Woodstock

The back-filling begins.....

Covered Bridge, Woodstock

Woodstock, Vermont is the quintessential New England small town. It has a covered bridge, clapboard houses and a village green with a 19th century, very English-looking, episcopal church at one end. Kathryn and I had visited Woodstock ten years ago on our first ever visit to New England, staying in a B & B for a couple of nights. Never in a thousand years could we have imagined that it would one day be the scene of a momentous family celebration.

St James Episcopal Church

Tim, our younger son, had met Susan Goehring at Middlebury College in Vermont during the overseas year of his degree course at Nottingham University. Their romance blossomed when they both found themselves working in New York a couple of years later and they were married in St Irene's Roman Catholic Church, Carlisle, Massachusetts in August 2011. It was a wonderful occasion, but only the immediate families were able to attend. It was our opportunity to meet for the first time our new American 'in-laws', Rob and Luanne Goehring, Susan's sister, Kristyn, her husband David and their young son, Colin. But the occasion was arranged at short notice with no chance to plan a reception or invite friends from the UK and across the States. So, when they had moved to Bethel, Vermont after the wedding, planning began in earnest for an epic celebration in 2012, in Woodstock, a few miles away.

Woodstock Inn

We left the UK on Thursday 9 August, flying with Aer Lingus via Shannon on the west coast of Ireland to Boston and travelling with Andrew (Best Man in 2011 and 2012) and Jenny, and   my brother-in-law, Keith and sister-in-law, Angie. Jessica, a 'bridesmaid', had flown out three days earlier. US immigration have an outpost in Shannon and you 'enter' the USA there. There were a tense few minutes when I was taken out of line for an interview, apparently because I had the same name as someone on their watch list. Arriving eventually in Boston, we picked up rental cars and drove the two and a half hours on the Interstates through Massachusetts and New Hampshire to Woodstock, and the Woodstock Inn, on the Green, where the reception would be taking place, in the 'Rockefeller Room'. Imagine a son of mine having a wedding reception in a 'Rockefeller Room'!

Rehearsal Dinner

While final preparations were made by the main participants on Friday, there was chance to explore the town before the Rehearsal Dinner at the Quechee Inn. The rehearsal dinner is an American wedding tradition which gives opportunity for the bridal party and partners to relax and get to know one another better on the eve of the big day. It was fun, and the celebrations continued afterwards back at the Woodstock Inn bar as guests began to assemble. We were joined by all the wonderful American friends we had made over the last ten years: Tad Meyer, and his wife Ann Stevenson, who had first invited us to New England, for me to preach during the centenary celebrations at St John's, Beverly Farms, in 2002; Bill Wrede, the Lutheran pastor from New York, who turned up on the doorstep of Beverley Minster Vicarage on a wet February afternoon and who showed such kind and generous hospitality to Tim over his first Christmas so far away from home; and John and Marion Leonard, his 'host parents' in Middlebury, who also demonstrated exceptional kindness to him during his year there. We never cease to be amazed at how our circles of friendship have widened across the Atlantic since that first visit in 2002 and Tim's first sojourn there in 2004/5.

Saturday dawned warm and bright, and spent the morning enjoying a local food festival on the streets of Woodstock. Sadly, though, the weather turned against us before the big event, which began at 4.00 p.m. We arrived at the church under umbrellas, as did the 'bridal party', who had been for photographs to the nearby Billings Farm. A memorable service of Thanksgiving and Rededication was led by Tad Meyer, with family members and Tad's wife, Ann, taking part. Then it was back to the Woodstock Inn and the Rockefeller Room for an evening that was as good as it gets. There was great food and drink; Tim, Andrew, and three of the bridesmaids made outstanding speeches; and as the night wore on, transatlantic friendships were forged, with the older generations seeking the relative quiet of the lobby as the youngsters stepped up the pace on the dance floor.

The pictures tell the story of a day, and a night, that will never be forgotten.

In Church

Photos at the Woodstock Inn

Overwhelmed?

The first dance

Cake, anyone?

Transatlantic Union

The evening hots up

'The Kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who gave a wedding banquet for his son'

Matthew 22:2

Back again!

I have been back from the other side of the Atlantic for a week, and need to apologise to both my blog-readers out there for failing to complete the 'archdeaconsabbatical' story with an account of our travels. I'm back at work now, but determined to complete the 3-month epic. So I'll be trying to 'backdate' over the coming days the story of Tim's 'Marriage Celebration', our wanderings through New England, and our cruise from Boston to Montreal.

Meanwhile, I have begun to add some photos to my Flickr account, here .

Better is the end of a thing than its beginning; the patient in spirit are better than the proud in spirit.

Ecclesiastes 7:8

A pause in proceedings

The blog will fall silent for almost three weeks now. I'm publishing this about ten hours before we set off to the United States for Tim and Susan's marriage celebration and our holiday in New England and Canada.

For the record, our itinerary looks like this:

9 August - Fly to Boston, and travel onwards to Woodstock, Vermont
11 August - Tim & Susan's marriage celebration in St James Church, Woodstock, followed by a reception at the Woodstock Inn
13-14 August - In Bethlehem, New Hampshire, visiting the White Mountains
15-18 August - with friends, Tad Meyer and Ann Stevenson, in North Berwick, Maine
18-25 August - Cruising from Boston to Montreal
26 August - Fly back to Boston
27 August - Return home
28 August - Return to the UK

I shall become Archdeacon of Bolton again at the beginning of September, but will try to update the blog with the story of our transatlantic trip before I do.

Farewell for now!

And on the next day....

Our second instalment of Olympic excitement was entirely different, but no less enjoyable. We had tickets for Women's Volleyball at Earl's Court on Sunday afternoon. 

