My sabbatical blog 6: Wakes, whit, fun and community

I have just returned from nearly two weeks in the North West, my second of three big sabbatical trips, this time to look at traditions and especially doing some thinking about working class communities in the north and how people came together for work but also for fun, light relief from really difficult working conditions in hindsight. I was based in Blackpool, in Mossley and in Saddleworth.

When I served in Mossley, once a year they would go on about "wakes" - the town would have an enormous fun fair on the market ground which made church reverberate the noise outside was so loud! One church in the town shut down because it was "wakes" even though none of them were away. "Wakes week" was the week in the year where mill workers left their work and went, en masse to one of the northern seaside towns for a week of much needed light relief. I never realised until I read a book I got from Amazon for 10p about wakes holidays that whole towns went, leaving behind somewhat of a ghost town. I love this extract which some folk who follow me on Facebook will have already seen:

"Albert Deeley of Blackburn knew that his local vicar was going off for the wakes along with most of the rest of his flock in that vintage post war summer of 1947 - but he was still shocked to see the gentleman of the cloth walking towards him along the front, not only in a mauve shirt but minus his dog collar no less. "I could never take the man seriously after that," says Albert. "I can't begin to describe what a let down it was, almost like discovering there was no Father Christmas."

Blackpool, as Stanley Holloway put it "renowned for fresh air and fun" was invaded by people and you couldn't move for people. Most would stay in very basic guest houses, often run by tyrannical landladies. Use of the cruet was charged on your bill at the end of the week! Seriously! In a lovely book called "Growin' Up in Lancashire" there is a bit I love about more wealthy visitors who stayed in the Imperial Hotel. I laughed out loud when I read this knowing that next month a Methodist Superintendents Conference meets there: "My Gran would say of its residents, "They're so posh that lot, they get out of the bath to wee."!!!!

I didn't though really realise the importance of the Wakes Week for people until I visited a textile mill museum in Burnley last week. I had ladies in my congregations in the Ashton Circuit who were very deaf, life long friends who had worked in a mill together. When you did funerals, you discovered they had job descriptions I had to ask what they meant. I also knew about lip reading to have conversations over the factory noise, thanks to the immortal Cissie and Ada creations of Les Dawson, if you remember them. Queen Street mill closed in 1982 but is now open as a working heritage centre. A group of us had a very informative day learning about mill life, seeing bits of machinery working and the end products of different cloth, which was exported all over the world. Remember Manchester at its height was known as "Cottonopolis."




We went into the part of the mill where the looms were - there was a sign saying really no more than five minutes in there with the noise of 3000 looms was sensible. I came out with my ears ringing, feeling quite disorientated. I had a conversation with the man showing us round about my deaf ladies. He said "now treble the noise in your mind." At its capacity this space had 9000 looms working - imagine the noise. You could hear it miles away. Imagine working in that for long hours every day, with machinery that was dangerous. No wonder a week in Blackpool was your highlight of the year. When I lived in Mossley they used to tell me about the knocker upper. I used to sometimes think stories were them winding me up. But no - days started early for these people. A man with a pole came to knock on your window giving you minutes to get out of bed and get to work. A Victorian alarm clock!





While I was in Blackpool, I spent time looking for ways community was created by this light relief and fun. I've always loved Blackpool, I am one of those sad people who get excited by playing that "first sight of the Tower" game on the journey there. It is full of life and vitality even though now it has major social problems, and at weekends of course is home to all of life in its diversity awash with alcohol and enjoying hen and stag dos. I still have nightmares over the man dressed as a penis who wanted a selfie with me by the North Pier the other Friday night! This other side is there being ministered to by the folk at North Shore Methodist through their Comfort Zone work, providing space and support for an increasingly high number of homeless folk, often high on drug and alcohol abuse. Indeed on Pentecost Sunday, while we were enjoying worship in the church led by a silver band, stewards at the back weren't in the service as someone contemplating suicide was in the foyer needing some help.

The Tower Ballroom is one of my favourite places - people clearly go in there every day to dance, or to listen to the organ. From the balcony I watched people who just were there enjoying a little piece of heaven on earth. The Tower Circus is another must for me every year. Again escapism for a bit from your problems and from the world, Mooky the clown is a genius, although he makes you sweat when he comes round picking on people to help him, and he got very close to me this time. He kept saying "it's all about having a laugh, it's all about having a laugh." I laughed until my sides split. In my growing up in Lancashire book it mentions the old beauty contests on the North Pier. I love this bit, not at all PC for 2016 but there you go:
"Number 25 should have stopped at home," said my Gran. Old ladies can never whisper and this comment was quite audible even to number 25 herself."!!!! Guess the old dear worked in a mill. I found as the minister to former mill girls they always spoke very loudly, even to each other in church. I had to once have a word that I didn't wish to hear what the price of cheese was in the Co-op during the communion!!!

