´óÏó´«Ã½

Good Morning

In the evenings, before bed, I’ve been revisiting 1972.Ìý That was the year the ´óÏó´«Ã½ broadcast the massive 20-part War and Peace, starring Anthony Hopkins as Pierre. I’d been watching the recent Andrew Davies dramatization, which finished a couple of weeks ago, and seeing the new series filled me with a wave of nostalgia for the old. ÌýÌýI was 12 in 1972. ÌýI remember curling up in front of the television on Sunday afternoons - Ìýhomework done, school shoes polished for Monday morning; everyone gathered together, cups of tea on the go, the living room curtains shut against the autumn gloomÌý - and surrendering to the titanic story of war and love and family.

ÌýSo, I’ve been staying up late and watching the old episodes again.Ìý What fascinates me is how slow they are: scenes are long, conversations meander and develop. Stories unfold oh so gradually, and there are long periods of quiet, when the camera simply watches people.Ìý Or you listen to their thoughts, as they lie on a battlefield, gazing up at the sky and wondering about dying, and the meaning of living.

ÌýSeeing it all again, after more than 40 years, I find the truths of Tolstoy’s story settle deep in the slow telling: that ‘war is the vilest thing in human life’, as Prince Andrei says; Ìýthat, in our suffering, as Pierre came to believe, God is not absent, but is present in the worst that we experience.Ìý And, that only after losing what we thought we understood, can the new and the good begin.

ÌýGod, who is light; God who is the new thing we hope for and the happiness we seek -Ìý may we find you in our living today.Ìý Amen