Now I probably knew even less about volleyball than about hockey, but had watched matches on TV earlier in the Games to prepare. One of those was an epic late-night victory for Team GB's women over Algeria, ranked much higher in the world. No one expected GB to win any matches in these Games, so that was a triumph in itself for an determined bunch of girls whose funding was withdrawn a couple of years ago and had to virtually pay their own way to the Olympics. They deserve a share of the admiration that has gone to more successful British Olympians.

We were going to watch Team GB, ranked 69 in the world, play their last match, against Japan, ranked 5. In the unlikely event of a Team GB victory they would progress through to the next round, to the amazement of the volleyball world. 

Come on, GB!

To be fair they never stood much of a chance against the Japanese, but that didn't stop us cheering every point and there were periods when they matched their more experienced opponents point for point. A nasty injury to one of the GB players marred the occasion, and the expected result duly came. But we had our moments of national pride, and admired the extraordinary athleticism of these women who, again and again, saved points by playing the ball with lightning reactions, inches from the ground.

A second match, between Italy and Russia was closely fought to a very high standard and was finally won by Russia in the deciding 5th set. Two 6' 8" tall Russian girls proved too much for the otherwise skilful Italians.

How on earth did she reach that?

The Italians block at the net

I was so glad to have made the trip to London for the Olympics. It was a 'once in a lifetime' opportunity that fell at just the right time for me. Even our little taste will stay with me for ever. 

I truly and sincerely thank God for sport, which has brought me so much delight and excitement throughout my life, even though I have never played with skill or distinction on any field or court. These Olympic Games in London are about as good as it gets, and have lifted my spirit to great heights. Another ingredient in an extraordinary sabbatical mix.

My Games weren't quite over. After my return from London I also went, on Tuesday, to the semi-final of the football tournament at Old Trafford, accompanied by my colleague, Bishop Chris Edmondson, and 70,000 others. We saw an impressive Brazil team defeat GB's conquerors, South Korea 3-0 to book a place in the final. There was a carnival atmosphere, with samba drums in the stands beating the rhythm and the Brazilian players responding on the field. 

What a fantastic 7 days! 5 international matches in four different sports! Have I gone to heaven?

O give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; for his steadfast love endures for ever.

Psalm 107:1

Super Saturday

I was nearly there. About four times the length of a javelin throw and about 4 hours away from the historic, golden moment when Yorkshire's Jessica Ennis crossed the line at the end of the 800 metres to confirm the heptathlon victory that started the gold rush for Team GB's athletes on Super Saturday. I might need to embellish the story for future generations, but just to be on Olympic Park on that historic day was a worthwhile consolation for not being in the stadium itself. A bronze, rather than a gold.

The facts may not excite blog-readers that much. Our family bid for tickets last year yielded no more than hockey and volleyball, plus a couple of football matches at Old Trafford. Kathryn opted out once it was clear that this was the weekend before our flight to the USA. Jessica was the inspiration behind the application and was still up for it, even though she was flying to the States even sooner, on the following Monday. So Kathryn's tickets were taken up by a friend from Beverley days, Peter Kelham, whose parents were 'Minster marvels', and who came through our youth groups while we were there. Now he lives in London and works for Southwark Diocese Board of Education.

I had travelled down to Dorking on Friday and stayed with Jessica. We were among the early arrivals on the Park, with dark clouds threatening above. I had already sensed the upbeat mood in London, travelling through the day before, but the approach to Olympic Park was something else. Cheerful, enthusiastic 'Gamesmakers' lined the route to welcome everyone and build the anticipation. Olympic Park is a theme park dedicated to the ultimate in human sporting endeavour. When our children were much younger - during my last sabbatical in fact - we took them to Disney World in Florida and watched their wide-eyed amazement at everything they saw and did. Olympic Park reminded me of Disney World, but this time I was the child. Instead of Mickey Mouse, we spotted Rebecca Adlington with Chris Evans on the BBC balcony.

I can't claim to be a great fan of hockey but the two women's matches we saw were thoroughly enjoyable. Australia beat South Africa and world champions, Holland, triumphed over South Korea. The Dutch were silky smooth in their movement of the ball and looked a good bet for a gold medal [they have now reached the final]. There was a high level of skill on view, even to the novice eye.

After an enjoyable morning of hockey, we capitalised on the freedom of ticket-holders to explore the park and headed to 'Park Live' with thousands of others to eat our picnic and watch other events unfold on the big screen - Usain Bolt in the 100m heats and Jessica Ennis throwing the javelin.

Jessica prepares to throw

Park Live acclaims her

The atmosphere was unforgettable. The golds had already started to arrive in the rowing and support for Ennis was at fever pitch. Peter was astonished to find that his sister, a great friend of Jessica,  was among the 220,000 on the park, and we met up with her. Eventually we slowly made our way off Olympic Park drinking in the atmosphere and dodging the showers. There was so much to see and so many excited and happy people, with the Gamesmakers and the armed services personnel making a wonderful contribution.

It was a day I shall never forget. The Olympic Games are proving a fantastic success and I was able to experience something of that at first hand. If only the church could run as smoothly and fill people with as much joy and hope!

More seriously, I am beginning to get the feeling that Britain is not going to be the same again after these games, that they will prove to be a national watershed, in a positive way, rather like the death of Princess Diana did in unhappier times. Commentators have remarked that we have become so much more at ease with our multicultural national identity, as supremely illustrated by our three contrasting athletics gold-medallists on Super Saturday. And we may just be able to become a more cheerful and optimistic nation. Let's see. It's vital that the Church doesn't get left behind as Britain rides the crest of this wave.

