My sabbatical blog 7: Needing Community

I have spent this last week at my Mum's - the longest I have stayed with her in 22 years!

Last Sunday I was privileged to lead two acts of worship at High Street Methodist Church in Harpenden, one of the largest Methodist churches in the Connexion. I wanted to see how a large church is a community. High Street when I was on the Circuit staff as a lay worker from 1991 to 1994 was very high, largely down to the minister then who used to make us stand for the Gospel! In recent times there was a parallel service held at the same time - a contemporary service with a worship band in a fully refurbished hall and a traditional service with a robed choir and an anthem in the church.The  current minister, as the contemporary service has outgrown the hall has altered things so they now have a contrmporary service at 9.15 then coffee then a traditional service at 12 in the same space with coffee in the middle. It is not a model I am familiar with, so I was glad to play with it and see how it felt. 

The 9.15 service was led by a very competent worship leader and an excellent band. I preached and presided, with no written liturgy over a very informal communion with stations, which worked well. I knew none of the songs and wondered whether they were really congregational but got swept away with then as the band led them though. The band had an excellent soloist and violinist. I enjoyed the worship - it was much less noisy and less out of my comfort zone than I expected. I knew very few of the congregation - it was younger. 

With the communion we finished at 10.30 and after greeting people I grabbed a coffee in the great Wesley's coffee shop. I think I had one conversation then found the steward for the morning tell me it was 10.55 and five minutes to the next service! I went to the vestry and put my robes on as this was a more formal service and prayed with a choir - a very large robed choir - in the choir vestry before processing in. I used to get very nervous preaching at High Street - a rare treat for those of us who came from the villages!! The procession in was the worst bit! The second service went well - an older  - in the main - congregation: my nursery school teacher was there for goodness sake!! I did a sheet with written responses which was appreciated and preached from the pulpit which was appreciated and took the opportunity to try some big hymns. The choir had learnt the set tune to Best of all is God is with us and I taught them the lovely Iona hymn the love of God comes close. We ended with the seven verse wonder of Wesleyan theology : let earth and heaven agree. I had a good time but admitted mid way though the second service I was shattered! I am not sure whether the model got its best out of me. I was apparently seven and a half minutes longer sermon wise in service number 2!

I wanted to discover whether with diverse needs you keep a large church together. There seemed to me two very distinct congregations. How do you hold all the needs of people in worship together? Or don't you? And if there are two distinct congregations how do all views and inputs contribute to the life of the church? What's membership of the Church council like? A friend told me she hasn't seen people who go to the second service for ages as for family reasons she goes to the first one. I had a good time and everyone was very gracious - I went into church on Tuesday and people were talking about my services and when could I come again. I went away knowing I'm not called to minister to a large church though !! 

High Street though got me thinking this week about having our needs met in worship. I still have the Anglican evensong and evening prayer bug. I've not had the easiest week but in other ways something has happened this week which has changed so much for the better (!!!!) How do we bring our needs and all of life into worship? I've done four evening services this week at 5pm - one at the Parish Church in Harpenden with three of us there and one choral evensong and two evening prayers at St Albans Abbey.

The Psalter this week has invited us to bring our deepest needs even unhealthy thoughts into worship. On Monday a glorious choir from the royal school of church music sang a fabulous setting of Psalm 136 : his glory endures for ever! Og, the king of Basan has born smited! See Numbers 21! Then last night, again after a difficult day I heard Psalm 141: a wish for enemies to fall into their nets as we avoid their dainties and pass by in safety. I sat there thinking how important it is to bring what you need into worship, perhaps different styles of worship are the way forward. Perhaps it doesn't matter if one church has different parts which never meet. As long as all the parts are represented in its governance - huge issues here - my Messy Church families are as much a part of church as those who come to traditional worship on a Sunday morning but do not yet make any major policy decisions as to our future. Perhaps now it doesn't how we approach God to meet our needs as long as we do it. 

