Prayer

Today is Tuesday 24 June, 2025. Kia ora!

I have been to several French Film Festival films recently, although the lineup hasn’t been as good as in recent years. Still, some of those I’ve seen have been very diverting and enjoyable, and I’m glad to have seen them. I’ve tried to fit them into my schedule by catching the #25 bus from Khandallah, and either walking to the Lighthouse Cinema in Wigan Street or switching to a #83 bus at Wellington Station to go to the Lighthouse Cinema in Petone.

It’s now Thursday 10 July.

We had a lovely visit from our family in Taiwan. It was very cold here, and very different from the atmosphere in Taiwan!  Suffice to say, lots of things happened, and I will write about them later.

Back to the French Film Festival.  This took place during June, and I tried to fit in as many movies as possible that I wanted to see.  I hope that some that I missed will come on general release in the cinemas.

The first one I saw was Loveboat, starring Daniel Auteuil.  I always like to see him in films, although he was being a bit of a villain here. Anyway, the film was very amusing and light hearted and, unusually for French movies, featured the heroine trying not to have sex with Auteuil.

After this I stayed at the Wigan St cinema to see The French Job.  This latter film I did not enjoy: there was lots of foul language.

Then I saw The Stolen Painting, being very interested in art and art thefts. Again, I was disappointed. I had ideas about seeing movies with JD at the weekend, but alarmingly they were mostly booked out. I saw Riviera Revenge, recommended by one of my cousins: again, I wasn’t really impressed. I saw The Thread, again with Auteuil: this time a legal drama, with a surprising twist, but not Auteuil at his best.  To see that film, I booked almost the last seat at the Wigan St cinema. I was told Bolero was good, but I had written it off, having seen so much of Ravel’s Bolero in Divertimento last year.

I did quite enjoy Three Friends, although someone had warned me off it. But I found it diverting, although frustrating at times. One of the women is really beautiful. I also saw Saint-Ex, a film which took me right back to his Vol de Nuit and my French 1 classes.  I can’t think of his night-flying without remembering Beethoven’s 7^th Symphony.  The film was quite remarkable, if it seemed a little unreal at times. Those tiny planes look so hazardous!

And that’s all I got to see. I did see Tarrac, which wasn’t part of the film festival, but was all in Irish Gaelic.  

In amongst all this we had the Matariki celebration. I am happy to say this means more to me each year. This time our Te Reo Māori group were following an official Matariki celebration booklet put out by the New Zealand Government, and I was to say the karakia for Waitā, the water of the ocean. There was a community morning tea which was delicious and was very well attended, with several more people coming than was expected, and some new attendees to the fortnightly Te Reo classes.

Yesterday afternoon I went to see the movie The Great Lillian Hall, about an aging actress who develops dementia, and somehow the cast and her longtime companion get her through a live performance of Chekhov’s Cherry Orchard. This was American, of course, but it reminded me of the remake of The Dresser with Antony Hopkins, and Sir Ian McKellen as his dresser. They’re trying to get him though a performance of Shakespeare’s King Lear, and I remember him saying “Have I done ‘Oh reason not the need’?  The film about Lillian Hall  was well reviewed, of course, but great reviews don’t necessarily make for great movies, in my book.

This morning JD and I went to see a film about Michelangelo at the Lighthouse Theatre in Pauatahanui.  It’s a lovely place to go to, and with the Transmission Gully highway we can get there really quickly.  Well, that was a very good movie, and covered most of Michelangelo’s great works.  I am very happy to say I have seen many of them, some more than once:  the Piéta in St Peter’s Basilica in Roma, and in Florence, and in Milan (the Rondanini Piéta); the statues in the Louvre, and his Bacchus (with the weird eyes).  What is his greatest achievement? The David, now in the Accademia, perhaps, or one of the Piétas?  Then again there is the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, and his painting of The Last Judgment.  All sources of amazement. Once home I got out my book about Michelangelo, which I got as part of a prize for being the top student in Renaissance studies for my Master of Arts degree in English.

After the movie we went to the café up the road to share a pizza and a chocolate éclair.

