Some while ago my wife was doing a spot of tidying in the shed and garage. She came across a box containing some bottles of home-brewed beer, that must have been at least 12 years old. Remarkably, they were still as drinkable as when they were made (which isn’t very!), but even more remarkably we’ve obviously been dragging them round the country with us without knowing we’d got them. It’s 4 changes of house since I last brewed any beer - in my mispent youth, you understand. Anyhow, I’ve recycled them on the compost heap, where I hope they’ll do a bit of good.

But it made me think of the other stuff I carry around but don’t know about or remember, the hurts and regrets that I’ve got lurking in the dark recesses of my psyche waiting to be discovered by accident. In the ordinary way I don’t have too much time for the vogue for introspection - self-indulgent and ultimately self-centred is my instinctive feeling about it - but this chance encounter with some long-forgotten beer has made me think. Perhaps that’s why the “collect for purity” is (I think) such an important prayer:

Almighty God, to whom all hearts are open, all desires known and from whom no secrets are hidden; cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of your Holy Sprit, that we may perfectly love you and worthily magnify your holy name, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen