The worship leader in the service we were at last Sunday evening reminded us of something in John Pritchard’s book, “The Work of a Priest”. A ministerial student handed his supervisor a sermon he’d spent ages on and handing it over he asked “will that do?” The supervisor replied “will that do what?”
We want God to do something. As I start the beginning of my final sabbatical month, it’s becoming clearer to me sacred spaces are a sign that God might still be doing something today. Churches that open their doors need to be relevant and make the message of divine love in
a mad world accessible to a climate of uncertainty and searching for meaning. The Ukraine situation has for some places given them a focus to offer space to seek God or lament to God. Whatever. We need to make encounter with him possible for those who need it most.
This week began with Mothering Sunday. I find Mothering Sunday difficult. I didn’t have the closest relationship with my mother. I’ve also seen a lot of upset caused with insensitive actions with flowers given out with “we have some left over so you women who have no children can have some.” Seriously! We returned to the leper chapel, St Mary Magdalen’s in Ripon for worship. My mind wandered. I couldn’t engage with the sermon. But it was nice to be back there and we were made very welcome again.
I’m sensing on this journey that sacred spaces are there in 2022 as a reminder of the divine still being about. We can choose to ignore them. Sacred spaces that are growing are now deliberately invitational and attractive and make you want to go inside them. Rubbish entrances are a turn off and notice boards that are out of date! I wasn’t expecting to be blown away by two vast spaces on Sunday afternoon. We discovered Selby Abbey. I wasn’t expecting it to be so enormous in a small town. I had it to myself which was awesome. It led me to see that presence beyond me which I needed after the morning service. I’ll be back.
We then discovered another vast space at Howden Minster, serving an even smaller town. I had it to myself like Selby. I’m so enjoying silent pilgrimage alone in churches. Empty churches can touch the soul. We need fellowship and stuff but sometimes we also need space to just focus and feel that presence which is there. The trick I’ve discovered is to visit some of these places just before they are due to close.
Ukraine has been at the heart of this sabbatical in my thinking and it’s been interesting to see how churches have offered people a space to turn to God or just sit in silence. Howden Minster had the best board outside I’ve seen in these weeks. It was inviting and also mentioned praying for other conflicts in the world which are really being forgotten. There was a prayer tree and an opportunity to write prayers which some children had done. It was good to see lots had been in the church to use it.
We ended up on Sunday evening at Choral Evensong at Beverley Minster, another vast and awesome building. The Psalm was Psalm 30 which is very relevant for these times. I was struck by these verses in the Book of Common Prayer: “Sing praises unto the Lord, O ye saints of his: and give thanks unto him for a remembrance of his holiness. For his wrath endureth but the twinkling of an eye, and in his pleasure is life: heaviness may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.” How we need to know God remembers us. How we need when feeling heavy in the night of our problems that joy comes in the morning. The worship leader in her sermon spoke of our fear of being forgotten. The good news of the Gospel is that we are worth something…
It was good to have a meal together in Beverley after the service. We haven’t eaten inside for over two years but we found a tapas bar with outside tables. It was freezing but it was good to have some normality for a change eating out at a table rather than take away in the car. I noticed we were near Toll Gavel church. I was last there for an ordination service in 1998, the year before mine. It was good seeing it again to see how you can make your front entrance look welcoming.
I had a different couple of visits this week to see what image of God was given to a generation in Victorian times which faced poverty and injustice. I was able on Monday to visit at last the workhouse museum in Ripon. The conditions pre some reforms for the inmates were horrific. I was struck by the funeral bit in the museum. Many had no funeral and unmarked graves like they didn’t matter. We used to label some people imbeciles or idiots or lunatics if they had mental illness and lock them away. I was also struck by the fact prayers and worship were forced on you. The message about God would have been of a punitive one who you begged for mercy from. I noted the baths. And the sign not to ask for more hot water as the amount of hot water you got was not your decision!
I followed up this visit with a first trip to Saltaire to see how Titus Salt formed a community for his workers to look after them. His ideas were driven by his Congregationalist faith. I didn’t explore long
as the sleet was driving down. It felt a bit strange to see a mill now housing a lot of very posh shops but I guess I’m seeing a lot of buildings which have outlived their original use now used for something else.
My week ended with two visits to two rural churches. The spire at Baldersby St James church between Ripon and Thirsk can be seen from quite a distance. I was very impressed with the church as the pilgrim and tourist and community are clearly very important. There were a lot of good welcome signs, tea and coffee were available as was a loo!
I wasn’t quite sure about Edelweiss and I know him so well blasting out but someone clearly thought the visitor didn’t need silence!
On Saturday I went to St Andrew’s at Grinton in Swaledale. It’s known locally as the cathedral of the Dales. It has a hermit’s call in it! I was struck by the fact it has a Ukrainian flag flying proudly on its tower. I’ve not lived through a time like this. Flying flags and tying blue and yellow ribbons to gates and fences and opening churches for prayer are signs that deep down, whether we profess a faith or not, most of us believe in the greater good, and when things aren’t right, we come together to make a statement this just cannot me. For those of us with a faith, we believe in resurrection. We stand firm. We seek the sacred in life, and then when we find it we do something about it.
The Psalmist in Psalm 30 wasn’t having an easy time. He knew God was there though. He voiced his pain and then he remembered what God is like. Joy comes in the morning! I found this prayer while writing this which maybe sums up this week’s journey: it’s one of Malcolm Duncan’s nite blessings:
May the light of God's grace touch your face. When all around you feels dark and uncertain, may you be given the ability to look up, and may you be reminded that there is more for God to do and for you to discover. Don't let the darkness win - stand in the light.
Isn’t that Christian hope in a nutshell?
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