St. Peter once: ‘Lord, dost Thou wash my feet?’-
Much more I say: Lord, dost Thou stand and knock
At my closed heart more rugged than a rock,
Bolted and barred, for Thy soft touch unmeet,
Nor garnished nor in any wise made sweet?
Owls roost within and dancing satyrs mock.
Lord, I have heard the crowing of the cock
And have not wept: ah, Lord, thou knowest it.
Yet still I hear Thee knocking, still I hear:
‘Open to Me, look on Me eye to eye,
That I may wring thy heart and make it whole;
And teach thee love because I hold thee dear
And sup with thee in gladness soul with soul
And sup with thee in glory by and by.’

–Christina Rossetti (1830-1894)

Portrait of a bearded man as an Apostle (Saint Peter) Pier Francesco Mola. @zigut @sofia_pinzi @45lefia @silvia_nader pic.twitter.com/Hi41L2vdNX

— Bel Art – Orlando Fernández — (@ofervi) February 9, 2014

Robinson’s reading is full of telling details and keenly observed parallels. This enables her to show that what Jews term the binding of Isaac is not a test of Abraham’s faith, but a prohibition of the child sacrifice that occurred in some other cultures, for example in Carthage. Although she is familiar with biblical scholarship and makes use of it where necessary, this work is best seen as a close, attentive reading from a literary point of view. In her approach there is something of the sense of astonishment and marvel that is present in her novels. About the first words of Genesis she writes, “When I think there was a day when a human hand first wrote those words, I am filled with awe. This sentence is a masterpiece of compression.”

“There’s a divinity that shapes our ends, rough-hew them how we will,” Hamlet said to Horatio. That is the conviction that controls the narrative of Genesis, culminating in its closing, when Joseph says to the brothers who tried to murder him, “You meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, to bring it about that many people should be kept alive, as they are today.”

Robinson makes few concessions to the reader. There is no introduction or conclusion; there are no chapter headings or signposts. She just wants her audience to look again at Genesis and see what they make of it.

Read it all.

Reading Genesis by Marilynne Robinson review – rich literary reading of the first book of the Bible https://t.co/oBAzmJviaq

— Guardian Books (@GuardianBooks) March 13, 2024

War broke out in August and in September 1914 Geoffrey Studdert Kennedy wrote these words in his parish magazine:

“I cannot say too strongly that I believe every able-bodied man ought to volunteer for service anywhere. Here ought to be no shirking of that duty.”

This from the man who would, before long be writing this, “Waste”:

“Waste of Muscle, waste of Brain,
Waste of Patience, waste of Pain,
Waste of Manhood, waste of Health,
Waste of Beauty, waste of Wealth,
Waste of Blood, and waste of Tears,
Waste of Youth’s most precious years,
Waste of ways the Saints have trod,
Waste of glory, Waste of God–War!”

Read it all.

The Church of England also commemorates Geoffrey Studdert-Kennedy, Priest, Poet, 1929

Photo of a memorial to Rev Studdert-Kennedy in the Church of St Edmund-the-King, Lombard Street, City of London via https://t.co/NhBvBSw9Hf pic.twitter.com/OjfwZe4pWI

— The Anglican Church in St Petersburg (@anglicanspb) March 8, 2024

The cathedral had hoped for some years to give Austen a fitting tribute as a sculpture, Dean Ogle said. “The opportunity has now arisen with a significant number of private donors and small grant providers keen to see in place the splendid and sensitive design by the acclaimed sculptor Martin Jennings. These funds are restricted by the donors to this project only.

“We recognise that, at a time of cost inflation for so many people, of anxiety about the future, and conflict in society, the idea of bringing to fruition a statue of arguably Britain’s greatest literary figure could be seen as frivolous. Funding for the arts, be it for sculpture or any other medium, is always open to question, which we understand.

“However, with the enthusiastic support of our private donors and the wider benefit it will bring to Winchester, Hampshire, and many of the Austen fans nationally and worldwide, we consider this project should proceed.”

Read it all.

