The Rector Writes – November 2017

At the start of September, two months into my sabbatical, I found myself in Alnwick, Northumberland. If you’ve never been to that part of England, I encourage you to go. It is almost eartbreakingly beautiful, a region of ruins and castles, of startling coastline and soaring moors. Alnwick itself is famous for its castle. It is the home of the Dukes of Northumberland, as well as the site of filming for the first two Harry Potter films.

Northumberland is, I think, what some Christians call a ‘thin place’. That is, it is a place where God seems very close. Not only is Lindisfarne or Holy Island found there, but there are countless sites and signs of Christian history going back the best part of two millennia. This is a place that has been prayed in and prayed over. At the same time, the ruins of castles also reveal it is a place that has been fought over. The signs of power-struggles are everywhere. The evidence of violence and prayer lies on every horizon.

Just on the outskirts of Alnwick’s town centre is one of those huge, striking memorials to the dead raised after the Great War. Three bronze servicemen stand on a plinth looking solemnly down on the traffic below. The memorial contains the names of dozens and dozens of men from Alnwick killed in the brutal campaigns between 1914 and 1918. It is a place of stillness in the midst of a busy thoroughfare.

I suppose we are used to seeing these memorials. Certainly, the commemorative events of the past few years have raised awareness again about the ghastly events of a hundred years ago.
Perhaps we have become more attentive to the lessons told by the sad, sombre figures which stand on memorials across this nation and many others. I hope so. In this year when we particularly remember the mud and terror of Passchendaele we certainly should.

My sabbatical visit to Northumberland, with its strange landscape of holy sites and ruined castles, reminded me that we shouldn’t take our commitments to peace and human flourishing for granted.
Beautiful though it is, its history reminds us that war runs deep in our DNA. Kings and would-be kings struggled over this landscape for centuries.

If my memory is accurate, atop the Alnwick memorial to the dead is a cross. It’s a good two metres above the bronze soldiers’ heads. It signals, perhaps, that faith, hope and love triumph over our violence. It indicates that the community which put up the memorial in the early 1920s had known tragedy and catastrophe, but wanted to show – in the Cross – that tragedy can be transformed into hope.

That’s what I like to believe they were doing. They channelled Northumberland’s ancient history of Christianity and its powerstruggles and showed forth their commitment to a world where the Cross stands for more than ‘the gun’.

During November, as our minds turn once again towards ‘Remembrance Sunday’ and all the mixed and complex emotions and thoughts that holds, we could do worse than meditate on the Cross. It’s a symbol that’s been used to legitimate wars that have raged for centuries and have destroyed countless lives. Medieval knights emblazoned it on their chests as they fought each other
and people in near and distant lands.

However, it also holds within it the challenge to turn away from violence. For, via the Cross we are led to the remaking of the world in Resurrection. The resurrected Christ invites us into practices of reconciliation and new life. It is from that perspective that we should attempt to live in this troublous, violent world. The violent wish to make the Cross the final judgment on the world. God invites us to another way: to live in the world from the perspective of Resurrection.

From The Churchwardens – October 2017

Jane and I have welcomed the opportunity to write the letter for the October magazine. We’ve been in charge for three months during Rachel’s sabbatical and although it has been a reasonably quiet time in the church calendar, we shall be glad to hand back the reins!

The assistant wardens and congregation have all helped us to keep things ticking over. July and August tends to be a quiet time in the life of St.Nick’s, a time for holidays and relaxation.
Father Alan has done a brilliant job of delivering Sunday services and keeping us all in check with worship and pastoral matters. He has not turned the church into a Basilica as yet but as I write this letter, there are two weeks to go until Rachel’s return, so there is time!

Father Alan has certainly been a source of invaluable advice and support. Rev Mark Hewerdine from our sister parish St.Chad’s has helped out with the 08.30am Sunday BCP service and Wednesday
morning services in July and September. We are very grateful to Alan and Mark for their contributions to our worship and for simply being at the end of an email or phone call.