The other part of my trip to explore traditions and community was to do Whit Friday again after 14 years away. Like Wakes I had never heard of Whit Friday until I lived in Lancashire. Whit Friday in now just a small part of Lancashire, is the most important day of the year. The next one is planned the day after this one, and this one in great detail is talked about and analysed for days after it. Whit Friday falls into two bits. In the morning you "walk" -"what you do mean, walk?" said I on arriving in Mossley. I was very glad my predecessor, Jackie, suggested I might come and see a Whit Friday walk before I took over as minister and found myself at the front of my church procession, a banner and a brass band. Each church walks to remind folk of the church being alive at Pentecost, each has a banner which comes out despite the weather and not the easiest thing to carry, and each church has a band, hired for the day. The band the Methodist Church use are mostly young people. They have only been doing it for a few years. Apparently the first year they had never marched in time, and could only play the theme from Wallace and Gromit!!



It was still an amazing experience to walk down the streets with people lining them to watch. People still have new clothes every year for this (I had a new jacket!!) and the stories about it are amazing. One lady had special Whit Friday teeth! I did though as I walked try to reflect what it is all about for these people. Is it about the church being alive anymore? The music the bands play is not especially religious!! Unless "Hello hello, who's your lady friend?" that the Unitarian band behind us were blasting out is in a hymn book. At least this time there was no Colonel Bogey! Is it about holding on to a social event embedded in a tradtion we enjoy and that binds us together? There are people who walk who have nothing to do with any church. Indeed, within the churches, the procession used to be commented on if folk turned up to walk who hadn't been to church for ages. Whatever, it is clear this event holds community together, a shared experience, I guess looked forward to rather like wakes. It was good to see children being part of it - there was a fabulous plastic brass band of little children and I love this picture of the children being encouraged to clap as the walk passed by.



We returned to church for the usual sticky buns with iced lemon on them - a tradition no one can explain to me, but I guess you have your Whit Friday bun as well as your Whit Friday teeth or your new Whit Friday dress. I sat and chatted with folk who wanted to talk about walks past. A fascinating morning. I sat with a group I was the minister of in Millbrook, long since shut. For them keeping the event going, and holding on to it for dear life, was important.

The other part of Whit Friday is the annual band contest, where brass bands travel from village to village and play competition pieces and aim to win as many contests as they can, adjudicated by some people who sit in a little caravan! This is serious business and takes place no matter what the weather. I did the evening with friends at Greenfield in Saddleworth. The contest in Saddleworth is still very strong. The village was heaving with people, of all ages, enjoying themselves, another communal event. Then the heavens opened! The bands played on. I escaped to the Methodist Church in the village for pie and peas and then to the beer tent where I dripped - I had to have a pint of beer to stay dry!! Much alcohol was being consumed, because it was Whit Friday, and again I did wonder what that was about. Is an event like this as important in people's psyche to look forward to as important as say Christmas or birthdays? Do we need emotionally and spiritually to have things that are lighter and make our soul sing to look forward to make life do-able? Like Wakes, is having special times, meeting special people on a special day, having a calendar and counting down the days, important for us to get through? Certainly on the station platform on Monday morning people were still talking about it "did you walk?" "which band won?" etc etc and I know arrangements for 2017 are well in hand! Much to ponder...

What has this second bit of study about community taught me? That traditions are important, that they bind community together, even if we sometimes don't ask what they are about! That maybe in life groups of people need lightness and less pressure to look forward to. The mills were tough, but you formed life long friendships in them and you got on with it, and when the holiday week came, you loved it. And perhaps it is just about appreciating those moments with lovely people who come into your life and saying to yourself "maybe today I just need to have fun." Is there a theology of fun? If not, I am doing things wrong.

I loved returning to my first beloved congregation in Mossley to lead worship on Sunday. I came away remembering how good it is to just laugh together. I am convinced even though life is hard and sometimes you just need to cry, to find those people who make you smile is so important. So I end these thoughts with a belter from another book I bought (in the museum: "Tackler's Tales: a humorous look at Lancashire." I was on Hebden Bridge station reading this and burst out laughing out loud. Hebden Bridge is very posh! Enjoy - and regular readers see you next time: thoughts following worship in Harpenden!!

" So I came to Oldham, pouring rain, knocked on this door.
Landlady said "Yes?"
I said, "Can I stay here for t'week?"
"Aye," she says, "you can, but you'll get dam'd wet."

   

   

         

       

Sabbatical blog 5 - Connecting to community

I was powerfully led to do a retreat day today venturing out onto the Romney Marsh to visit some of the churches there. I visited three churches today, which have been there for centuries.

