Cycling in the Cotswolds

It is more than 4 decades since I arrived at Bible College. I was two weeks late. It was a Monday afternoon when I was shown into room one. It was a luxury free, spartan space with 7 beds. I was told that the 2nd bed on the right was mine. The 3rd bed on the right had a dishevelled pile of blankets on it. Suddenly a grizzled face appeared from under the blankets. I recognised my friend Allan who I had known since we were 17. "Why have you come here Ian?" he asked, "They are all mad here." I soon found my place in the asylum!

Strong friendships were formed in those days that have stood the test of time. Many are people that I do not see regularly, but they have always been and will always be loyal and trustworthy friends.

It has been good to spend some time with Allan this week cycling in the Cotswolds. We have talked and laughed. We have put the world and the church to rights and commiserated with one another over the loss of youth and the aches and pains of the 60 something cyclist! It's been great. So here to friendship...

Wakefield through the lense of memory.

The famous Smith Wigglesworth died in the vestry of this church at the funeral of the Pastor, Wilf Richardson. Jimmy Salter emerged from the vestry to tell the waiting congregation. He said something to the effect, "We are gathered today for the funeral of Wilf Richardson but I first have to announce that just 5 minutes ago Smith Wigglesworth joined Wilf in heaven." A pretty neat way to go.

I don't recall the event. I was 22 days old and didn't want to be away from my Mum. But in Wakefield it was a much repeated story in my youth. The date was 12th March 1947. Wilf Richardson was succeeded by Albert Mellors who was my Pastor. He always had a twinkle in his eye and never preached a short sermon!

Wakefield revisited.

I attended two services today, one in Wakefield Cathedral and one in Wakefield New Life Christian Centre. Both played a big part in my life as a teenager. I was a pupil of The Cathedral School which meant I was in the Cathedral regularly. As a family we worshipped at "Glad Tidings Hall" (now New Life Centre.) As a 12 year old I was embarrassed about the name. Sitting in the Rovers Return on Coronation Street Ena Sharples and Minnie Caldwell often talked about "Glad Tidings 'all" where Ena was caretaker. When the school bus drove past our church the children roared with laughter. They were all bemused that we had our own bit of Coronation Street in the centre of Wakefield. I did not admit to belonging!

There is a certain schyzophrenia involved in putting myself into these two contexts on the same day but nothing I won't recover from.

Lunch with Tom

A sumptuous lunch today! Weight Watch points off the scale! When I was the Anglican Chaplain at HMP Doncaster Tom was Methodist Chaplain. Prison ministry is a serious business but there were times when Tom and I laughed so much the tears rolled down our cheeks! The humour kept us sane in a place where sanity is in short supply. When I left we decided to meet every couple of months for lunch to catch up and to keep the laughter alive.

Tom has been on Sabbatical too. He finished when I started. I discovered we had similar sabbatical objectives. His was 3 fold - to be healthier in mind, body and spirit. Mine were 2 fold - to fitter both physically and spiritually. I forgot about the mind. I guess I was thinking that spiritual health involves mental health. However the development of the mind deserves special attention. Tom has virtually written a book and learned portrait painting during his sabbatical! His mental equipment is smarter than mine to start with!

As for me, well two out of three isn't bad. In any case talking to Tom today was good for my spiritual and mental health. That lunch was a disaster for my physical health! Still, two out of three....

Ian and Lynwen 30 years on.

This weekend Barbs and I saw friends who we haven't seen for years. Ian and Lynwen were young people in Aberaman Church where I became the Minister when I was 26. (The figures are still the same just the opposite way round!) Ian was studying for the ministry at Mattersey and Lynwen was studying Music at Cardiff University. They were a gifted couple and lovely with it!
They still are but not so young now.

For 30 years they have served their Church in Wellingborough. This weekend was a celebration of those 30 years - a surprise organised by their daughter Rebecca. There was much to celebrate. They have grown a great church family now housed in a beautiful building. It was great to be with them.

The holiness of Holy Island.

My Dad's first car was a 1934 Ford Popular. He bought it in 1957 so it was already 23 years old!

He was so proud of it. As a 10 year old boy I was embarrassed by it. Our neighbours the Scotts had a 1956 powder blue Ford Zephyr that purred. Our Ford Popular coughed and croaked when it did anything at all. We often set out hopefully but there was never any guarantee of arriving!



