You know, it's a problem with having a reputation for being a contemplative, mystical kind of a believer. "What can we buy her for Archdruid's Day?" they ask themselves. Or on another special day, like Kirsty MacColl's birthday, or on a pilgrimage to Walsingham, Lourdes or Hemsby according to choice. And the answer always seems to be "how about an icon? She likes those."
And I did like the first few, no doubt about it. But they build up over the years. I now have so many copies of Rublev's icon of the Angels at Mamre, one corner of my study looks more like the feeding of the 5,000. Or, more accurately I suppose, 5001. Virgin and Child icons gaze dispassionately down from all sides. And there's an entire wall given over to Pantokrators.
And they're lovely, but let's face it. What do you do with an icon once you've looked at it a couple of times? Apart from all that dusting. So it was a great joy to announce that for the feast of St Ephrem the Syrian, we're holding an Extravaganza of Ikons. Ephrem himself is famous for being loved by members of the Greek Church, and it seemed appropriate, not least as he is celebrated in icons himself.
So at 9pm, once the dusk is starting to settle, we'll be lighting a tea light before every one of those hundreds of icons and enjoying that kind of frisson of spiritual enjoyment. Then at 9.30, once everyone's got a bit bored and started kicking their heels, we're going off to the Beaker Bar to open a bottle of Islay malt. Well, we've not got to forget St Columba, have we?
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