I always find sitting in ancient holy sites very powerful because it connects me to a much larger community than my 49 years here. The fact that people have been praying, worshipping, discerning God's will right where I have been today is very moving. This little church, St Thomas Becket at Fairfield is a powerful symbol of God in the midst of life, storms, floods, difficulties. I sat today and pondered church gatherings in the 12th century. I wonder what was on the PCC agenda of this little place? Later on in the day today, I went to the lovely church at Old Romney, with its pink pews (!) apparently painted pink for a Disney film made there in 1963 called Dr Syn. Never heard of it! I picked one of the best church magazines I have ever seen, connecting the Marsh churches together. I will allow the editor the cringeworthy "dreadful budgie jokes" column: "Tim goes into a pet shop and asks for a big bag of bird seed. "How many birds have you got?" asks the shopkeeper. "None," replies Tim. "I was hoping to grow some."
The priest in charge, Julie Coleman, has written to her people as the annual parochial church meeting is approaching. She talks about all human endeavour and discovery coming from often a small group of people not just taking things at face value, but painstakingly and sometimes at great personal cost, probing deeper into the mysteries and complexities of the created order. She reminds her flock they need to know they are a valuable part of the Body of Christ, and he has called us all by name, hence we journey together.
This time apart from church routine has reminded me of the privilege and importance of creating community, of investing in relationships, of enjoying other people, of laughter and joy others can bring to you. I am deeply deeply moved that people want to meet with me in this time and spend time with me. We need to take more time over people, grappling together what life is all about and what God is all about. The preacher at St Johns in Upper St Leonards the other week said he has been too busy serving God to listen to God. Are we all guilty of that?
I looked up the set Psalm for today in evening prayer - Psalm 59 - imagine a congregation as some will have done tonight - reading words of confusion about enemies and horrid people driving you mad and wanting God to get them!  "Consume them in thy wrath... and in the evening they will return : grin like a dog, and will go about the city. They will run here and there for meat: and grudge if they not be satisfied."Then he goes through the motions of belief and hope and says well God, I know it must be better - "as for me, I will sing of thy power and will praise thy mercy because thou hast been my defence and refuge in the day of my trouble." I sat and wondered how many times people in these tiny churches must have implored God to come when all around was chaos. Have we lost that sense of needing to implore?

Later on in the day I went to Dungeness, a very strange place. Today it was even more strange as the sun was trying to shine but the fog was not lifting, and I sat in silence listening to the waves lap on the beach thinking of many people I know at the moment who are in a fog, but also some who are beginning to see the light shine for them, just a little bit. Perhaps in investing time in people in community we need to encourage them more? The lovely deacon in our Circuit keeps telling me my greatest gift is that I never talk anything or anyone down. I have seen communities destroy themselves through abusive language, power games, negative vibes. Community can be transformed if we simply say to people "you matter" "a bit more. Apparently the nine days between Ascension Day and Pentecost is a special time of prayer in the C of E. In the church in Old Romney, I picked up a super little prayer book prepared for the time by the Diocese of Canterbury called "Conversations at the Crossroads." Apparently the Diocese are encouraging as a focus of work people to have more meaningful conversations with each other. I love the Canterbury Diocese! Can't my part of East Sussex be included in it?? Anyway, this little booklet is all about people in life meeting others and working things out. There is a website of fab resources: www.canterburydiocese.org/nirvana
Today's prayer spoke to me about community, time and people who God sends our way:

God who dwells in temple and heart, when we are rushing around anxiously without you, when we forget to seek you in the obvious place, still us; sit us down in your presence, amaze us with your wisdom and show us where our true focus should really be - on Jesus Christ your Son, our Lord. Amen.

I thoroughly recommend a day visiting open churches, with no agenda except to see what you see, what God is showing you, take a bag of books with you, something to write with and on, find a nice place for lunch in the middle and come home and write what has happened. You will have a lovely day! I have been blessed with a link to history, a reminder of special people and a need to find God with me just a little bit in the hard stuff. My own fog!




   

Sabbatical blog 4 - I matter in community

Week four of this fabulous sabbatical time has seen me mostly at home here in Hastings, apart from a trip to Mossley for the funeral service of the amazing Annie Marsden, to celebrate 106 years of life and laughter and service. More on Mossley in a couple of weeks when I am back there for longer.

Being at home but not at work is a little strange but it is good. The weather this week has been glorious and I have taken the opportunity to do a lot of walking, photography, reading and pondering in the sunshine, catching up with friends and just taking time. My book is coming on! Hastings is packed today with people enjoying the warmth and everyone looks happy.