The other area re community that has hit me this week has been the need to have others with us to share life with. I have found in this journey so far the amazing power of praying honest prayers. Lets pray together the enemy will be got!! When you go to evensong or evening prayer it's done with strangers usually! I've also found revisiting important places that are part of me important. I have felt close to my Dad this week. Dad died at 50 in 1985: I am 50 next birthday. I went to Kimpton on Thursday where my Dads side of the family came from and where, in the chapel, now sadly shut, I led my first solo act of worship in 1987. We had some lovely Circuit times on the Green. It was powerful to return. Those special places remain part of you and make you who you are.

Also this week I have been blessed and surprised that my needs are met and my self worth built up as I trust and open up. We are meant to be in community - whether as a faith group or just with someone  who loves us! 

Tomorrow I am off to evensong at the cathedral in Peterborough, then I need to get my head round five weeks and a few days in Shetland. Next Sunday at the Methodist Church in Whiteness. Last there at the end of a holiday club I led 20 years ago! 

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.          

                     

My sabbatical blog 3 - yearning for community

I usually write my sermon on a Saturday afternoon - it is odd to be at home and have a Saturday afternoon where I don't need to write one - although I have services to write for 22nd and 29th May which I am leading as part of sabbatical reflections and must begin to think about them soon as I am soon on my travels again. I am using Saturday here to blog after a through clean and sort of my house. Strangely therapeutic!

This last week I returned to Edinburgh after my retreat on Holy Island for a few days simply watching the city and doing touristy things. I was struck as I walked round how many people are simply yearning for community all around us.

There is the community that is formed through a shared activity. On Monday I braved wind and hail to go on a fun three hour boat trip on the Firth of Forth under the two bridges and under the new Queensferry crossing being built. How tragic that a workman was killed on it later in the week. Those of us who braved sitting outside had a great time being blown about. "The boat may move up and down or sideways unexpectedly" said your man. We laughed together. We also reflected how many of our fellow passengers stayed inside and therefore didn't see very much, a waste of the time and money really.





There is the community that is formed through a shared cause. On Princes Street on Tuesday I passed a protest campaign for better wages for the lowest paid. I signed the petition. People were stopping to chat. Some to disagree with the arguments but it was interesting to watch people coming together passionate for change. I was invited in the evening to a rally for a second independence vote (which I didn't go to!)

There is the community people say they want to build. I was in Edinburgh the week before the Scottish Parliament election, so there was plenty to read and watch, the different parties views all wanting to make life better. I visited the Scottish Parliament which was an interesting morning.


One scene though hit me hard about yearning for community. There seemed to be an awful lot of homeless people on the streets in Edinburgh, perhaps more than I see in London when I go there. I watched a young girl for ages with her head bowed down to the ground and her hands clasping a paper cup inviting people to put change in it. She wasn't going to make eye contact, like she was not worthy of being in the same space as them. I was bothered by her. That morning I had visited a really encouraging project in the West End of the city called Social Bite. Social Bite is a project which helps homeless people, many of the workforce were homeless themselves. It is a simple idea, you go in and order your coffee and your bacon sandwich and you pay for yours but also for another coffee and another bacon sandwich for someone on the street to have later. The cafe opens in the evening for homeless people to go in to eat and be with others. It seemed to me to be an expression of hospitality for the stranger. It hit me after my day first being here, then seeing that girl, then hearing the vote in Parliament to take in children who are refugees had been lost. It was powerful that I went to evensong the next day where the prayers included the phrase "remember the refugee and the exile."            





