Tuesday, 10 July 2012

Tenth Pointless Literary Exercise

The front page of yesterday's Guernsey Press said something along the lines of "Revellers at Church Hall". Being contrary, I decided to write about revelling in a temple setting. The headline reminded me of Matthew 21:12, which is, as we all know, about Jesus going all throwy-outy on dove vendors and money changers, but it also made me imagine revolutionary scenes. Being a pedantic contrarian, I looked up the word revel and saw that it has roots in the Latin verb 'to rebel'. Personally, I like the idea of writing about church-based rebellion, so I set myself the task of producing this quick post.

They whipped the pews and drove them out into the quiet of the street. Some of them lifted the tabernacle onto their shoulders and carried it up to the gallery, where they played tunes to it on the organ. Wine was taken from the chalice and love was made in the rectory. Once it got dark, a fire was made on the stone floor. Its flames passed illumination over the exhausted faces of those gathered there.

During the day, when candles were flung through the centuries-old stained glass windows, the light that flooded in was joyous, a celebration of its own. One could take fresh air into one's lungs. These screams, that reigned over all the chaos, were not disturbing, they were some holy, human incantation hung around them all.
Holy water flew through the air in so many arcs that one would have questioned just how much of the stuff there'd been in that font, were one not busy revelling. As it showered down, a pair of sweating merry makers lifted their faces, closed their eyes and opened their mouths. A puddle had formed in that corner of the vestibule. Beside it a grinning woman raked her hand over and over into the font, dragging handfuls of blessed water up into the crowd.

A pigeon flew in and was immediately confused. It almost drove itself to injury by flying in circles around the roof beams. A Korean man, manic with concern for the bird's well-being, managed to take it in his hands and set it free in the church gardens.

1 comment:

  1. was sure to have written a comment...
    'twas this:

    ...I'm no psychiatrist... - BUT

    ;)

    ReplyDelete