Last September the British photographer, Jim Grover, spent a day snapping people crossing Westminster Bridge: locals and visitors, adults and children.

Some years ago I was praying in the crypt of St Peter’s Basilica in Rome, many metres below the putative chair we celebrate tonight, now suspended below the main window of the Holy Spirit. As she pointed at the sepulchre, a large black American lady asked if I knew what it was.

Backed by a rendition of the 1988 song ‘It’s got to be perfect’ by British band Fairground Attraction, a current TV ad opens with a nappy-clad child rummaging through a woman’s handbag, removing a lipstick and using it to
draw on a wall.

This past week the Royal Commission into Institutional Responses to Child Sexual Abuse began its review of the overall performance of the Catholic Church in Australia in this area. And what has been revealed has already been harrowing.

The Word of God has converted hearts, transformed lives and inspired action in millions of people for two millennia and more. It has also played a major role in shaping our language and culture, and so our thinking and communication; the King James Bible stands with Shakespeare as the two principal sources of modern English.

What sound most moves us? A natural one such as a thunder-clap, rain on a tin roof, or a kookaburra’s laugh? Or a more human sound, such as the weeping of a well-played violin or of those who must listen to one being played badly? A siren racing a patient to hospital?

What sound most moves us? A natural one such as a thunder-clap, rain on a tin roof, or a kookaburra’s laugh? Or a more human sound, such as the weeping of a well-played violin or of those who must listen to one being played badly?

“No, I will not put the Lord to the test.” So says Ahaz in our first reading today. To demand a sign from God – indeed to demand anything from God – is to attempt to manipulate God or to treat Him as if He somehow owes us something. It is irreverent, controlling, arrogant.