Winchester Cathedral has revealed the preliminary design of a proposed statue of Jane Austen, commissioned from the figurative sculptor Martin Jennings, to mark the 250th anniversary in 2025 of the novelist’s birth https://t.co/IcWSRjmVlv

— Church Times (@ChurchTimes) March 5, 2024

Oh King of grief! (a title strange, yet true,
To thee of all kings only due)
Oh King of wounds! how shall I grieve for thee,
Who in all grief preventest me?
Shall I weep blood? why thou has wept such store
That all thy body was one door.
Shall I be scourged, flouted, boxed, sold?
‘Tis but to tell the tale is told.
‘My God, my God, why dost thou part from me? ‘
Was such a grief as cannot be.
But how then shall I imitate thee, and
Copy thy fair, though bloody hand?
Surely I will revenge me on thy love,
And try who shall victorious prove.
If thou dost give me wealth, I will restore
All back unto thee by the poor.
If thou dost give me honour, men shall see,
The honour doth belong to thee.
I will not marry; or, if she be mine,
She and her children shall be thine.
My bosom friend, if he blaspheme thy name,
I will tear thence his love and fame.
One half of me being gone, the rest I give
Unto some Chapel, die or live.
As for thy passion – But of that anon,
When with the other I have done.
For thy predestination I’ll contrive,
That three years hence, if I survive,
I’ll build a spittle, or mend common ways,
But mend mine own without delays.
Then I will use the works of thy creation,
As if I us’d them but for fashion.
The world and I will quarrel; and the year
Shall not perceive, that I am here.
My music shall find thee, and ev’ry string
Shall have his attribute to sing;
That all together may accord in thee,
And prove one God, one harmony.
If thou shalt give me wit, it shall appear;
If thou hast giv’n it me, ’tis here.
Nay, I will read thy book, and never move
Till I have found therein thy love;
Thy art of love, which I’ll turn back on thee,
O my dear Saviour, Victory!
Then for thy passion – I will do for that –
Alas, my God, I know not what.

–George Herbert (1593-1633)

Remembering George Herbert #otd: Anglican priest, poet, and a beacon of faith and devotion. His legacy as a master of metaphysical poetry and a devoted servant of God reminds us of the beauty in humility and the power of words to express the divine. #GeorgeHerbert pic.twitter.com/b6sbME28Zp

— University Church (@SMVOxford) February 27, 2024

“The Lord of the Rings is of course a fundamentally religious and Catholic work; unconsciously so at first, but consciously in the revision”. So wrote its author, J. R. R. Tolkien, in a 1953 private letter as his magnum opus was being prepared for publication.

The extent to which Christian sensibility informs the work, however, escapes most readers. That perhaps helps to explain its enduring popularity not only in the secularised West, but in non-Christian cultures, such as that of Japan.

The gap in understanding, which this book addresses, arises partly because the narrative force of The Lord of the Rings (TLoR] engages readers of all backgrounds, and also because the overlay of Norse mythological elements distracts them. Holly Ordway’s reading of TLoR in dialogue with Tolkien’s documented spirituality, however, clarifies the picture.

Read it all.

“The extent to which #Tolkien’s Christian sensibility informs #LordOfTheRings escapes most readers”.

My review of @HollyOrdway TOLKIEN’S FAITH: A SPIRITUAL BIOGRAPHY (@WordOnFire ) in @ChurchTimes today.https://t.co/fTdiH0GIkU

— Alex Faludy (@AlexanderFaludy) February 16, 2024

I learn from this wonderful website that after Stubbs became Bishop of Truro, the carol was performed at his cathedral’s ‘Festival of Lessons and Carols’ in 1911 – Truro being the place where services of ‘Nine Lessons and Carols’ first originated at the end of the 19th century.

Read it all.

Earendel at Epiphany.

Hail Earendel,
Brightest of Angels!

It was upon these Old English words that J.R.R. Tolkien stumbled across at his desk in Oxford in 1911, and adopted Earendel for his own use.

Earendel = 'O Oriens', the Advent Antiphon sung at the Winter Solstice. pic.twitter.com/a9pHlXnK04

— Ninefold Kyrie (@Gda1238) January 9, 2024

Imagine the kings, the caravans’ stilted procession
As they make for the cave, or, rather, three beams closing in
And in on the star, the creaking of loads, the clink of a cowbell;
(No thronging of Heaven as yet, no peal of the bell

That will ring in the end for the infant once he has earned it).
Imagine the Lord, for the first time, from darkness, and stranded
Immensely in distance, recognizing Himself in the Son
Of Man: His homelessness plain to him now in a homeless one.