I discovered a new really special and important sacred space while in Edinburgh - St Mary's Episcopal Cathedral, an awesome building and the wonder of sung evensong touched my soul. I may well have transferred to the Scottish Episcopal Church and not return in July!! The choir were magnificent every night, the anthem in amazing acoustics went towards heaven, and I especially enjoyed for two weeks in this space and on Holy Island reading Psalms very slowly or hearing them sung. From Sunday to Tuesday it took six services to get through Psalm 119, the longest Psalm in the Psalter. On the day I met the girl, encountered Social Bite, hit social protest, reflected on politics and words about justice, we hit an amazing part of Psalm 119, just right, because I had that girl on my brain as I entered the cathedral and prepared for worship. The cathedral used (of course) the Book of Common Prayer and so the Psalms are there in the King James Version, in my opinion the best version of the Bible to encounter their power. A lot of more modern versions slaughter the original meaning.
The phrase that hit me was from verse 83 - perhaps the plight of the outsider still believing in God and doing through the motions but hit hard by life. I love the Psalms because the writer has a rubbish day and says so: "for I am become like a bottle in the smoke..."
I have had to get my commentary out to get the verse! Something about being choked by life, not able to breathe, Clarke's commentary is helpful: in the eastern countries their bottles are made of skins; one of these hung in the smoke must soon be parched and shrivelled up. This represents the exhausted state of his body and mind by long bodily affliction and mental distress.
Is not the Christian call simply to lead people from whatever state they find themselves into community? It was the hope of the Psalmist that faithfulness to God despite hell on earth happening to him or her would in the end bring hope. Verse 83 ends "but I have kept your statutes."
I also wondered why people dropped into the Cathedral at 5.30pm when they could have gone home, instead of spend 50 minutes there. Perhaps they as much as the homeless, the exile, the victim, the forgotten, need to know they are included too? The Cathedral certainly changed me, that's for sure. 
I am returning in November. 

    

So that's my thoughts on community from week three. Next time I will reflect on some acts of worship I will experience this coming week. Tomorrow I am worshipping in a Methodist Church in my neighbouring Circuit, on Monday I will be in London so will try and get to evensong in St Paul's Cathedral, on Tuesday I will be at a funeral in Mossley where nearly a whole town I reckon will come together to celebrate an amazing lady...

As I thought about how to end this I looked at the pile of books by my desk. I found a little book I bought on a visit to Canterbury Cathedral, called "Pilgrim's Guide and Journal: Information and Inspiration for your Sacred Journey." At the end of the book there are two quotes about having found community on a journey you have to be different - first a prayer of a former slave preacher: "Lord, we ain't what we want to be; we ain't what we ought to be; we ain't what we gonna be, but, thank God, we ain't what we was." Then the blessing given you when you end the walk on pilgrimage to Santiago Cathedral down the El Camino de Compostela:
"Keep the pilgrim spirit always. Now go and live your lives without fear."

I have found in three and a bit weeks community where you encounter it in its joy and surprise can bless you beyond measure. The challenge in me is to make it happen for others who feel like the Psalmist in her/his 83rd verse, and that poor girl facing the ground and her paper cup. How can we work for a world where all are included and can get on with life without fear?
Perhaps the new Scottish Parliament will sort it all!

My sabbatical blog 2 - Holy Island

I am writing this blog in my hotel room in Edinburgh as it has turned bitterly cold outside! I will write about Edinburgh and going home and a trip to Mossley for a funeral of an amazing lady next week but this writing is about what an amazing six day retreat on Holy Island has done to me.

My former colleague Kerry Tankard sent an R S Thomas poem to me on Sunday called "Gift":
Some ask for the world and some are diminished in the receiving of it.
You gave me only this small pool that the more I drink from, the more overflows me with sourceless light."

Lindisfarne for me is that small pool - the more I go there the more overflowed with light I feel. When the taxi turns the corner after Beal and you see the causeway and the Island in the distance you are overwhelmed with peace. I wonder what tourists going over for the day get from the place as they wander around? I can't see how you can't come away with something changed in you. This was my eighth retreat in Cambridge House and for me perhaps being part of a sabbatical - and already rested and blessed from my days with the Emmaus House team in this City, it was my best so far.

I really appreciated several things. First the privilege of community - the sense of no longer strangers but pilgrims. A time of deep conversation over meals, some deep stuff shared with real trust (perhaps a model we should revisit in churches where so many are destroyed when trust breaks down. Remember the Methodist class meeting and what it did and the call to watch over one another in love!) This time it was different as I shared this time with people I knew from before either on the Island previously or elsewhere. Jacqui, Lis, Kim and I got on well - we had a lovely evening for example sharing a bottle of wine in a hotel bar and Lis and I had two afternoon tea meetings. Kim and I (both Superintendent Methodist presbyters) put the church to rights one evening over a few glasses of cherryade as well. Very civilised! There were other retreatants with us Joanna, Sue and Fiona who we got to know less well but all of them on leaving said goodbye like we had shared a special space and time together. Community is built when we listen to each other's stories, when we respect other people's journey, when we invest time in the other. Are we too busy doing stuff to the detriment of building each other up? People want to be wanted and valued.

