The Power of Christ Compels You!

Every month, we go to Widelake House to hold a communion service for the largely gaga residents. Once a year it all becomes rather more involved. Giles the manager of the House is convinced (I'm not sure on what evidence) that the place is built on a Saxon burial ground or a plague pit or something, and insists that it gets blessed. Being a Papist he used to invite one of the Bishop of Rome's clergy to do the job, but somebody was rather cursory and dismissive on one occasion and so now he turns to those of us from the province of Canterbury. Our curate did it last year, and now it was my turn. We started in the manager's office and then I was led around the house by a member of staff, pausing in all the lounges and opening all the bedrooms. Most of the residents were elsewhere, sat in the lounges or wandering about, which expedited the process, one of them preferred I carry out the rite outside the room itself, and my guide suggested that another resident would not welcome the intrusion, but everywhere else got sprinkled and prayed for. 'Everything will be SO much more peaceful now', beamed Giles, 'I can go on holiday in the right frame of mind'. I'm not entirely sure about that.