Last night I was looking out of the kitchen window of my tower block towards Salford Cathedral. All the light were on, in fact, very late into the night. This was due to the fact that some bones of a nun, Saint Terese, who died in 1897 were being carried around the country on a whistle stop tour.
This morning, I awoke to find queues stretching around the cathedral to get in, to view and pray before them. The queue is still just as long at this time.
It reminds me of when I was last in London...2002 I think, around the time the Queen Mother died, and the queues that stretched across one of the London bridges and along the South Bank for days. Mind you, that was for someone who had only recently died, and their memories were still fresh, and in many cases link to her life, especially during the second world war.
I'm not a particularly religious person, and I find all this praying to relics a little peculiar, like those who go to Lourdes or such places to look for healing. But I suppose people do the same to those still living, built shrines to footballers and film stars...and Princess Di...I wonder what they are really hoping to find?
Breaking contradictions in his mind was, to him, like walking through a winter forest snapping twigs underfoot.