Secondly I appreciated time to simply be in the silence of God's presence. This was best done on Thursday afternoon when I did my once a visit long walk over the dunes to the most amazing beach
ever - and to have it to yourself is an awesome thing. Every time though I think I know how to get back but always manage to have to scramble under a wire fence as the path out is nowhere near! I   then sat by the causeway with the tide in in absolute quiet for ages - so long I got sunburnt - just listening to the birds sing, cuddy Ducks quack and seals in the distance make whatever noise seals make and the gentle wind. I remember the poem " a poor life this if, full of care, we have no time to stand and stare." (William Henry Davies "Leisure" ) Lindisfarne reminds me every time I am a human being not a human doing. Do we need to build into every day some time to be silent and watch?

Finally I think I am really enjoying receiving worship and not leading it - though I am doing some on this journey. The evening prayer every day in St Mary's Church was powerful - a huge awareness that being there I am becoming part of the story of faithful Christian worship held on Lindisfarne since Aidan arrived in the 7th century. The rhythm of the prayers is beautiful - once you get used to the pause as you read aloud at the black dot! I loved Canon Kate every night reminding us that we need to thank God for everything we have done, the people we have met, that have shown us that small pool to return to R S Thomas. I also deeply appreciated receiving communion kneeling this side of a rail on Sunday morning.

When Holy Island "gets you" your perspective alters. God's Kingdom is come! It is a thin place full of small pools. The God moments are many from worshipping, eating, listening, sharing with God's other creatures this bit of earth - who knew an afternoon watching sheep and lambs can bring you so much joy? When you meet with fellow children of God away from church programmes we talk about life - not refurbishments or fund raising or damp - important though these things are. If we are the people of God then we need more God time and we need to create the time in our daily routine. I am writing this having been to evensong - I have prayed at 5.30 for the last two weeks and have found it to be so helpful. Can I do this every day in my prayer space at home - especially when I am back at work after this time? Also time like this retreat time reminds us of the power and the possibility of God.
I read this in the quiet room at Cambridge House waiting for a taxi on Sunday. In a book on the Celtic saints was this amazing paragraph:
"One of the hallmarks of the saints (like Aidan and Cuthbert) was their recognition of the immanence of the Kingdom and their ability to live in it daily. The saints teach us to let go, relax and let the order of the universe flow through us. We learn to give thanks constantly for the present moment and to be satisfied. This dwelling in the Kingdom of heaven gives us an amazing freedom. We let go of judgments and preoccupations and know that all is well and moving towards healing.
We slowly learn to allow things to be as they are. We do not need to make things happen, rather we allow their coming. What people say and do cannot make us unhappy at a deep level, for our joy is a constant state to be entered into at will, it is unchanging and exists beyond appearances."
("Celtic Pilgrimage - Sites, seasons and Saints" by Elaine Gill and David Everett)

The writers go on to remind us the purpose of going to places like Holy Island is to heal the soul and to set aside time in a place set apart when we can consider and reconsider without busyness.

It should add depth and meaning to life when you are back home - that small pool.
So thank you Holy place for your power and your peace and your placing of me in community with others and with you, with the saints and with the God who has always something new to show us. I will be back next year.

My first sabbatical blog - 20 April 2016

Two weeks into this sabbatical I am finally somewhere I can get internet access! So I am sitting in the bar of the Manor House Hotel on Holy Island writing this.

It has been the most amazing two weeks! I feel so blessed and am so grateful for this gift of time and space as I do some research and sharing about what makes community - and I spend time resting, reading, praying and meeting old and new friends on the way. 

Much to my surprise I am being led to write a book as the days go by. I have 100 days off duty and I am pondering 100 reflections for 100 days - very much a working title but perhaps a picture, a thought and a prayer for travelling people and communities moving on. This has developed from my posting images every day so far on Facebook - friend request me if you want to join this aspect of my time! 