In early September Father Alan delivered a training for all lay assistants and readers. We opened the building as usual for Heritage Open Days as part of the Didsbury events and we welcomed 68 visitors over the two days. Jill Lomas belongs to Chorlton Art Group and we are grateful to Jill and her friends for holding their usual exhibition in Church over the Heritage weekend. The art display adds interest and colour to the walls of the building.

We were also looking forward to Sally and Lee’s wedding, to Harvest Sunday and the start of the church preparation towards advent. Our Harvest collection has once again been donated to the charity for the homeless in Manchester, Barnabus.

Saturday September 16th brought a very special event to church, the marriage of our former ordinand, Sally Robinson to Lee Longdon. Sally is now a deacon and Lee is an ordained minister. When Rachel first announced that Sally and Lee has asked to hold their marriage service at St. Nick’s we were delighted and excited to be able to witness this special celebration. Sally and Lee kindly invited St.Nick’s church family to attend the wedding.

Jane and I realised that the wedding was going to be a rather grand affair when we were informed that over 230 guests were expected, there would be a Holy Communion and many of the clergy from the Diocese of Manchester would be in attendance including two Bishops, two Archdeacons, a list of Canons, the diocesan registrar and other VIPs. As well as lots of family and friends, no pressure then!

Sally and Lee had meticulously planned their day including hiring an extra 100 chairs, caterers and a florist. Lee had also hired a temporary organ which had the capacity to fill the whole building with sound. Rev Dr Michael Leyden, Sally’s tutor from St.Mellitus College married the couple, Bishop Mark presided at the Holy Communion and Archdeacon David Sharples delivered
the sermon. It was a new experience to prepare communion for over 200 guests with 4 chalices of wine. If only that could be our weekly congregation!

Sally and Lee’s wedding was a wonderful occasion, it was so special to share in their special day. Many congratulations to Lee and Sally!

Thank you to all the St.Nick’s folk who helped on Friday and Saturday including our hardworking car park attendants.

So, as the sabbatical comes to a close, the church is still in one piece and there have been no major catastrophes. The prayer groups have continued, pastoral visits and home communions have
been delivered, the PCC has met and continued to monitor all aspects of the church finances and fabric and we have enjoyed Father Alan’s weekly sermons and reflections. We have a lot to do in the coming months so let’s be thankful for all we have achieved together over the past three months and look forward to the rest of the year with eager anticipation for all it will bring.

With sincere thanks and love for all your prayers and support,

Alison and Jane

xx

October 2017 Magazine

Alan Writes

AlanDear friends,

As I write, there is a scent of Autumn in the air – I confess, Autumn is my favourite time of year and I look forward to dusting down my array of hats, coats and scarves with great anticipation!

September is always, the ‘gearing up’ month, with lots of young people everywhere ‘gearing up’ for new experiences and challenges as they take their next steps on their respective educational journeys – new schools, new teachers, college, university, perhaps new places to live, new friendships, new steps on the road to independence and adulthood. September can be a time of real buzz and excitement alongside the busyness it brings. We will shortly be celebrating the wedding of Lee and Sally at St Nick’s and it promises to be a really good ‘do’ with no less than two Bishops in attendance! We very much look forward to supporting them both on their big day and I know we as the St Nick’s family, alongside Lee and Sally’s families and many friends, will help to surround them with much love and prayer on such a special occasion and beyond as they build their life together.

As we ‘gear up’ for the weeks ahead, it is important that we do not get too lost in the busyness that a month like September can bring. If we can, let us ensure that we continue to find opportunities to ‘take time out’ for refreshment, relaxation and, most importantly, time for prayer and stillness to connect deeper with our Heavenly Father.