Read it all.

Anonim după / Anonymus after
Rafael Sanzio de Urbino (1483-1520)
The Adoration of the Magi
16th century
Oil on canvas
Nostalgie. Amintire. Regăsire. Peisajul european și ruina în secolele XVI-XIX | Muzeul Național de Artă al României, Bucureștihttps://t.co/iH6Mf1pOd9 pic.twitter.com/1774sLInAB

— madalina potinc (@madalinapotinc) August 3, 2022

In the cold season, in a locality accustomed to heat more than
to cold, to horizontality more than to a mountain,
a child was born in a cave in order to save the world;
it blew as only in deserts in winter it blows, athwart….

Read it all.

Se pone entre tus manos el precio de nuestra salvación /Adorazione dei Magi (detalle), Cesare di Sesto. pic.twitter.com/JZr7V6rczC

— Paulo Medina (@goya1881) November 7, 2017

It might have been just someone else’s story,
Some chosen people get a special king.
We leave them to their own peculiar glory,
We don’t belong, it doesn’t mean a thing.
But when these three arrive they bring us with them….

Read it all.

Francisco de Zubaran ( 1598-1664 ) Adoration of the Magi 1639 pic.twitter.com/Kj7qHA0hIq

— BrindusaB (@BrindusaB1) January 6, 2024

Listen to and ponder it all–more than once.

You may find the full text there (note that the audio is TS Eliot himself reading the poem).

A poem for Epiphany, "The Wise Men," with thanks to @readliberties for publishing: pic.twitter.com/DA2M5ML3jZ

— Alicia E. Stallings (@ae_stallings) January 6, 2024

How could they have known not to come
On what amounted to pretense? Everything
Their learning held, all their beliefs
Said regal gifts were needful for a king.

The things they brought were left behind,
Doubtless; or maybe traded for bread:
Impecunious Joseph with a family
To feed, a roof to put over his head.

Read it all.

Follow the star to the feast of the Epiphany on 6th January!

BL Add MS 37472, f.r @BLMedieval pic.twitter.com/mXuszwSUKa

— Ennius (@red_loeb) January 5, 2024

The holly and the mistletoe must be taken down and burnt,
And the children got ready for school. There are enough
Left-overs to do, warmed-up, for the rest of the week —
Not that we have much appetite, having drunk such a lot,
Stayed up so late, attempted — quite unsuccessfully —
To love all of our relatives, and in general
Grossly overestimated our powers. Once again
As in previous years we have seen the actual Vision and failed
To do more than entertain it as an agreeable
Possibility, once again we have sent Him away,
Begging though to remain His disobedient servant,
The promising child who cannot keep His word for long.
The Christmas Feast is already a fading memory,
And already the mind begins to be vaguely aware
Of an unpleasant whiff of apprehension at the thought
Of Lent and Good Friday which cannot, after all, now
Be very far off.

Read it all (my emphasis).

Gloria in eccelsis deo, cries the angel silently. Stolen by the mafia in 1969, never recovered, alas! Caravaggio's late great Adoration of the shepherds. pic.twitter.com/KHMl5jeuxh

— Dr. Peter Paul Rubens (@PP_Rubens) December 26, 2023

I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along
The unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Till ringing, singing on its way,
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime,
A chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Then from each black, accursed mouth
The cannon thundered in the South,
And with the sound
The carols drowned
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

It was as if an earthquake rent
The hearth-stones of a continent,
And made forlorn
The households born
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

And in despair I bowed my head;
“There is no peace on earth,” I said;
“For hate is strong,
And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!”

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
“God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men.”

–Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)

Christmas time. Peter Paul Rubens, The Adoration of the Magi, 1628-1629. #galeriamiguelnabinho #christmastime pic.twitter.com/fwOxdT0YxO

— Miguel Nabinho (@miguelnabinho) December 26, 2023

My own feeling is that writers who see by the light of their Christian faith will have, in these times, the sharpest eyes for the grotesque, for the perverse, and for the unacceptable. In some cases, these writers may be unconsciously infected with the Manichaean spirit of the times and suffer the much-discussed disjunction between sensibility and belief, but I think that more often the reason for this attention to the perverse is the difference between their beliefs and the beliefs of their audience. Redemption is meaningless unless there is case for it in the actual life we live, and for the last few centuries there has been operating in our culture the secular belief that there is no such cause.

