Holy Week Diary
On the path up to the columbarium, just behind Evelyn Underhill’s grave, is the grave of Ernest Chitty. On his tomb he is described as “Poet Priest Pacifist”. I suspect that, had they met, he and Evelyn Underhill would have had much to talk about. For many years he was the vicar of All Souls’ Loudoun Road, and then St Georges Bloomsbury. After he retired he assisted regularly at St Peter’s Belsize Park where he started writing poetry and expanding his ministry as a counsellor. This is one of his poems
Holy Week Diary
Palm Sunday,
Chosen to be Judas
In the Reading of the Passion.
Cheering crowds,
Palms are waving,
Christ is riding into town.
Maundy Thursday,
Grateful client
Brings me Piat d’Or
And Florentines,
A welcome gift for any week,
For Jesus bitter herbs,
And bread and wine,
At a farewell meal.
Good Friday,
Two at Church,
Making one,
Each for half the time,
The rest pass by as
I lost my keys and
Jesus is crucified.
Easter Eve,
My team lost,
But should have won,
I and Jesus
In the tomb.
Easter Day,
Daylight saving,
Lost an hour,
Where’s the saving?
Found my keys,
Jesus rises,
Flags are waving.
Ernest Chitty
Belsize Park
Easter Day, 1989