I've been doing some thinking this week about people needing to know that they matter. There are so many broken people out there who need to know they are part of something, that somebody somewhere cares. Last Sunday and this, I have dropped into the two largest Anglican churches in our town to see what community feels like from the outside, how faith is communicated and if I feel I matter at the end and how I put the message of the worship into practice.

Sunday 1st May saw me at St John's Church in Upper St Leonards, a high church with plenty of incense flowing. I was warmly welcomed, the liturgy was beautiful, the choir excellent, the service was informal with down to earth folk leading it, yet extremely formal in our approach to God. The preacher was excellent reminding us that, using the Revelation passage set for last Sunday, in the end if we trust God, we must believe in the end there will be a new world. We matter and because we matter God sends us into the world to help him in the work of redemption. I was impressed that children were involved in the procession coming in bringing their own bible and candle to the front, then taking them out to their own session then coming back in to join everyone for the sacrament. It was a happy and uplifting morning and I would worship there if I wanted somewhere to go.

This Sunday, today, saw me at Holy Trinity, Hastings, at the 11.15 service. HTH is a plant from Holy Trinity Brighton which is a plant from Holy Trinity Brompton of Alpha fame. A new Alpha course beginning on Wednesday was being heavily advertised this morning. Did I matter here and was I equipped to be a Christian tomorrow from this service? Well, I was spoken to on arrival, given a quality cup of coffee and a pain au chocolat (had I known this would happen I wouldn't have had a bacon sandwich and a coffee before in the cafe opposite!) I was chatted to, and asked if I was new etc. The vicar, Simon, spent time talking to new people and was keen to make sure they were getting to know others and feeling part of it. I was amused by the countdown clock on the screens telling us how long it was til service began. Good idea! A quality music group lead us in about six songs, none of which I knew. It was very informal, people brought coffee and pastries into the worship, chatted to each other as the songs were happening, some had arms in the air, some were speaking in tongues, some were whispering "yes Jesus" throughout, some sat, some stood. The songs were mostly about blood and sin being wiped away. We had communion, a set C of E order in the middle of the service which felt a bit strange, then the vicar preached on being clothed in Christ using three Old Testament stories to illustrate people who didn't feel they mattered. This included 2 Samuel 9 - the story of David showing kindness to Mephiboseth who replies in verse 8: "what is thy servant that thou shouldest look upon such a dead dog as I am?" The vicar told us all we matter only if we are clothed with Christ, have our sins washed away and ask for forgiveness. Then the service ended with the congregation standing to ask the Holy Spirit to come, and an invitation for prayer ministry. No final hymn. The vicar said "thank you everyone" and everyone was invited to a picnic in the park.

In the past, I have been very critical of conservative evangelical worship. This morning I was determined to go with an open mind. A lot of it was good, professional, welcoming, attractive, and free. But I was left uneasy that the world outside was not mentioned at all, I was told I matter if I accept Christ but was not told what difference  that makes to Monday morning and the challenge of tomorrow. I was not challenged to change the world. I was okay and life was okay in him - Amen! The community there were clearly happy and vibrant and it is growing. But I left thinking of what the late Graham Slater at Hartley Victoria College when we trained for ministry used to say when he came to access our worship: "where was your clincher, young man?"

That verse though Simon, the vicar used from a chapter of the bible I have never read is a powerful one which is where a lot of people are: feeling they are a "dead dog" - worth nothing. I firmly believe the mission of the church is to be community which embraces people and makes a difference. My ecclesiology is very much Sunday worship or worship any way is merely to top us up, remind us of the ways of God in order to be incarnate and sacramental in the world, in the mess of life. Part of the worship this morning offered me a Jesus who is sugary sweet - not really what I see when I read of him. People are yearning for people of faith to make a difference in the world, to offer them community. I went and saw a traumatic film on Monday "Son of Saul" - one man's story of the Holocaust at Auschwitz Birkenau. A horrible two hours reflecting on people being treated like dead dogs by others who believed they could treat people who were different to them like they want to create a pure race. An article in the New Statesman describes the film as "your close up on hell." And while we pray that sort of thing will never happen again there are people around us who are going through hell today. And worship surely of a God who suffers (not that there was any of that this morning) is about redeeming the world and changing it one life at a time - isn't it?

So how to create community and bring the dead dogs into believing that they matter? Well, I am drawn to Henri Nouwen who said "When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives means the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain or touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand." That is what genuine relational community is - one person at a time. I am blessed with people in my life who do that for me and I am trying to be that for others. So, while this morning was hard, it has helped me discern more who I am and what I am led to be and do, and so I am glad I went.

Next week, worship in sunny Blackpool led by my friend and a silver band! Very different.