I think so far I have learnt four things about journeying and finding community.

1. You have to let baggage go and remember where you are starting from. I had to sit up til 1.25am on Wednesday 6th April to get my list done and I know there were things left undone! I had to get to a point where others were trusted to carry stuff on, some quite big stuff. I felt waking up a few hours later a real sense of peace. Also there was nothing ahead apart from agreed preaching appointments I was responsible for! I began sabbatical returning to my home town of Harpenden, taking Mum to hospital. I stayed two nights in my old bedroom! I walked round Harpenden town centre, a beautiful place, I went out with two good friends who were in youth group with me, I sat in the magnificent sanctuary of High Street Methodist Church on a pew my Grandad probably made in 1930 and dedicated this time to God. I am looking forward to leading worship at High Street next month. How you start a journey is important. Who you are and your beginnings in life can shape who you are. It was important I had time at the beginning to deal with stuff, lists, tidying, washing, mother, concentrated prayer time to travel well. 

2. Communities and you change! It was an absolute joy to be invited to return to lead worship at Oakham and Empingham churches in Rutland, ten years on from leaving them. It was very strange staying in a manse I had lived in. Charlotte and Leo Osborn were wonderfully kind hosts. I loved leading communion at Oakham - we had a real celebration. They felt lighter and apparently I have changed too! Someone said " I sat there and thought "is this the Ian we had here 100's of years ago?""

Empingham in the afternoon was a wonderful occasion - the tenth anniversary of our refurbishing the premises. The Circuit turned out in big numbers and we opened a time capsule we put together ten years ago - a very smelly Rutland Times and a 90p Methodist Recorder and hopes for 2016 written by the 2006 congregation. Some of the folk are not here now. Others still are. Going back somewhere you have shared you hear stories of how things have moved. At Oakham it was good to see people I did not know and to remember people who had died since I was there. Two members had died the week before I led the worship. 

3. Christian communities when open and inclusive can grow or at least give people life. I was glad to have Emmaus House in Edinburgh recommended to me. A Christian community set up by the Scottish Episcopal Church, a lovely community, a shared breakfast table with people from all over the world (and Selsey!) in six days and a great prayer time each morning in a chapel in a shed. I discovered in Edinburgh walking around how many churches were open and doing community stuff. St Johns at the west end of Princes Street is an inclusive community open to all. Sunday worship there was great - a lovely liturgy and a beautiful sung setting of the Beatitudes, I also discovered St Mary's Cathedral, one of the most awesome sacred spaces I have ever been in. I sat in there for hours watching people come and go, and returned twice for worship, one amazing choral Eucharist and one choral evensong. I might have asked for a transfer and not return! I did find the City of Edinburgh Methodist Church and its wonderful cafe, and also I appreciated lunchtime prayers at St Giles on the Royal Mile. Numbers coming to acts of worship in these places were quite large - and quite young. All searching I guess for something. In Newcastle on Monday I visited Brunswick Methodist, open for coffee and also while I was there holding a listening ear service and a young parents and carers drop in. A question I have is as people drop in to things how does a church keep everything running? Do new groups and more acts of worship create new leaders from within them? How do you lead droppers in to Christian faith and commitment? Or are people wanting needs met and then return when they need them meeting again, like me and going to retreat places or Lindisfarne regularly? For now I rejoice in churches being open and out there. In Edinburgh there is also some fab inter faith stuff going on - Sikhs giving out food on the North Bridge for example and talking to clients about faith.

4. That in order to do anything you need to take in. So I am here for six days on Holy Island in the wonderful community of Marygate House and this time here with by coincidence two lovely people I have been here with before which makes shared meals more fun! More on this bit next time I find some wifi, but just to say the fabulous weather, daily prayer in the church and sitting watching the world go by is just great. 

So that's my first two weeks. One final thought on community for now - at the bar here is a group of young adults who clearly know each other well and those who are meant to be working. They keep looking at me waiting for me to leave as I am the only one in here apart from them! Community that says it is open needs to be open - I feel uncomfortable so I am going. Perhaps a lesson when our churches are perceived as private parties!!