Yes, that is a Team GB T-Shirt!

Praise the Lord! Sing to the Lord a new song, his praise in the assembly of the faithful.

Psalm 150:1

Headingley Sunrise

A yellow ball was spotted in the sky over Headingley Cricket Ground on Thursday 2 August. This was not the latest idea of the England and Wales Cricket Board to brighten up Test Matches, but a natural phenomenon known as the 'sun', which is not now commonly seen over cricket grounds. There were, of course, the familiar black clouds as well, but they produced only one heavy shower and allowed all but three overs of play on the first day of the eagerly awaited second contest between England and South Africa.

Whilst Charles Simeon remains my companion, the sabbatical focus for August is fun and family, with sport featuring strongly. Eldest son Andrew joined me on Wednesday 1 August for our first trip to Old Trafford Football Ground for many years to see a match in the Olympic Games tournament, between Spain and Morocco. Spain had already been eliminated, so the match didn't have the edge it might have done, and it finished as a 0-0 draw, but was more entertaining than it sounds and the Olympic experience was unique. It was good to go to a football match with a very different atmosphere from a cold Saturday afternoon in January at Elland Road, Leeds.

The next morning, though, we were off to Headingley. I have been attending Test Matches there for over 50 years. My first memory is of the summer of 1959, one of the hottest in living memory, and being taken by my aunt, who nurtured my love of cricket as a small boy, to see an England side with Cowdrey, Barrington and Trueman playing against India. The image that has stayed with me is of a member of the crowd being stretchered out suffering from sunstroke. I don't think I've ever seen that since.

Needless to say, I have a deep affection for Headingley, home of Yorkshire cricket, even though it is far from the most elegant Test Match ground in the country. It has a reputation for a pitch and atmospheric conditions that produce more than their share of dramatic cricket. Most famous is the defining moment of 'Botham's Ashes' in 1981, when England snatched victory out of almost certain defeat by Australia, thanks to the exploits of the great cricketing legend. I am ashamed of my own part on that historic day. I was a curate in Worksop and had a day off on the day when it all unfolded, certain that England would slide to defeat early in the day, I decided to stay at home and do the gardening. It's up there among the 5 worst decisions of my life, but it has provided a helpful sermon illustration on the story of Thomas, the apostle who wasn't there when it mattered.

Anyway, there is a new generation of England legends now, but they had been humiliated by a strong South Africa in the first Test in the series. Andrew and I gasped out loud when we heard England captain Andrew Strauss announce that England would bowl first when he won the toss, and didn't think much of the omission of star spin bowler, Graham Swann. Somehow, England don't seem to get Headingley. There is a long history of questionable decisions there by England selectors and captains based on misunderstanding and mistrust of the playing conditions. If they'd listened to my experience going back to 1959, they might not have got it wrong again.

Anyway, it was a good day's cricket, with only one rainstorm (that's good in this summer), and great to spend it with Andrew who shares my love of the game. In fact, he stayed with the match for two more days while I treacherously deserted it for lesser sports further south. Sadly, the rain came and had the final say, and the match was drawn.

I shall need to work some time off in May next year if I'm to see much of the next Headingley Test. Sadly, there is no Ashes match there in 2013. We have to make do with New Zealand.

He makes me lie down in green pastures..... he restores my soul.

Psalm 23:2,3

Oh, Danny Boyle

27July 2012 was an historic day, and no self-respecting contemporaneous blog should allow it to pass unmentioned.

I'd like to think that I will always remember where I was when the London Olympics were declared open, but in case memory evaporates in old age, I will record it here now: Kathryn and I were in our house in Ripon, and were joined part way through the Opening Ceremony by Andrew and Jenny, who had come to North Yorkshire for a wedding the next day.

I was thrilled and delighted by the Opening Ceremony. It takes a lot to stir national pride in my soul, but Danny Boyle's masterpiece did so. Each new element produced surprise and wonder as we watched in amazement. I couldn't even look away when the athletes from all the different countries were parading in. It was brilliant, and I am chuffed to bits that we took the plunge and applied for tickets to some of the Olympic events all those months ago. I'm as excited as any sport-mad teenager about the Games, and will be heading to Old Trafford for a couple of football matches and to London with Jessica on the weekend of 4/5 August for sessions of hockey and volleyball.

It was a very good idea to plan a sabbatical during the Olympics. The ideal way to recharge and re-energise!

Someone suggested to me later that Britain's heritage of faith was missing from the occasion - there was no church on the village green, for example. But 'Abide with Me' was sung, after all. And Rowan Williams got a good seat in view of the TV cameras, even if he didn't have quite the same impact as the other Rowan.....

And in the case of an athlete, no one is crowned without competing according to the rules.

2 Timothy 2:5

Archdeacon in the Dales

After Liverpool, back to Ripon and my final meeting with a colleague archdeacon. Janet Henderson, Archdeacon of Richmond (Ripon and Leeds Diocese), lives just outside Ripon in the village of Hutton Conyers. She's not, of course, an urban archdeacon, but the diocese includes the city of Leeds and she has been longer in post than her colleague in Leeds, whose diary unfortunately didn't fit with mine. 

Janet Henderson

I look up to Janet for two reasons. First, because she was one of the archdeacons involved  in the training event for new archdeacons that I attended shortly before coming into post four years ago, and secondly because she writes a proper blog - Archdeacon in the Dales. It is a good read, and Janet tells me that it helps her foster a sense of belonging among the parishes and people of her rural archdeaconry.

She not only gave me a generous allowance of her time, but  with her husband, Dave, entertained me to supper at their home. She had some interesting stories to share of mission initiatives in her diocese. For example, three posts have been created in the city of Leeds, including a lay post as 'Pioneer Minister to the Night Time Economy', and there is a network church, Kairos, in Harrogate, based on the 'missional communities' principle.