The novelist with Christian concerns will find in modern life distortions which are repugnant to him, and his problem will be to make these appear as distortions to an audience which is used to seeing them as natural; and he may well be forced to take ever more violent means to get his vision across to this hostile audience. When you can assume that your audience holds the same beliefs as you do, you can relax a little and use more normal means of talking to it; when you have to assume that it does not, then you have to make your vision apparent by shock, to the hard of hearing you shout, and for the almost-blind, you draw large and startling figures.

—Mystery and Manners: Occasional Prose (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1969) pp. 33-34 [my emphasis]

Merry Christmas to all!!!

“The Nativity” (1776-1777) by John Singleton Copley pic.twitter.com/KEdKgL3OLD

— Isabel Azar (@izzyroseazar) December 26, 2021

And I said to the man who stood at the gate of the year:
“Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown.”

And he replied:
“Go out into the darkness and
put your hand into the Hand of God.
That shall be to you better than light
and safer than a known way.”

So I went forth, and finding the Hand of God, trod gladly into the night.
And He led me towards the hills and the breaking of day in the lone East.

Read it all. An excerpt from this poem was famously read by King George VI in his 1939 Christmas broadcast. For more about the author of the poem please read this.

Happy new year! Here is a page from the Sherborne missal open at Epiphany – complete with the adoration of the magi, assorted animals, and an abbot. I particularly like Mary and child in the middle of the page. #medievalmonday #manuscriptmonday pic.twitter.com/FYPxeLyY4P

— Dr Naomi (@BooksTeaFilms) January 1, 2024

so this is the sound of you
here and now whether or not
anyone hears it this is
where we have come with our age
our knowledge such as it is
and our hopes such as they are

Read it all.

Charting to the New Year with anchor-sized ambitions and the wind of possibilities at our backs. May your 2024 be as epic as a naval fleet on the high seas! #NavalNewYear #SetSailForSuccess pic.twitter.com/4u08oPUJa0

— U.S. Navy (@USNavy) January 1, 2024

Then came, at a predetermined moment, a moment in time
and of time,
A moment not out of time, but in time, in what we call history:
transecting, bisecting the world of time,
a moment in time but not like a moment of time,
A moment in time but time was made through that moment:
for without the meaning there is no time,
and that moment of time gave the meaning.

—T.S. Eliot, Choruses from “The Rock”, VII, as found for example there (page 107).

Sandro Botticelli, The Nativity of Christ (Mystic Nativity), 1501, Oil on canvas, 11/21/23 #legionofhonor pic.twitter.com/YVo90CUW1M

— Sharon Mollerus (@clairity_org) December 24, 2023

Twas much,
that man was
made like God before,
But that God should
be like man
much more

–John Donne (1572-1631)

Christmas in The Shire

Art by alexsundoor_art on Instagram pic.twitter.com/vc4IT2Zlel

— The Mellon Heads – TOLKIEN Podcast (@mellon_heads) December 28, 2023

She was five,
sure of the facts,
and recited them
with slow solemnity
convinced every word
was revelation.

She said
they were so poor
they had only peanut butter and jelly sandwiches
to eat
and they went a long way from home
without getting lost. The lady rode
a donkey, the man walked, and the baby
was inside the lady.
They had to stay in a stable
with an ox and an ass (hee-hee)
but the Three Rich Men found them
because a star lited the roof.
Shepherds came and you could
pet the sheep but not feed them.
Then the baby was borned.
And do you know who he was?
Her quarter eyes inflated
to silver dollars.
The baby was God.

And she jumped in the air
whirled around, dove into the sofa
and buried her head under the cushion
which is the only proper response
to the Good News of the Incarnation.

–John Shea, The Hour of the Unexpected; one of my favourite Christmas poems, read every year on this day

Frohe Weihnachten pic.twitter.com/qbMQu95tH7

— Stein_harmonie (@SteinHarmonie) December 25, 2023

Men overlooked a baby’s birth
When love unnoticed came to earth
And later, seeking in the skies,
Passed by a man in workman’s guise.
And only children paused to stare
While God Incarnate made a chair.

