Saturday, November 25, 2006

Sister Foundly's Inner Piece #2

Dear Parishioners,

How it touched me inside to receive your input, in response to last week’s sad story of internet pornography.

Many of you couldn’t believe the shocking things I had to report, so I’ll be sending the weblinks out to you all via email.

Stimulating too were some of the discussion points you have written in with.

I was particularly taken with one suggested topic, that of ‘inter-familial relationships”. What a wonderful phrase, I thought, and one which I vowed to use more often. We are all one big family, and the relationships between each one of us are what bring meaning to the world.

Only the other day I happened to be paying a visit to Father Ruckable, that dashing young pastor and acting abbot of Mitzmaid Cloister, the only mixed abbey in the country.

Whilst having dinner with him in the great hall, I mentioned the subject of “inter-familial relationships” to the Father, and he found the matter most stimulating.

He said that the monks and the nuns of the abbey practised a very cold and reserved manner one unto another, a habit instilled by the previous abbot, and one he was keen to overcome.

Indeed as I looked around the great hall I perceived that the monks and nuns were not looking or even speaking to each other, and felt sorrowful that this sacred house lacked so much the warmth of human intercourse.

Feeling my sack under the table (I had been Christmas shopping earlier that afternoon), I hit upon an idea. ‘Why not share out a little wine?’ I suggested to Father Ruckable, handing him a bottle of champagne. ‘After all, was not the water turned to wine, long ago?’

The Father thought this a super idea, and accepted. Taking his brut firmly in both hands, he quickly popped his cork. It foamed out everywhere!

Frowning at the Father’s mess, I teased open my rosé carefully, gripping with my thighs under the table.

The wines were passed around all the fellowship at table. After just a few sips, the atmosphere had thawed. Here and there a conversation started up as the brothers and sisters warmed to each other, and before long, tongues were wagging throughout the hall.

Another few glasses and all reserve had evaporated! I was amazed to see such confirmations of human intimacy, such ejaculations of intense affection that had been pent up for so long.

All around, people were opening up, making secret admissions to each other. Some pairs and small groups even rushed out of the hall altogether, no doubt to find somewhere more private to continue their intercourse away from the hubbub.

Everyone was enflamed with the spirit of openness. Even Father Ruckable showed a little pinkness around the head. Pulling back his hood, he asked myself and another nun if we would bare our souls to him in the vestry.

I am embarrassed to say that I do not remember everything that happened that night, but later on, back in my own bed at Frock Cottage, I felt a satisfaction deep inside that I had played a part and changed so many lives.

With blessings and glad tidings,

Sister Foundly


Anonymous said...

Sister - you and I know that Father Ruckable ripped his hood on the dashboard of his Ford Anglia in 1972. He did have it sewed back together, but it has been know to rip from time to time when he gets into the swing of things.

Anonymous said...

That is true, although he said at the time that little Tammy had nothing to do with it. He happended across a small boy in the street and was made to pull up abruptly, thus causing the accident.

Myself and the Sister personally helped to rearrange his hood at the time. Poor Father Ruckable. he says it pains him often.