I cannot express too strongly how grateful I am to all the archdeacons and others, from 7 dioceses, who have given me their time this month. It has been an extremely encouraging and worthwhile exercise. I need to spend a little longer reflecting on our conversations and drawing together the threads, but it has been heartening to see creative mission touching the lives of people who would be extremely unlikely to have contact with the church in any other way. And it's not just a case of reaching individuals. The Church is giving a message to the world that we are not necessarily locked into ways of being church that many have come to see as irrelevant. A common thread, though, is that most of the projects and initiatives I have heard about are being questioned by others, either locally or in a diocese, who are less than convinced that they represent the best use of resources. This does place a responsibility on dioceses to monitor and evaluate projects carefully, but I am saddened if any of this questioning arises from fear or insecurity about inherited forms of church that remain rich in mission opportunities. I am certain that both approaches have a place and should be developed and supported appropriately. It has been helpful to see how dioceses are doing this.

So, with the tour of dioceses complete, I pick up the pace of reading once again, reflecting that Charles Simeon, in his day, was not afraid to adopt different approaches, and was criticised for it. He set up, for example, 'societies' in his parish, of a similar size to 'missional communities' today. Their purpose, in a Christendom context, was somewhat different, and he had difficulties with independently-minded leaders, but he was determined to make sure they flourished within the structure of the established church despite those who who saw them as foreign to it.

Anyway, it was back from Ripon via Headingley, where Yorkshire succeeded in reaching 20/20 Finals Day for the first time. It was a decent game of 20/20 cricket against Worcestershire, so it was a small consolation for the loss of so much cricket over the last couple of months. Shame about all the noise.

And back in Bury we welcomed back Jessica, accompanied by boyfriend Nick and his mother who were visiting Manchester for the Olympic football matches at Old Trafford, and had fun taking them round the area earlier in the day.

Proclaim the message; be persistent whether the time is favourable or unfavourable.

2 Timothy 4:2

P.S. For those of you 'collecting' the Bible verses at the end of each post, a couple of missing ones from earlier in the month have been restored!

Back to School

Norris Green is an area of Liverpool made up of a large housing estate and known, sadly, for its social problems and gang culture. Not quite the place you would have expected Kathryn and me to go to celebrate our 34th wedding anniversary, but we had gone to visit our friends Helen Edwards and her husband, Andrew.

Helen, a Liverpudlian, is Vicar of Christ Church, Norris Green, and was my curate in Beverley from 2001 to 2005. The two places could hardly be more different but Helen is richly gifted and has won immense respect in her diocese and beyond for the work she has done at Christ Church. The parish church was closed soon after she arrived, and subsequently demolished, and the congregation now meets in the local community primary school. 


'Church in School' is a model that interests us very much in neighbouring Manchester Diocese, where we have an excess of church buildings that often prove impossible to maintain, and more church schools than any other diocese. A number of congregations have transferred to a local school when their building had to be closed and we are eager to make the most of the mission opportunities this brings. Our visit to Christ Church was an opportunity to see a growing school congregation at first hand and learn more about the ministry of the church, which is effectively engaged with the local community.

We enjoyed a relaxed service of Holy Communion, by no means informal, but relevant to the people of Norris Green and their lives. Candidates who had been confirmed the previous week were welcomed, interviewed, and presented with a Bible at the front, and  the congregation prayed hard for their summer play scheme which was to start the following day. As soon as the service was over everyone got to work making preparations for the influx of children from the estate.


Over coffee we met some of the members of the congregation. The 'old hands' spoke freely of how they had overcome the sorrow and fears of losing their church building, and were altogether convinced that worship in the church had enabled them to grow. Newcomers spoke of how they had found their way much more easily into the school than they could ever have done into a traditional church. One woman had joined the church via a regular 'knit and natter' group that Helen had established. She made a telling comment that since she had belonged to Christ Church she felt more secure in the neighbourhood because she realised that there were good people in the neighbourhood after all. It was a happy church family, where people obviously appreciated and cared about one another. It was a joy to find it in Norris Green, and a reminder of how important it is to look behind the reputations that communities are given by the media and others.

We spent the afternoon with Helen and Andrew (who is Vicar of a nearby parish himself), with an excellent lunch in a restaurant in the city and then a walk along the redeveloped waterfront. The sun was shining, the 'three graces' basking in its warmth. The crowds of locals and visitors alike were enjoying themselves. Bradley Wiggins had won 'Le Tour'. After the dismal end to the week in Chesterfield it was a restorative day.


For it is the God who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness’, who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.

2  Corinthians 4:6

Spire-alling downwards

The most famous thing about Chesterfield is its iconic crooked spire. It dominates the town and seems to appear in the name of every other business based there. The local football team are nicknamed the 'Spireites'. 


It's actually the spire of the Parish Church of St Mary and All Saints. From what I can discover, the twist is a deliberate design feature but the lean is not. It certainly is a sight.


But it's not all that Chesterfield boasts. It has a large outdoor market, the railway engineer, George Stephenson, ended his days there and is commemorated in a statue outside the station, and it has produced some famous goalkeepers. World Cup winner Gordon Banks began his career with the Spireites and Arsenal's Bob Wilson and John Lukic (who also won the old first division with Leeds) both came from the town. And it has a delightful cricket ground, Queen's Park, inside a public park close to the town centre, which I had not visited since the early 1980s when I was a curate in nearby Worksop and Geoff Boycott batted for Yorkshire against the home side, Derbyshire.

