I’ll be blogging once a week through this sabbatical. I’m trying to discover sacred space and what draws people to it, and also I’m trying to stand where others in the story of Christianity in this country stood and shared how exciting the encounter with God is.
Sabbatical learning should make a difference when you return to your churches so I’m hoping to have new ideas how we make our churches open and accessible sacred spaces and how we can be more ready to seek the sacred in the world.
This sabbatical journey began on Tuesday with a really helpful time with a friend on zoom of getting issues in my head to do with work filed away for a while and letting them go, then sharing my hopes for this time and beyond. Sadly I never had a sabbatical support group where this sort of thing happens.
I recognised on Tuesday my desperate need for space, to find my spark again and most of all to look for God around me. So I decided on Tuesday lunchtime to begin this time by sitting in a rural church in silence… I headed for the church at Kirby Hill. A really beautiful church in a lovely setting. Alas, it was locked. There was a key available from a church warden but not knowing the village I didn’t know where to go to get it.
I arrived a bit later in Topcliffe. I found a very large church but again it was not only locked but padlocked! There was a sad Methodist closed building across the road being turned into expensive housing no doubt. I hate seeing churches that have closed.
I guess Tuesday taught me my first lesson on this journey. The sacred is not just found going into a church building! We’ve become so keeping our buildings going focussed, we’ve lost sight that God is down the street, let loose in the world, in the unexpected and the surprise.
I have been reflecting on the call of Moses this week. He found God not in a traditional sacred space but in a bush burning at the side of the road which got his attention. God reminded him it isn’t about going to holy ground often, the place on which we stand is holy. So while it was annoying to find two churches locked and another long abandoned, I had a nice drive out in the sunshine through some pretty villages and felt relaxed… so maybe I met the holy after all…
On the way back home I thought I might try the church in Sharow for my planned quiet. It was open… but not for me… there was a funeral party coming out as I drove up to it! At least it was open for something!
Wednesday saw us in Swaledale. I have a copy of Simon Jenkins’ book on England’s thousand best churches and the little church at Downholme is in it. The first church I’ve got in on this journey! The church is somewhat outside the village. The inside was simple but welcoming. I was the first visitor according to the visitors book since 18 January. I wonder how many they get on a Sunday? There’s not a service every week.
What a beautiful setting! Simon Jenkins describes it as lost in a valley, surrounded only by dales, fields, and drystone walls. A scattering of sheep and cows is serenaded by curlews, permits and (mostly) crows, and he concludes “it is a place of remarkable peace.”
From Downholme we went into Reeth. I used the time while Lis went into a wool and craft shop and then had a phone call in the car to explore a bit. As on Tuesday it was easy to sense God in the fresh air, although I did also find a very scary Christian bookshop. What sort of God is encountered at answers in Genesis.org!?
I decided I’d stick to the glory of creation!
It’s interesting to note people need space. Not necessarily spiritual, but time. That’s already a gift I’m enjoying even a few days into this sabbatical. I’m glad Lis has found a lovely craft place and I laughed out loud calling in the pub to use the necessary and overhearing a conversation on suet puddings and then toilet paper!
“Izal had a rough edge: it was the John Wayne of toilet paper…”
On Thursday, after dipping into a book I found on the bookcase in the hall on The Great North Road, all about delights you can find just off the A1, I went to see the church at Kirk Hammerton. My book told me it is one of the oldest churches in the country having been dedicated to St. Quentin in the ninth or tenth century. I looked up who Quentin was. He seems to have been beheaded as a martyr in the third century in France. I wonder why he had a church in North Yorkshire dedicated to him?
Inside the church was very dark. There were some murals in the lady chapel. I found some light switches but couldn’t find the one that would enable me to see them. A pity. It was good to find a village magazine which showed close working with the Methodist chapel next door. I loved reading the chapel opens for coffee and cake… how fabulous is this paragraph?
“Pop along to chapel, you can leave a prayer on the tree, or just come for a piece of cake and chat with Grace, our minister. You don’t need to be religious, or pray, to be welcome for cake. It’s our way of saying thank you for being an amazing village and loving each other so well over the last eighteen months.” How many people have found the sacred through kindness in Covid times? There’s a chapter for my book!
Thursday afternoon saw me at Fountains Abbey for two hours on the chaplaincy rota. I love wandering about and I’m able to do this more over these months. People come to Fountains Abbey for space, time out, but maybe also to connect with the spiritual. I like to stand in the Abbey and think how many prayers since its institution have been offered in it.