–Mary Tatlow

Happy Christmas! Luke 2:10-11 'Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Saviour has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord.' MS 5204 f. 65v. pic.twitter.com/AZ8h1jteRj

— LambethPalaceLibrary (@lampallib) December 24, 2023

Nor do the young readers realise how much they are being taught about Christianity, for God and Jesus are never mentioned, yet the books are suffused with Lewis’s theology; and Aslan, the Lion, is an alternative incarnation which teaches more about the incarnation than a lifetime of Sunday-school lessons.

Perhaps Lewis’s single greatest legacy is to be found at the very end of the seventh of the Narnia books, The Last Battle. Like no one else, he was able to write about heaven in a way that fills the reader with longing and a conviction that, yes, the unimaginable splendour must be something like this:

“And as He spoke He no longer looked to them like a lion; but the things that began to happen after that were so great and so beautiful that I cannot write them. And for us this is the end of all the stories, and we can most truly say that they all lived happily ever after.

“But for them it was only the beginning of the real story. All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and the title page: now, at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story which no one on earth has read: which goes on for ever: in which every chapter is better than the one before.”

Read it all.

'My Dear Lucy, I wrote this story for you, but when I began it I had not realized that girls grow quicker than books. As a result you are already too old for fairy tales, and by the time it is printed and bound you will be older still. But some day you will be old enough to start… pic.twitter.com/TouRLEwJ8i

— Simon Knott (@SimoninSuffolk) November 29, 2023

They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted;
They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

Read it all.

Today we salute the brave men and women who have served and currently serve in the #USNavy. Their dedication, courage, and sacrifice have protected our nation's freedom. On this #VeteransDay, let us honor our Navy veterans and express our deepest gratitude for their service. pic.twitter.com/svyUsZ7REc

— U.S. Navy (@USNavy) November 11, 2023

Some British intellectuals were attempting to restore shaken public faith that good could defeat evil. Sayers, Chesterton and other masters of detective fiction truly believed that the great mysteries of their troubled age “were solvable,” said [Lesley-Anne] Williams in one of her lectures.

“I don’t think that we’re in a golden age of mystery now. I think part of that is, you have to have a belief that there is a truth that can be known,” she said. Thus, a yearning for absolutes could be “one of the reasons why people like mystery novels. They are kind of self-contained. You can trust the author to do certain things. … There is justice here and you have to have a belief in justice, you have to have a belief in truth to do that kind of mystery.”

In a 1957 eulogy for Sayers, Lewis stressed that his friend didn’t want to preach. She was striving to communicate clearly to a broader audience.

“There is in reality no cleavage between the detective stories and her other works,” wrote Lewis. “In them, as in it, she is first and foremost the craftsman, the professional. She always saw herself as one who has learned a trade, and respects it, and demands respect for it from others. We who loved her may (among ourselves) largely admit that this attitude was sometimes almost comically emphatic. …

Read it all.

(OPINION/@tweetmattingly) Dorothy Sayers’ Christian faith: Murder mysteries, theology and classical ed. As president of the Detection Club, Sayers led initiation rites featuring ceremonial garb, flickering candles and a human skull.https://t.co/noBpxX4yAP

— Religion Unplugged (@ReligionMag) October 26, 2023

In 1911, he came to the village to be a lay assistant to the vicar and a year later he assisted at the funerals of a mother and child who were killed in a horse-and-cart accident.

The tragedy inspired Owen to write Deep Under Turfy Grass which has inspired the stained glass window, which was installed on Thursday.

Oxford Diocese granted All Saints Church the faculty to install the art piece, following a successful fundraising campaign by local people.

Church vicar Robert Thewsey, with the active support of the congregation, has supported the Dunsden Owen Association with the crowdfunding.

Read it all.

War poet Wilfred Owen honoured with Oxfordshire glass window https://t.co/YwDprXhas7

— BBC Radio Berkshire (@BBCBerkshire) October 13, 2023

“Who then devised the torment? Love.
Love is the unfamiliar Name
Behind the hands that wove
The intolerable shirt of flame
Which human power cannot remove.”