Blog readers may recall that I had planned 11 days of cricket-watching during my sabbatical, two four-day county matches, two one-day internationals and the first day of the Headingley test match against South Africa. The first four-day match came to a watery end at Colwyn Bay, and one of the ODIs had also fallen foul to the abysmal summer weather.


I arrived, exhausted after my day in London, at ten o'clock on the evening of Tuesday 17 July  and collapsed into my bed in the chain hotel that had offered accommodation for four nights at a knock-down price. The next morning dawned cloudy but bright and I was in good spirits as I arrived at the ground before the start of play. In fact, I was almost elated. This was how I'd planned it. A picturesque county out-ground, a top-of-the table battle (OK, Division 2), and the promise of some sunshine. It doesn't get much better.

I settled down on the boundary in the midst of a group of cheerful but phlegmatic Derbyshire supporters, starved of cricketing success and programmed to expect failure. Their glass of Old Speckled Hen (the team's shirt sponsors) was half-empty all day, even when Yorkshire wickets fell. County cricket watchers are a slightly eccentric, but always entertaining, bunch. The banter usually provides a day's entertainment in itself. A woman behind me put a stuffed dinosaur called 'Dino' on the next seat to encourage Derbyshire's opening bowler, Tony Palladino, and regularly shouted, 'Come on, Dino'. What's good about cricket on grounds like this is that he could hear, and waved to her at the end of his run-up. A visiting Yorkshire supporter mistook my identity and had to be persuaded that he hadn't met me at a cricket dinner at Headingley. 


It was a terrific day's cricket. 17 wickets fell in the day and Yorkshire ended the day marginally on top, partly due to an erratic, but somehow successful, spell of bowling from former England player, Steve Harmison, on loan from Durham to cover an injury crisis. The one fly in the ointment was a thundery downpour which, fortunately, fell during the lunch interval and caused minimal loss of play. I ended the day with an excellent curry in the town, and all was well.


The next morning it was not well. Nor the morning after that. Nor the morning after that. 


I saw no more cricket in Chesterfield. The 'summer' took over once again. Heavy overnight rain after day 1 continued into day 2, overnight again, and into day 3. The outfield, with limited drainage facilities, just couldn't cope. All I did see was the inside of my hotel room, and Chesterfield's shops and coffee shops. At least I could get on with some reading. And I visited the church, which has some very good stained glass and some interesting side chapels. Frankly, the less said about those three days the better. In fact, with abandonment all but certain I left for home after breakfast on the final day and cut my losses. It was the right decision.


So the 'score' so far, out of ten planned days of cricket: 
7 completely washed out
1 reduced to 2 hours
2 full days' play
1 day still to come. 
I am wondering how to make the case for a further sabbatical next summer to make up for this.


Desperate for cricket I booked a ticket for the forthcoming 20/20 Quarter-Final at Headingley. This is like eating at McDonalds when all the best restaurants in town are closed.


And after seven days the waters of the flood came on the earth

Genesis 7:10

Capital City - Part Two

Tuesday 17 July was the most exhausting but perhaps the most rewarding day of the sabbatical so far. I was up before 6 a.m. to bid farewell to Jessica and leave Dorking on an early train for the city. I deposited a suitcase in left luggage and had breakfast at St Pancras Station and then headed out to north London for a meeting with the Archdeacon of Hampstead, the Ven Luke Miller, in Wood Green.

Luke Miller

We had never met before, but soon struck up a lively and very enjoyable conversation. Luke is from the Anglo-Catholic wing of the Church and offered me a different perspective to other Archdeacons I had met on my travels. It was extremely helpful, and it was good to hear of significant growth in parishes of that tradition in London, both through conventional and innovative forms of ministry and mission. There were some very encouraging stories of partnerships forged with local authorities that are inviting and trusting the Church to make use of facilities and run community programmes that are no longer affordable from the public purse. He had some penetrating insights into the way his Diocese facilitates mission, and there were some interesting comparisons to be made between our two cities of London and Manchester. Once again, I was very grateful to a busy Archdeacon for his precious time.

Rachel Treweek

I left Wood Green to head back to the city and a rendezvous on the steps of St Paul's Cathedral with the Archdeacon of Hackney, Rachel Treweek. Rachel is a friend of my former curate from South Cave days, Hilary Edgerton, and we got to know each other about three years ago when we both participated in a week-long training course on 'Conflict Transformation'  run by Bridgebuilders for senior church leaders. Rachel and I were chosen near the end of the course to lead the whole group of denominational leaders in a major conflict exercise, which was about as stressful an experience as I can recall in any training event, but established something of a bond between us, I think, through shared suffering.


We talked over lunch in a nearby restaurant and Rachel was able to fill out my understanding of the approach to mission in London Diocese in a way that was extremely useful. She knows London well, having served there throughout her parish ministry and also as Archdeacon of Northolt before moving to Hackney Archdeaconry. As in other conversations over the last few weeks the time flew by, and the Church of England was put to rights. It was beginning to come home to me just how much that is good in the Church just 'happens', and Diocesan strategy has to try to catch up. I guess that is a mark of the Holy Spirit at work.

By now I was glad of a rest afforded by a change in my schedule that left a gap until 5 o'clock. I had been carrying my camera around London with me and was able to walk on the Millennium Bridge, sit by the Thames, and take a few photographs around the river and St Paul's. It was a chance to observe the city preparing for the Olympic Games. Looking downstream the Olympic Rings are suspended from Tower Bridge, which is now dwarfed by the Shard, the city's latest skyscraper. Olympic bunting is festooned everywhere and tourists carried Olympic souvenirs. In a couple of weeks' time I shall be back in London to attend two games events, and the anticipation and excitement began to build.

