Eccles gets a Blaised throat

Yesterday was the feast of St Blaise, and February 3rd is a very appropriate time of year to celebrate him, since he is the one to go to for throat problems. I myself have had various coughs and colds throughout this winter, so I went up after Mass yesterday to have my throat blessed.

St Blaise with 4th century medical equipment.

Now, what outcome should I have expected? If Jesus had healed me in person, then I would have leapt up rejoicing; but clearly one expects slightly less from a retired Irish priest fumbling around with two candles, even if he is somehow appealing to St Blaise for help.

Still, for a few hours I did feel quite a lot better: no coughing and only a slightly sore throat. Maybe it was psychological, or maybe Fr Jack had managed to invoke a minor miracle.

Now, the Bible itself doesn't have many positive things to say about throats. For example, there's Psalm 69: I am weary of my crying: my throat is dried: mine eyes fail while I wait for my God.

St Paul (Romans 3) is also somewhat discouraging: Their throat is an open sepulchre; with their tongues they have used deceit; the poison of asps is under their lips. Who is he referring to? Well, all of us, it seems.

Cleopatra prepares to take delivery of an asp.

So here we are at a new day. The throat is slightly better, perhaps, but still not cured. Perhaps someone can advise me: is the St Blaise cure simply a matter of time? Or should I put this one down as a failure (like when, as a child, I asked God to mend my bicycle lamp and He refused)?

Well, there's always Lourdes, I suppose, but it seems a long way to go for a cough.

How to stay healthy in church

On advice from my doctor, who was concerned about my blood pressure, I went to a "said" Mass today: being a music-lover, I suffer a lot of stress if I have to sing "Shine, Jesus, Shine", "Walk in the Light", or "Follow Me". It is also bad for my blood pressure to hear badly-played guitars and flutes. So a "said" Mass it was.

Now, can you see the next health hazard?

I was sitting next to the aisle. In front of me, a man coughing and sneezing into his hands, practically non-stop. Behind me, a woman, less of an invalid, but also sneezing into her hands once in a while. Ahead of me... the dreaded Kiss of Peace!

"Sorry, Eccles, I should have sat next to you."

Clearly, when the deacon (for it was he) uttered the fateful words about offering each other a sign of peace, I was not going to be able to avoid clasping the germ-sodden hands of Mr Sneezy and Mrs Spluttery. The words of a famous 1960s hymn came to mind:

Coughs and sneezes spread diseases:
Trap the germs in your handkerchief.

It is memorably sung to the tune of Deutschland Über Alles (Haydn's Emperor's Hymn) by Tony Hancock in the Blood Donor sketch. I heard that Kevin Mayhew was planning to include it in his next hymnbook, set to a newer and more trivial tune.

"Coughs and sneezes spread diseases."

Let's formulate this as a chess problem: Eccles to move.

My inspiration - a chess knight!

Yes, I surreptitiously edged two places to the left, behind the military man in the eye-patch, and in front of the middle-aged woman who insisted on singing loudly, even though it was widely reported that she could not carry a tune in a bucket. During the offertory, I had to get up anyway, to pass the collection plate to the man on my left, who vaguely resembled a film star. So when I sat down again, I was a knight's move away from the sneezing duo. The current rules of etiquette mean that shaking hands is not compulsory at that distance, although a "leer of peace" is expected. Saved!

"Peace be with you! But come any closer and I'll shoot you with my phaser."

I'll stop there - I think I've got a cold coming on.