Holy Island was one of those destinations. It was before the causeway was built. We drove across the sands following the poles that indicate a safe crossing. I feared that our car would end as one of the ghostly wrecks. There were pictures of them on the Island - a salutary lesson to those who did not take seriously the onrush of the tide. But we made it. Such a relief!



So it was as a 10 year old I was captivated by Linsdisfarne. It has such a vivid history. But I also knew it was a place of prayer. From here the Gospel was carried into a pagan world. I could not have put it into words as a 10 year old the mystery of Lindisfarne but I knew there was something holy about Holy Island.



I sensed that again as I completed the Cuthbert Way last weekend. It has been spoken of as a 'thin place.' In other words a place where the separation between earth and heaven is gossamer thin. Of course there is a sense in which every place is holy because 'the earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof.' But as I stood on the shore in silent prayer I felt like taking off my shoes.

Reading the Cuthbert Way!

Cuthbert loved the Gospel of John and the Psalms which he called, "the complete David." That's why whilst walking St Cuthbert's Way I made these two books my reading discipline. Cuthbert is said to have known John's Gospel and the book of Psalms by heart. Hardly surprising as the monks of Lindisfarne met 7 times a day for prayer and worship. It was a response to Psalm 119:165 ('Seven times a day I praise you.') All these gatherings were scripture based. As Helen Julian points out in her book 'The Lindisfarne Icon' the whole of the Psalms would be read every week. So little wonder that Cuthbert knew the 'complete David' completely.



During these Sabbatical days I have attended all kinds of churches including charismatically vibrant churches whose worship is exciting. But they don't read the Bible any more! No publicly anyway. Not exciting enough maybe. The preacher reads out his text but there is no separate reading of scripture as part of worship. Reading the Bible and church belong together.... you'd think!!

Catching up.

Last week whilst walking I hadn't any access to the internet so some catching up to do. Talking about catching up I thought when I walked through Yetholme, soaked to the skin at the end of day 2, that I had a great chance to catch up with old friends over a cup of tea. I saw the name "Pinfarthings" on a fine looking house in the middle of the village. A light came on in the dim attic of my brain! "That must be where Bob and Ruth live," I said to myself. When we both lived in North Wales Bob Harrison told me that he would call his house "Pinfarthings" when he found the home to bring up his family. It stirred in my memory that at some point they had moved to Yetholme. "Pinfarthings" is a little village in Gloucestershire where Bob had spent some happy times. So here was a bit of rural Gloucestershire on the Scottish borders. I was so confident that I was already saying, "Put the kettle on" when the door opened. Instead of the grizzled whimsicality of Bob's features I was greeted by the rounder face of a complete stranger. A friendly stranger who invited me in for a cuppa.

I discovered that I was 17 years too late! The new occupant knew of Bob's work as an Evangelist, his association with the village mission and his work among young people in Yetholme. So he had left something worthwhile behind. It would have been cool if he and Ruth had still been there. But I don't think they moved just to avoid me! It brought home to me that we are all on our journey through life and sometimes our paths cross. Sometimes not. We carry the connections. I'm glad of those connections that have enriched my life and brought joy to the journey.

St. Cuthbert's Way

I set off last Wednesday to walk the 62 miles of St. Cuthbert's Way.Weather less than perfect after the first glorious day. Severe weather warnings by grim faced TV forcasters turned out to be accurate. The worst September day in decades in that part of Scotland. N0 weather proof gear is weather proof enough for these conditions. So I was very wet! Paths became streams. Streams became raging torrents. My feet were squelching with every step. I stopped in a wood to wring out my socks. I could have filled my water bottle from them! Didn't, honest. Wet feet in wet socks in wet boots but squelch free. Luxury!

I met no other walkers. Liminal time. That's what I love about walking. Between starting out and destination is the space between. Nothing to distract. No futile attempts at multi-tasking! No tasking at all! All that's to be done is to free the mind. Creative thinking can happen here. Prayer too and thanksgiving to God for the splendours of his creation. I sang spontaneously to entertain the sheep!

I encountered two young men rounding up bullocks on 4 wheel motor bikes. (The men were on the motor bikes!) I stood back to wait for this operation to be completed before walking on. However I was disconcerted when 5 bullocks broke lose and came running at me. This was when I discovered that if there is an olympic event for leaping gates I could qualify! All part of the adventure.

That second day was a great day despite the rain. Something or someone made my pilgrim path glow.