– T. S. Eliot, “Little Gidding,” IV

The Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross is an ancient devotion that dates back to the earliest days of the Church. The Cross is the great sign of our hope as Christians. pic.twitter.com/p43OcWoPHE

— Abp. José H. Gomez (@ArchbishopGomez) September 14, 2023

Here, from Sebastian Milbank, in an essay making a counterintuitive but compelling case for Tolkien’s place among the literary modernists, is a useful summary of the argument over the portrayal of good and evil in “Lord of the Rings,” which has been ongoing since the saga first appeared:

The often ferocious response of many critics perhaps stemmed from the apparent anachronism of the book, combined with its massive popularity. It was published in 1954, at a time when literary modernism was dominant and pervading the academy. Modernist writers were obsessed with interiority, broke with prior literary convention, and traded in irony, ambiguity and convoluted psychology. Literary critics of the time were taking up the “New Criticism,” which dispensed not only with the previous generation’s fascination with historical context in favor of close reading, but also with the traditionalist concerns for beauty and moral improvement, which were regarded as subjective and emotionally driven. Spare, complex prose, focused on the darker side of society, was in vogue. Into this context dropped 1,200 pages of Dwarves, Elves and Hobbits in a grand battle of good and evil. They were greeted with the sort of enthusiasm one can imagine.

Edmund Wilson called the books “balderdash,” a battle between “Good people and Goblins.” The book’s morality was a sticking point even for the most sympathetic critics, with Edwin Muir lamenting that “his good people are consistently good, his evil figures immovably evil.”

I’ve read many variations on Muir’s claim over the years, especially once George R.R. Martin’s “Game of Thrones” became a dominant cultural influence, and it never ceases to be puzzling. There are various ways in which Tolkien refuses realism, and his books are in no way gritty or sexy in the contemporary style. But the idea that he wasn’t interested in the territory between good and evil is belied by even the most superficial reading of the story.

Yes, there is a mostly offstage villain, Sauron, whose evil seems fixed; yes, Sauron’s Orcish armies are fairly described as immovably depraved; yes, there is a set of characters who are unfailingly heroic despite various doubts and temptations. But between the “consistently good” and the “immovably evil” lies the zone in which most of the trilogy’s drama takes place — the corruption of the wizard Saruman, the fatal temptation of Boromir, the despair and subsequent redemption of Théoden, the curdled conservatism of Denethor and above all the complicated and tortured relationship between Frodo and Gollum, and within Gollum’s own divided consciousness. The Frodo-Gollum dynamic certainly features goodness and heroism, but not in any naïve way, and it ends with divine providence engineering the world’s salvation (though not its full redemption) through and despite their mutual corruption by the ring.

Read it all.

A while back I wrote some brief thoughts on Tolkien & his possible influence on English stasis. Here @DouthatNYT notes that I perhaps "[undersell] how much Tolkien subjected his own pastoral nostalgia to critique", which is a fair amendment, I think. https://t.co/yKApbFAJhp

— Niall Gooch (@niall_gooch) September 11, 2023

The Consistory Court of Oxford diocese has granted All Saints’, Dunsden, a faculty to install a new window to commemorate the First Word War poet Wilfred Owen (1893-1918), who had had connections with the church and the village.

All Saints’ is an attractive but unlisted village church, and the unopposed online faculty application was made by the Rector and the churchwarden. Owen lived in the village from 1911 to 1913, having come to Dunsden to act as lay assistant to the Vicar of All Saints’ at that time, the Revd Hubert Wigan. Both Owen’s parents and his sister are buried in the churchyard.

The proposed location for the new window is an existing single lancet window in the nave, facing south and next but one to the chancel. It is near to a memorial plaque that was dedicated to Owen in 1978 by the then Bishop of Oxford in the presence of the then Poet Laureate, Ted Hughes. The existing window is to be dismantled and removed, and the glass retained for future use.

Read it all.

Wilfred Owen commemorative window to be installed in Oxford church https://t.co/0yF3rGF4TP

— Church Times (@ChurchTimes) July 14, 2023

Solemn the drums thrill; Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres,
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted;
They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years contemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

Read it all.

We remember today. Take a moment to honor our heroes who gave the ultimate sacrifice. #MemorialDay2023 pic.twitter.com/PMoZjXXbrB

— Bill Walsh (@BILLWALSHTV) May 29, 2023