My final appointment was in Shadwell, an inner-city area on the north bank of the Thames,  formerly dockland,  and now inhabited by a multi-cultural community with significant degrees of deprivation. In 2005 the Bishop of London invited Ric Thorpe and a team from Holy Trinity, Brompton, in West London, to plant a new congregation in St Paul's Church to bring new life and a fresh mission. Rachel had already spoken highly of the way in which the team had immersed themselves in the local community, some moving house to do so, and developed ministries of service to the local people. As a result, St Paul's Shadwell  has grown and, more recently sent its own teams out to plant congregations in two other churches that might otherwise have closed, St Peter's, Bethnal Green, and All Hallows, Bow. There are now quite a number of church plants across London (and elsewhere) that go back to Holy Trinity, Brompton, and it seems as though the Diocese now explores the possibility of a plant as a matter of course before closing a building.

Ric & Louie Thorpe

Ric told me the story of church-planting from HTB as well as showing me round the church and its facilities and giving me a glimpse of the area. This has not been an easy exercise, but God has given growth through faith and a great deal of hard work. For the Diocese and for other local churches, the church-planting process brings challenges, but there is no doubt that the principle and the practice of church-planting has had a major impact on the growth of the Church in London Diocese, which is now firmly part of the Diocesan Strategy, London Challenge 2012, and a Diocesan church-planting policy exists.

After an extremely worthwhile visit to Shadwell it was back to St Pancras to reclaim my suitcase, grab a bite to eat, and jump onto the 19.55 to Chesterfield - tired but excited by my visit to the capital and the people I had met - to begin what was meant to be a 'chill-out' period of the sabbatical. 

The next blog entry will tell how things didn't quite work out as planned....

And day by day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved.

Acts 2:47

Capital City - Part One

I love London. Even as a northerner, I am completely unashamed to say so. For me it's a thrill to stand on Westminster Bridge, to look at Big Ben, the Houses of Parliament and the cityscape up and down the river Thames, and to know that I'm standing at the heart, well, not of the Empire any more, but of a nation with a rich and compelling history of which, by 'accident of birth', I am a part. Any excuse to visit London I will make.


Kathryn and I had four happy years in London in the 1980s when I was Curate-in-Charge of St Andrew's, Broadfields in Edgware, right on the edge of what was then Greater London. Tim was born during those years. But we had then neither the time nor the money to enjoy the cultural and sporting riches that London offers, and only once did I dare to drive a car closer to the centre of the city than Regent's Park. And that was with a London cabbie in the passenger seat.


My visit to London last week, though, was not driven so much by my love affair with the capital, but by a genuine interest in a Diocese which, according to official statistics, is growing in numbers. God is blessing something that they are doing down there. Perhaps it is the creative and innovative mission that I am 'researching' during this sabbatical. I had arranged meetings with two Archdeacon colleagues: Luke Miller, Archdeacon of Hampstead, and Rachel Treweek, Archdeacon of Hackney. I had also been put in touch with two people involved in creative mission, Annie Kirke, an Ordained Pioneer Minister who holds a full-time post in the Diocese developing Missional Communities, and Ric Thorpe, who led a  church plant from Holy Trinity, Brompton to St Paul's, Shadwell - a plant which has now given birth to further plants of its own.


Jessica's home in Surrey is a convenient base for visiting London these days, and I made my way there on Sunday 15 July. She had gone to the Paul Simon concert in Hyde Park (which made me very envious) and so I let myself into the flat, went for a meal in a favourite restaurant in the town, watched 'Wallander' (I've still to blog about my passion for Scandinavian crime thrillers) and was asleep well before Jessica arrived home.

Annie Kirke

First up next morning was my meeting with Annie Kirke, in a coffee shop just off Carnaby Street [with a plug here for the Speakeasy Espresso and Brew Bar, owned and run by friends of Annie]. This video and Annie's blog tell the story of the missional communities in London that she is involved with and demonstrates her passion to find ways in which the Church can engage with people, especially young people, who have had little or no contact with it, and are never likely to set foot near a conventional church.

I had a terrific couple of hours with Annie. Her enthusiasm is infectious and her commitment is inspirational. I was left with no illusions about the level of commitment and perseverance that is needed if the Church is going to work in this way, and there will be scepticism from those who feel that the priority for resources has to be with reinforcing more conventional models of Church. But I came away convinced that missional communities on this model - if necessary at some distance from traditional church, and especially in cities - have a part to play as we face up to the challenges of the present and future.




The meeting with Annie was my only Monday appointment, so I took time out in the afternoon to visit the Royal Academy, and take a look at their Summer Exhibition of works by contemporary artists and their special exhibition of 19th century French art, majoring on Impressionists, from the Clark Institute in Williamstown, Massachusetts. I loved these exhibitions, especially the Impressionists. Amongst the exhibits was this painting by Corot of the Castel Sant'Angelo in Rome, which Kathryn and I had visited just a month ago.

Go therefore into the main streets and invite everyone you find to the wedding banquet

Matthew 22:10

Tour of Britain

The blog has been silent for a some time now because I have been touring England. Since the last post I have met with six more Archdeacons and some others who are involved in innovative mission projects.


After Bradford came a day's break in Ripon and then a trip to Sheffield, where I met with the Archdeacon of Sheffield and Rotherham, Martyn Snow. Then it was on to the Sheffield Diocesan House in Rotherham to meet with their Director of Mission and Pioneer Ministry, Canon Mark Wigglesworth. A distinctive feature of mission in that diocese is the contribution of some very large churches: St Thomas, Crookes, St Thomas, Philadelphia, and Christ Church, Fulwood among others. But they don't tell anything like the whole story. I met a few other Sheffield clergy and laity with Mark and heard from Abi Thompson, a vicar in Rotherham, about how she was growing her church in a tough area of the town through singing - evangelism on a 'Gareth Malone' model - by forming youth and community choirs. There are a couple of links about that here and here. Driving home to Bury across the Woodhead Pass I was able to reflect on another helpful set of conversations. 


