A passion narrative

There’s nothing quite like a night in A&E to put us in touch with our shared humanity.

In all its fragility and its wonder, its mess and its kindness.

Gail’s story is hers to tell, but with her permission and blessing, a brief reflection in real time.

Breast cancer in the summer of 2025.

Now, in the summer of 2026, a heart attack.

That seems a lot to take, for someone who looks after herself (and others) so thoughtfully and well.

She and I are exploring the limits of our own capacity to fix things.

Catholic theologian Ronald Rolheiser has been reminding us both that maturity comes as we accept what must be accepted.

This is the path of passion - a word which has its root meaning in the idea of being passive.

In the being ‘done to.’

Hence the naming of the suffering of Jesus as his ‘passion narrative.’

In experiences like this - seasons of primarily being done to rather than doing - can we remain, as the blessed Julian reminds us (see the previous Substack) ‘strong in love, and peaceful and restful’?

On our recent retreat at Sheldon in Devon I photographed this lovely stone sculpture by Zimbabwean artist Charles Tendai.

It evokes in me sadness and loss, but also tenderness and serenity.

A small passion narrative.

In God’s grace, a way to pray, a way to be, when we are being done to.