les Davey de France

I think of George VI's famous Christmas message, delivered in 1939, at the outbreak of war. je pense au célèbre message de Noël du Roi George VI, diffusé en 1939 au commencement de la guerre. The link gives a recording . Le lien donne un enrégistrement mais il cite ce poème : J'ai dit au gardien de la porte de l'année : "Donnez -moi une lampe Pour aller sans danger vers l'inconnu." Et il m'a répondu : "Avance dans la nuit Et met ta main dans la main de Dieu. Ce sera mieux qu'une lampe Et plus sûr qu'un chemin connu."

The Christmas season is drawing slowly to a close. Just time for some more of this fine group of brass learners. The arrangements they are playing are published by Chester Music (I think) - look for "Christmas Crackers" and "Just Brass" and maybe "Iveson"

theological. What you believe in your heart will out and will express itself in your life. I have no doubt about this whatsoever. I sometimes wonder if in our insane pitting of biblical theology against systematic theology we are not storing up great problems for the future. Well no, I don't wonder. I am positive. Anyway, what sparked this little diatribe is a few conversations recently. I mentioned the Sunday when we used the definition of chalcedon as our confession of faith, remember ? One of the reasons for that is that you sometimes hear amazing departures from orthodoxy. For example 'Mary was a surrogate mother, she gave nothing to the unborn Jesus Christ but the welcome of her womb.' That may sound plausible, but it is not the Christian faith and it is not the teaching of the Bible. Jesus' humanity was continuous with ours. He was born of her and derived his body from hers, by God's intervention. One of our chaps wanted to discuss this the other wee...

A Man there is, a real Man, With wounds still gaping wide, From which rich streams of blood once ran, In hands, and feet, and side. ‘Tis no wild fancy of our brains, No metaphor we speak; The same dear Man in heaven now reigns, That suffered for our sake. This wondrous Man of whom we tell, Is true Almighty God; He bought our souls from death and hell; The price, His own heart’s blood. That human heart He still retains, Though throned in highest bliss; And feels each tempted member’s pains; For our affliction’s His. Come, then, repenting sinner, come; Approach with humble faith; Owe what thou wilt, the total sum Is canceled by His death! His blood can cleanse the blackest soul, And wash our guilt away; He will present us sound and whole In that tremendous day.

outside the Grand Théâtre

Pintade ? Canette ? Chapon ? Cerf ? Chevreuil ? Cuisses de lièvre ? In the end we had pork.