Then I was up early again next morning for a visit to Liverpool, by train this time, and a meeting with Archdeacon Ricky Panter at St James' House in the shadow of Liverpool's Anglican Cathedral. It was a sunny day for once and a graduation ceremony was taking place in the cathedral, adding to the atmosphere in what is always a colourful city. I love visiting Liverpool. Just 40 miles or so from Manchester, it feels like another country altogether. Certainly the language is different. There is a lot to learn from the Diocese, as well, which has been shown by recent statistics to be growing. It joins London as the only dioceses where that is demonstrably the case. I was grateful to Ricky for a couple of hours of his valuable time, reflecting on this and other topics, and for a generous lunch. 


On Friday I was back in the car, with Kathryn this time, for a rather different kind of visit. We were returning to Beverley, for a rare visit in these last three and a half years since we left the Minster. The purpose was a meeting of the 'Archdeacons' Cell' that I belong to, with the Archdeacons of Carlisle (Kevin Roberts), the East Riding (David Butterfield), and Walsall (Chris Sims). We've been meeting for about three years now and it's a valuable group for mutual support and fellowship. Our wives join us as well, share part of our time together and then organise their own excursion in the afternoon, usually to the local shops! We've got to know each other well, and David and Irene are special friends because he was my Archdeacon for the last year and a half or so of our time in East Yorkshire. We stayed with them on Friday night, after a difficult journey because the M62 was blocked. We did manage a couple of calls to old friends from the parish, but the main purpose of the visit was our cell meeting. Chris and Catherine Sims were unable to join us this time, but the rest of us enjoyed one another's company as ever, and I was able to ask a few pertinent questions on my sabbatical theme to two more Archdeacons from different contexts. 


It was a busy, but very valuable week, and there would be no chance for rest and reflection because the next day, Sunday, I would be heading for the capital, and two days of meetings in the Church of England's largest diocese (by population and by number of churches) - London. 


Be hospitable to one another without complaining 

1 Peter 4:9

Simeon's blog

I've been pressing on with Simeon's memoirs and correspondence. In fact, the mental stimulus of the week in Nottingham has accelerated my progress through the 862 pages. Today I reached the point in 1807 when Simeon had an enforced sabbatical. He experienced a chronic loss of voice, no doubt through over-exertion in preaching, and withdrew almost entirely from public ministry for about two years. I was delighted to discover that he kept a blog - well, a diary - during this time. He wrote,

'That I may second the intentions of his providence, I purpose, during this interval of relaxation, to keep

A DIARY

that I may the more carefully observe what benefit accrues to me from this affliction. And I am not without hope, that this purpose of mine is, as proceeding from my God, a token for good; and that it will be attended with many salutary efforts to my soul. May God enable me to state my feelings with sincerity, and keep me from yielding to vanity and hypocrisy, which find much scope for exercise in records like these.'

I love the last sentence and will do my best to note it!

Anyway, I returned from Nottingham to Ripon, where Kathryn was already in residence for the weekend. The next phase of the sabbatical is going to be rather busy, perhaps too busy. But it began, praise be, with cricket.

I'd bought a ticket for the One-Day International between England and Australia at Durham. The weather forecast looked bleak all week and I was fully expecting yet another washout, even as I drove northwards on Saturday morning, listening to the reports of frustrated spectators at Silverstone for the Grand Prix being turned away from flooded car parks. But the Durham groundstaff did an outstanding job, somehow the rain held off, and we not only started on time, but had a full day.

That was the good news, but these days England can beat Australia so easily that it was a pretty one-sided match and not particularly exciting. But it was cricket, and it was an England victory over the Aussies. Thanksgiving all round.

On Sunday morning I kept up the pattern of worshipping in a different church every Sunday by visiting Ripon Cathedral. As I walked in I recognised the back view of two good friends, Terry and Liz Munro. Terry and Liz retired to Beverley some years ago and have served Beverley Minster faithfully and loyally ever since. Terry was a tremendous support to me at the Minster and I hold them in the greatest respect and affection. It was a delightful surprise to see them again. Terry was ordained 50 years (and three weeks) ago in Ripon and had taken the opportunity to make a return visit.

And there was another Beverley reunion in the afternoon. We had arranged a visit from Richard and Rachael Carew and their three young children. Richard was curate at Beverley from 2005 until I left, and beyond, and was another rock. We kept half an eye on Andy Murray's gallant effort against the incomparable Federer while the children played in the garden and around the house. A brief excursion to a local playground ended in tears. I had forgotten how often small children fall over. But Richard and Rachael will be returning to the cottage next week, on their own, to celebrate their wedding anniversary.

Yesterday I began a programme of visiting Archdeacon colleagues in various dioceses over the next two or three weeks. The aim of this is to learn more about how other dioceses facilitate, support and resource innovative forms of mission.

I started in Bradford Diocese, with Kathryn and I travelling across in convoy and calling in at Salts Mill for a look at the David Hockney works and lunch. As Kathryn headed home to Bury, I met with the Archdeacon of Bradford, David Lee, and Andy Milne, leader of 'Sorted', a Fresh Expression and a Church Army Centre of Mission in the city. 

I won't be blogging about all the conversations I have, and what I learn, over the next few weeks, but suffice to say that this was an excellent start, and it was tremendous to learn about the work being done with unchurched young people through 'Sorted'. Here is a video that tells some of the story.

