Sabbatical week 3 began badly folks. I stayed up watching curling. Why is curling at 3am so addictive? Anyway I overslept so our plans for my second Sunday off were not to be. We ended up at Choral Evensong at Ripon Cathedral. I’m loving how each Sunday in worship my brain gets going with a theme for the week ahead.
with one accord our parting hymn of praise;
we stand to bless thee ere our worship cease;
then, lowly kneeling, wait thy word of peace.
Grant us thy peace upon our homeward way;
with thee began, with thee shall end the day.
guard thou the lips from sin, the hearts from shame,
that in this house have called upon thy Name.
Grant us thy peace, Lord, through the coming night;
turn thou for us its darkness into light;
from harm and danger keep thy children free,
for dark and light are both alike to thee.
Grant us thy peace throughout our earthly life;
peace to thy church from error and from strife;
peace to our land, the fruit of truth and love;
peace in each heart, thy Spirit from above.
Thy peace in life, the balm of every pain;
thy peace in death, the hope to rise again;
then, when thy voice shall bid our conflict cease,
call us, O Lord, to thine eternal peace.”
On Tuesday, we ventured into a part of the Dales we didn’t know at all - Dentdale. It is a really lovely part of the world. I’m really enjoying the time given to me to see the wonders of creation especially the remoteness on our doorstep. I was pleased to capture a train going across Dent Head viaduct on a photo…
I want to see some Methodist chapels in a rural context on this journey and whether they were open! So we arrived in the village of Dent and I found Dentdale Methodist Chapel just down the road from the car park. The door was open.
The chapel had just a few chairs out with a table in front of them. It looked a bit sad if I’m honest. I wondered how many come to the 2pm service when it is held. They still use the stencil thing I had at school in the 1970’s to do posters for a coffee morning!
I picked up a leaflet in the chapel about the origins of some of the free churches on the North Yorkshire and Cumbria border in the Western Dales. We drove to find Cautley chapel which is in a beautiful setting at the foot of the fells with a graveyard (as had the chapel in Dent) but the door was locked.
I later found in a set of minutes of the Cumbria District Synod, the chapel at Cautley had ceased to meet. I found myself overwhelmed with sadness. We are finding so many little chapels turned into houses on this journey. The Sedbergh Methodist Circuit has only a few churches in it. And what do you do with graveyards in churches that have closed?
We ended Tuesday as we were near the M6 going into Carnforth. We found the station of Brief Encounter fame - a space where two souls met in a refreshment room for risky and exciting encounter!
“Could you really say goodbye? Never see me again?”
“Yes, if you’d help me.
“I love you Laura. I shall love you always until the end of my life. I can’t look at you now cause I know something. I know this is the beginning of the end. Not the end of my loving you but the end of our being together. But not quite yet darling. Please: Not quite yet.”
“Very well. Not quite yet.”
On Wednesday, I went to visit Copt Hewick, a village a few miles away from us. The church was open. It was quite pleasant but I was sad it only has one 9am Sunday service a month in it. Over the road was the long since closed Methodist chapel. I’m passionate about rural presence. I am so sad to have seen, even in just three weeks, little faithful sacred spots clearly struggling and desperately holding on, and others who have been turned into rather nice homes or tragically left abandoned.
My chaplaincy duty at Fountains Abbey this week was very wet! I abandoned walking about after about an hour as they were very few people about. To try and keep dry, I went into the porter’s lodge. The porter used to keep silence with his head bowed while the monks gathered for the different prayer times of the day. There were seven of them. I’m keen to explore more worship times other than Sunday morning. Imagine reintroducing seven services every day! A bit of terce and sext.
I discovered sext when I led a series of Lent studies for a high church Anglican community. I didn’t know how to respond when the vicar asked me at the end of the session “are you joining us for sext?” There has to be some benefit to us as a community of regular prayer and quiet doesn’t there? We struggle with gathering times of prayer today in my tradition.
On the way back from Fountains, I called in at the little church at Aldfield, dedicated to St Laurence the Martyr. I was surprised to see box pews and a three decker pulpit in it. It was a lovely space. A community has gathered in this spot since the 13th century. Simon Jenkins in his thousand best churches says it feels more like a Methodist chapel. It does!
Our last journey this third week was to the church at Lastingham.
Lastingham Church was built on the site of St. Cedd’s monastery. There is a crypt which was built over the place it is believed Cedd is buried. I found my time in the crypt deeply moving. It was oozing with sacredness and peace. It felt soaked in the prayers of the faithful who have descended into it over approximately seven centuries. I was glad to be part of that group for a few moments.
This third week of sabbatical hasn’t been the easiest. My brain has thought several times it must be time to go back to my churches. I’ve had to refocus. Every church I’ve visited this week has had a story. Some of them are wondering I guess where the story is going now. The story of the faithful though has seen that faithful go through really hard times.
The monks at Fountains had a hard life, they went through the Black Death, and then had to face the inevitable surrender to Henry VIII as he brutally dissolved all they knew. Cedd and his brother Chad who followed him at Lastingham lived lives of courage. Remember we aren’t persecuted for being Christians!
The little chapels in Dentdale were built to serve those building the railways who lived in desperate poverty. The chapels gave folk dignity, education and shared the faith with folk the established church shunned. I guess this week I’ve learnt In many ways, as the Psalmist’s words we sang last Sunday the Lord will receive our prayers. We enter his space and leave our concerns with him.
Stuart Burgess, who was the President of the Methodist Conference the year I was ordained, has written a lovely little book called “Making Connections: some holy places and people of Yorkshire” - reflecting on sitting in the crypt at Lastingham which he describes as overwhelming, offers a prayer a Celtic Christian would wear as a charm to protect him from danger and keep his mind on the strength of God. I pray it’s our prayer too…
“May God shield you on every step. May Christ keep you on every path. May the Spirit bathe you in every pass.”
No comments:
Post a Comment