I discovered Studley Royal deer park for the first time on Thursday and the rather amazing Victorian St. Mary’s Church. It isn’t open until Easter so a look inside will have to wait. But it’s opulence and grandeur when churchgoing was at a height is something to think about. Was building a grand place with lots of money really anything to do with sacred space or was it about philanthropic importance? There’s a whole ecclesiastical can of worms that could be opened on that subject!
On Friday afternoon we had a drive into Nidderdale. Here the sacred was easy to encounter in the vastness of the middle of nowhere and when it began to snow!
I wanted to find the church at Middlesmoor, a tiny village at the head of Upper Nidderdale, reached by journeying along a long and very winding road. The village has a lot of cobbled ginnels and in the swirling wind and sleet finding the way to the church wasn’t easy. But it was worth the effort! If only for the view from the churchyard… the heavens are telling the glory of God!
So what have I learnt from the first four days of sabbatical?
1. We need to get our church doors open a lot more. People are wanting to explore the story of divine encounter. A locked door for them is a missed opportunity. People more and more want a place to go and be, and some are looking for that sacred space in a religious building. I hope to explore this more when I do some days with the clergy and team in Ripon Cathedral.
I was so disappointed when I found after a journey to a church on two occasions this week it was locked. I’m still passionate about using our sanctuary space more not just our halls for outside bookings. What’s the point of only using part of our building once a week? Get it open! You’ll be surprised what happens next.
2. We need to learn again that sacred space is everywhere. Perhaps contrary to my last paragraph I have learnt again there is nowhere God cannot be met (except in a vile Jimmy Carr stand up routine maybe.)
I’ve not had much chance to discover the wonder of God’s creation in his own county. Sheep surrounding a rural church, silence apart from birdsong at Fountains Abbey, the drama of clouds in the sky and driving sleet in Upper Nidderdale… I recall Richard Coles saying on a BBC Winter Walk programme he looks forward to retirement and having time to stare at things… to return to Moses, God says to him “the place on which you are standing is holy ground.” If that’s so, how we treat the world and other people in that world matters. Take off your shoes!
And 3. I think even after four days I’m acutely aware I’ve neglected the spiritual discipline of turning aside. Running churches sometimes means church leaders don’t run to God. It’s easier to have your own agenda or just respond to the demands of how we keep the show on the road because seeking God might lead you to new things and we can’t cope with new things… we are tired. But what if we turned aside and got excited about what we saw again?
Canon Cathy Zappa is Canon for Spirituality and Mission at St. Philip’s Cathedral in Atlanta. She writes this in a Lent sermon which is exactly where I find myself - minus a dog…
“ I had a busy week last week, running from one thing to the other, and almost always running behind. I woke up on my day off scattered and exhausted, with a dozen to-dos hanging over my head. I knew I should get straight to work. But I didn’t. Instead, I decided to go on a walk with my dog. Now, usually when I walk, I’m focused on covering a respectable distance in a respectable amount of time. My dog, however, is not; so usually, I set the pace and pull her along. But this time, I let her lead.
She turned out to be a good guide for this particular walk, which was also a prayer. Not at all concerned about keeping a schedule or qualifying our excursion as exercise, she kept turning aside, to smell the roses—and every bush, tree, mailbox, trashcan, pile of poop, and other dogs on the way.
And as I slowed down with her, I noticed that the ground she was sniffing, the ground we were walking on, was sacred ground, indeed; and I was blown away by divine epiphanies all around us: the warm blue sky, deep pink buds outlining the arms of redbud trees, a hawk sailing above me, peace in my own soul.
I saw how much I’d been missing by rushing through my tasks, pursuing some imaginary state called “being caught up” and trying to earn my right to rest--instead of allowing myself to rest and trust in God’s love and care, here and now. I saw how this simple walk—this slow and unproductive and mindful walk-- was a statement of faith, too: faith that I’m more than what I get done; faith that the fate of the world doesn’t rest on my shoulders, after all; faith that God’s got me and the whole world in God’s hands.
What about you? How is God trying to get your attention? And will you turn aside—to see the holy ground under your feet, and to hear the God who is calling to you?”
Isn’t that a fabulous paragraph? More next week… oh, and we are also discovering it’s okay to sleep on a sabbatical too!
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