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Good morning.

As a very amateur fiddler, I watch musicians at the Â鶹ԼÅÄ Proms with a deep respect for their mastery of their instruments. At their best, you can see a musician whose instrument seems just like an extension of their own body and the wisdom, the know-how of their playing is an organic thing, not a mechanical one.

Thomas Merton, a monk and mystic of the last century, in his poem Hagia Sophia, depicts Mary the mother of God as the one who gives Jesus ‘a crown which is His Human Nature’.

He describes this crown as something that is not glorious but that is greater than glory – the weakness and poverty of human flesh. The Wisdom of God is embodied in Jesus. And our own flesh can also embody divine wisdom. Sometimes we imagine ourselves as a sort of machine that responds to messages sent from its central computer, our brains. But our experience of life is that sometimes it’s the other way round: the way we use our bodies forms our ways of seeing the world. Skilled musicians learn their art by practice – by doing it again and again. I think it’s the same with our devotion, which can be formed in the act of bowing or kneeling, or our love which is formed in the simple act of a touch, or our prayer deepened by the act of sitting still, even when our minds are busy and restless.

Holy Wisdom of God,

Sharing our flesh in Jesus Christ,

Teach us to trust and care for the bodies you have created,

That they may be bearers of your compassion and care to the world.

Amen.