For reasons that have never been entirely clear to me, though I suspect they are very clear to our Edinburgian member, we have haggis for dinner on St Andrew’s day. Sometimes it is the authentic sheeps’ innards version; at others, a vegetarian alternative. Either way, it is one of those mixtures into which one dare not enquire too closely. Fragrant, tasty and very sustaining, I think the haggis is an apt metaphor for holiness. No one would really like to say in what it consists, beyond being close to the Lord. It takes time to perfect, is attractive to others and lasts for ever. A thought to take with us into Advent, I trust.