Dublin again – second time in a week and this time for a family wedding tomorrow. ‘Maybe you could have stayed ….. ‘ somebody said. But life isn’t like that.
Apart from all the usual things – and Poppy responsibilities in particular – I spent Tuesday in London on Continuing Indaba business. This is ‘honest conversation across difference in the cause of mission’ – a pattern for the Anglican Communion as we try to work through our differences, it’s an integral part of the reconciliation vision for the Communion which the Archbishop of Canterbury is developing. I’m passionate about reconciliation. So It’s a privilege for me to serve as Convenor of the Reference Group.
So we drove to Dublin today – a day late because of the weather. It’s a long time since I have driven from Belfast to Dublin. It used to take for ever. Now it’s a featureless motorway and dual carriageway and takes no time at all.
But as we drove, I reminisced to myself about more bracing days. Like the dark and wet winter night when the Renault 5 was drowned by a deluge of spray from a passing truck – in the spooky surroundings of Ravensdale Forest just south of the border. It’s the place where the body of Captain RobertCaptain Robert Nairac Nairac was found. Nairac was killed in 1977. The link takes you to material which explores his rather Lawrence of Arabia style – reputedly going under cover and singing rebel songs in the pubs of South Armagh,
And as we reached the toll booth south of Drogheda, I remembered being on the phone while Alison drove – trying to persuade an unplaced ordinand that his vocational duty lay in my parish. I failed.
Ah well!