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Good morning.

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We are the champions. Under pressure. I’m going slightly mad. Not a description of how you might be feeling before 6am on a Saturday, but, of course, just three of the songs performed by Freddie Mercury, lead singer of Queen. Like so many great artists, Mercury’s stage persona was marked by excess and showmanship. Even his untimely death 27 years ago today courted vast amounts of media attention, as he succumbed to the effects of a long-suspected diagnosis of HIV/AIDs.

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When he wasn’t performing Freddie Mercury was a shy, private man, and perhaps it is this juxtaposition of flamboyance and introversion, that means he remains something of a mystery to us, an exotic concoction of beauty and tragedy, whose entertaining lyrics always seemed underpinned by a darker edge.

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St Augustine said that:

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‘Thou hast made us for thyself, O Lord, and our heart is restless until it finds its rest in thee.’

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There is mystery in each of us, a restlessness of spirit that does not know where or to whom it belongs, and much creative expression is an attempt to find identity and meaning. The greatest artists are those who, through their work, cause us to think more deeply about who we are and what we believe. Often misunderstood in their lifetime, these bohemians articulate the chaos of the human heart, and its longing for connection and depth.

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Father

May we know today the certainty of rest in you. Still our restless hearts so we might know our true identity, and grant us an understanding of what it means to be made for your glory.

Amen