I was grateful to David for a passing comment about sabbaticals. 'A sabbatical is about the imagination', he said. That's right, I'm sure. The last few weeks have been an opportunity for my imagination to be restored and renewed. That's a rich blessing, especially for when the time comes to re-enter Manchester Diocese.

Meanwhile, tomorrow, I'm off to Sheffield, and to Liverpool on Thursday. The pace is hotting up.

I become all things to all people, that I might by all means save some.

1 Corinthians 9:22

A Rumour of Angels

My return to academia continued with a day led by the former Principal of St John's, Canon Dr Christina Baxter. Christina arrived on the staff of St John's in 1979 when I was a student, and became Principal in 1997. She has been one of the most senior and influential lay people in the Church of England, and served as the Chair of the House of Laity of the General Synod for fifteen years until 2010. She was awarded the CBE in 2005. She began a well-deserved, but very active, retirement in March this year. Our paths have crossed many times during my ministry, especially when I was a member of General Synod, and it has been a privilege to know her and learn from her. 


So I was looking forward to her sessions on the ministry of women, and I was not disappointed. She led us with characteristic clarity and depth through the Biblical and theological issues, and discussed with us the current debate in the Church of England about the consecration of women bishops. I have never had reservations about any aspect of the ordination of women, and remember seconding a motion (proposed by an American woman priest) in a college debate on the subject when I was at St John's. But to be taken through the issues from first principles once again was extremely valuable at this critical point in the life of the Church. Many of the discussions have moved on considerably since I last gave them serious attention, especially the interpretation of the Biblical texts and the study of early Christian church life and theology. Not everyone in the group had the same views but my convictions were further strengthened. 


A couple of days later it was announced that a contemporary of mine at university and at St John's, Vivienne Faull, the Dean of Leicester, had been appointed Dean of York. I couldn't have been more delighted. It has been a privilege to know, and to work with, so many outstanding women clergy during the course of my ministry, and I look forward to the consecration of the first woman bishop - I hope, before I retire!


Christina's successor as Principal of St John's is the Revd Dr David Hilborn. I'd not met him before, so it was good to do so and to benefit from his expertise in another completely different area of theology: the evolution of the Charismatic Movement and the styles of worship associated with it. This was a fascinating, and somewhat unnerving experience. I was being taught about history I had, to all intents and purposes, been part of. I was greatly influenced by the Charismatic Movement as a student at St Aldate's, Oxford, as an ordinand at Nottingham and in my subsequent ministry. I have personal recollections of nearly all the key figures in this country who played a part in leading the movement to a place of acceptance and even respect in the mainstream churches of this country. I attended 'Spring Harvest' and John Wimber conferences in the 1980s, engaged in the debates about the 'Toronto Blessing' in the 1990s and have been thankful to God from the beginning until now that the Charismatic Movement has been part of my spiritual lifeblood. But what was fresh and new when I was at St John's was now being taught in the self-same place - as Church History! Shortly after leaving St John's I wrote the very first course module about the Holy Spirit for their Extension Studies Department. Much of that was concerned with theological controversies (especially about 'baptism in the Holy Spirit') that were overtaken within a very short time as the Charismatic Movement matured and evolved, and found its, place in the Church of England and other denominations. At one level it made me feel old, but at another I am thankful to God that my personal story has been so closely interwoven with what he has been doing in his Church for the last few decades.


If I had told you that I was going to be taught about the 'Spirituality of Angels' by Dr Andrew Angel, you would probably have thought I was making it up. But I kid you not. Andy Angel is Director of Extension Studies and Lecturer in New Testament at the College. He has recently written a book called, 'Angels: Ancient Whispers of Another World'. 


I have to admit that this was the subject that 'grabbed' me least of the five when I had looked at the programme. It felt, well, rather esoteric, and hardly relevant to the life and ministry of an archdeacon!


But the beauty of studying theology, and of being taught it well, is that it is full of surprises. I really enjoyed the day, not only because of Andy's excellent and enthusiastic teaching, but because the topic proved to be really helpful. Study of ancient Jewish and Christian texts on spiritual beings helps us to understand the Bible much better and all kinds of unexpected new insights emerged for me. There was a very valuable consideration of the 'principalities and powers' that are so often mentioned in the New Testament, and, of course, it is intriguing to assess the popular interest in angels in contemporary songs, books, TV and films (try 'Googling'!), and how the Church responds to contemporary and 'new age' spiritualities. In fact, attracted by the generous e-book price, this was the first book I purchased to read after the course.




So, "Thank-You, St John's" for a terrific week that re-kindled in me the desire to read and learn and, through that, to grow closer to God, that I had felt so strongly when I studied there all those years ago - exactly what a sabbatical is meant to do! There was also a helpful pattern of worship to support all the learning that went on. I would thoroughly recommend the 'Top Up Your Theology' Week in future years to clergy and laity with some knowledge of theology who would like to explore some new directions. I had been quite unsure of the decision to book in to the course and somewhat nervous about how I would feel, but I need not have worried. I enjoyed getting to know other course members, and I'm not going to have enough time in the sabbatical to read all the books I want to read now!


But it wasn't all brain exertion. Nottingham not only boasts an excellent theological college, but also one of my favourite cricket grounds, Trent Bridge. It just so happened that Yorkshire were playing Nottinghamshire there in the 20/20 competition on the Thursday evening of the course. I was able to slip out, in a very narrow window of dry weather, and watch the match. 20/20 cricket doesn't push too many of my buttons, but any cricket this summer is better than none, and a Yorkshire win, which they achieved quite comfortably, certainly does push them!


‘Very truly, I tell you,^* you will see heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man.’

John 1:51