One Sunday morning, on arriving for Mass we were met with a rather unusual sight: fellow parishioners were gathered outside the church, listening intently to Fr Mariusz.

Apparently, there was to be no Mass at St Paul’s that morning – Fr Mariusz was directing everyone to the Monastery or the Cathedral or other nearby Churches instead.

The reason –  a feathered visitor in the church. No, not a gentle dove, as we might hope to see while praying to the Holy Spirit, but instead a pesky magpie. Somehow, the bird had flown into the church and then, having presumably enjoyed the spacious interior, discovered that getting back out was not quite so easy.  It was flying around inside, unable to find the exit.

Fr Mariusz was taking no chances.  Magpies are usually placid enough, but during breeding season they can become fiercely protective of their territory.  Their swooping is legendary, and most of us have a story to tell about being swooped at by a magpie. They can dive at cyclists, joggers and unsuspecting pedestrians, and a church full of parishioner’s pates would possibly be a tempting collection of targets. Rather than risk Mass also becoming an exercise in ducking and weaving, the congregation was advised to attend Mass elsewhere.

One parishioner was experienced with dealing with magpies. He set off to find some meat, realising that the way to a magpie’s heart – and hopefully out of the church – was through its stomach. With the combination of the enticing meat, the persistence of the parishioner, or simply the magpie working out where the door was, the magpie eventually found its way to freedom.