Last Saturday (19 July) we went to a performance of Fauré’s Requiem (and the Vierne Requiem) at St Mary’s Cathedral in Boulcott St, sung by the Bach Choir, with Douglas Mews at the organ.  At the same time there was a performance of Handel’s Messiah at St James Anglican Church in Lower Hutt, sung by the Festival Singers and the choir of St Mary’s with Jonathan Berkahn playing the organ. Needless to say, I would love to have gone to both concerts. I knew several people singing in the Messiah, but JD had a hankering to go to St Mary’s again. Unfortunately we forgot to take cushions! The pews there are rather uncomfortable, although the footrests (kneelers?) are appreciated. Anyway, it was a beautiful concert, although JD found the organ playing in the Vierne uncomfortably loud. But the Bach choir sang the Fauré beautifully, even better than the Brahms Requiem in the last concert we went to there. Sadly I managed to cough during the Pié Jesu solo – I think I swallowed some saliva in a rather strange way. Thankfully I’d brought some cough pastilles with me and I had one left.

We had great trouble finding somewhere to park. JD had suggested having lunch in town beforehand, but we were too late for that. We drove down Boulcott St hoping to park there, but ended up driving around and around as the minutes ticked by. Finally we found a parking space up on the Terrace, and walked down to St Mary’s, arriving just in time.

The next day (Sunday) I went to a discussion at the church of the movie Conclave. JD and I had both seen the film and read Robert Harris’ excellent book, as well as watching the Pope Francis’ recent funeral. There were about a dozen people at this discussion, including several non-parishioners. I compared this ceremony to King Charles III’s coronation, where both men and women (and the Royal children) were all part of the centuries-old ceremony. Who can forget Penny Mordaunt holding the sword? Or a Scottish churchman giving King Charles the most precious possession, a Bible. Unlike the very secretive Conclave ritual, that of the Coronation, while scripted, was a very public ceremony. I did feel when I saw the movie that it was stripped of the book’s spirituality, and another parishioner agreed with this view.

It’s now Sunday 27 July.

Our church is meeting in the Hall rather than the Church at present (it’s supposedly warmer there and easier to heat), and we’re supposed to enjoy a hot drink and something to eat while we worship.  It’s a bit frustrating to be expected to bring a plate of food to share!  As it’s only 10 am, one feels one should bring savoury food. Anyway, I’ve not long had breakfast, and my first cup of coffee, and I still feel strange about combining food and drink with worship. Nevertheless, I do as I’m told and dutifully bring a plate (with food on it).

Last week was quite busy. On Tuesday morning we looked at Luke 11 where Jesus teaches his disciples the Lord’s Prayer.  This comes up in Matthew 6 too, where it is very similar.  For a long time the injunction ”Lead us not into temptation” was part of it, then it became “Save us from the time of trial” or something similar. I remember a dear friend of mine explaining that a God who loves us cannot lead us into temptation.  I looked up the actual Greek text, and it is far more nuanced.  The verb is aorist and subjunctive, which is missing in translation which renders it as a command. The subjunctive expresses something that might happen; perhaps would that it may not happen. I think the sense is for the Lord to protect us from being put to the test (and perhaps be tempted to deny Him?) What a wonderful mood the subjunctive is, in both Latin and Greek.

On Wednesday morning there was hymn singing followed by Te Reo Māori, where we began to learn about the poi. It’s hard to swing it correctly, although it looks so easy. Many of us managed to hit ourselves.

On Thursday morning it was singing in the Khandallah Town Hall, where there was a great turnout.  It’s been really cold the past week with severe frosts in the morning followed by fine sunny days, before the temperature drops again. It’s lovely to have fine days, but they come with very cold evenings, nights and mornings.

On Friday morning there was a funeral service for the daughter of a friend of mine, who died from the return of her cancer a few days ago.  I went to that, and although I was 20 minutes early, there were already a great many people there. The service did not finish till well after 12 noon, and I slipped away to get home as I had someone from Access coming at 12:30.  Usually she comes around 3 pm, but today for some reason she was scheduled to come at 12:30. I did manage to get home before she came, but I missed having refreshments in the church hall after the service. It was nice to go to a Christian funeral.

The sermon this morning was about prayer, as was the Tamariki time. We are reminded that if don’t know how to pray, we can say the Lord’s prayer, which covers all bases. The woman who did Prayers for Others also spoke beautifully. I guess we’re all thinking of the dreadful pictures of emaciated children in Gaza. We also remember how special children are to the Lord.

That’s it for now. I’m looking forward to going to another concert on Friday week with the NZSO playing music by Stravinsky, Dukas and Mussorgsky; also to Verdi’s Masked Ball. What a treat! 

The wars in Ukraine and Gaza drag on, seemingly with President Putin of Russia and Prime Minister Netanyahu being prepared to sacrifice hundreds of lives, including children and other civilians, to wars with seemingly impossible endings. What tragedies. Meanwhile, we can pray. Slava Ukraini!

I will write about the visit of some of our loved ones in my next blog. Ngā mihi nui.

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