How do we do it? How do we turn the world on its head? ‘The greatest is the least’, ‘Lord, shall we call down fire from heaven on these insolent people?’ It just doesn’t sink in through their thick skulls. Or mine. But I am convinced that the closest person to a saint in my parishes is a quiet 92-year-old widow with a gentle smile and a sparkle in her eyes, who says her prayers every day and holds the world before her Lord. And mine. She has become that child.
Cuthbert is still building his ‘city’. The well of everlasting life is dug in its centre and blessed by God. But the grim realities of the hard life he has chosen are not spared from us. The story of Cuthbert’s chiropody is gruesome.