Every blessing,

Fr. Alan

September 2017 Church Magazine

Rachel Writes – July 2017

‘Summer time and the living is easy…’ So runs the famous song from Gershwin’s ‘Porgy and Bess’. In the opera, the aria is a lullaby sung to her child by Clara, a young mother. It evokes all the languid beauty of an evening in the Deep South of the United States. It’s both beautiful and sad, sung by a mother who – living in Catfish Row, a tenement in South Carolina – is poor and struggling. And yet she sings …

July – even if the weather sometimes tells us otherwise – is very much ‘summer time’. It should be a time when we enjoy the longer days and perhaps take time out in a garden, have a barbecue, or
go a holiday. July is one of those months that, at its best, is there for enjoyment.

For many, in this country and beyond, there is, of course, a great deal of uncertainty. For many, there won’t be much enjoyment this July. Locally, communities continue to process the tragedy that took place at Manchester Arena just a few weeks ago. Further afield, London has been a victim of terrorism once again. Equally, after an unexpected and unscheduled General Election many will
be sick of politics and be quite glad that parliament will soon be ‘breaking up’ for the summer recess. I won’t bore you by going on about the complexity of Brexit and its ‘hard’, ‘soft’ or ‘open’ varieties.

What is clear is that all sorts of challenges are going to be faced by the UK in the coming few years. Equally, in the midst of our national challenges, people around the world face extraordinary issues generated by environmental change, war, and geopolitical imbalances. These changes and imbalances will affect rich and poor, though – as ever – it will be the poorest who will carry the harshest burden.

Perhaps Clara’s refrain – ‘summer time and the living is easy’ – seems hardly appropriate in the wake of tragedies and the emerging problems in our world. And yet … one of the striking
things about Gershwin’s song is that it is sung right in the midst of life’s issues and agonies. The characters in Porgy and Bess are living through tough times. Their story unfolds in the midst of the 1930s Great Depression. And, still, Clara sings …

As Christians, we are called to live in the midst of reality whilst holding on to God’s promises. This is a tricky balancing act. I’m not sure human beings are made to face too much reality. Perhaps that’s why we are capable of making comforting fantasies for ourselves. Yet, if we do not face up to the challenges of living in a complicated world I’m not sure we’re being faithful to God. After all, it is this world that God redeems through Jesus Christ. But we face the complexities of the world with hope. Our hope is Christ. He is the Way, the Life and the Truth. And in following him we know that the path to new life and glory can be the way which is unafraid of pain and suffering.

The Psalms offer us a model for singing God’s song in the midst of life’s triumphs and failures. As I pray each day, I try to read at least one psalm. The Psalms constitute the Bible’s great song book and when we pray them we add our voice to that of God and his pilgrim people. In many ways, Clara’s song from Porgy and Bess is a modern-day psalm. It offers a lullaby in a cruel world. We too are called to sing God’s song – by turns, lullaby, protest-anthem, hymn of praise. What will you sing for God this day?

Rachel xx

July 2017 Magazine

Rector Writes – June 2017

It’s June and – God willing! – summer should be coming into its own. Gardens should be looking lovely, cricket games should be in full swing, and many of us will be thinking about holidays. It also strikes me that June is a good time to be thinking about ‘vocation’. As people begin to think about the hazy days of summer it’s a good time to begin to prepare for the new things God may be calling us to later in the year.

Vocation is a curious, unfashionable word. Once upon a time it was common to talk about certain careers and professions as ‘vocations’. Nurses and doctors, as well as teachers, were seen as
people in ‘vocational’ professions. They were invited to see themselves as somehow ‘called’ into something higher. Rather than being driven by money or even prestige, there was a sense in which
people were called to serve. I suspect that these days, that talk seems very old fashioned! Money and status (or lack of it) take precedence over service. The days of Mr Chips and Dr Finlay are
long behind us.

Vocation clings on in religious circles. The Church talks about vocation all the time. Most particularly it sees ordained ministry as vocational. Bishops, Priests and Deacons are called by God to serve him and his church. Increasingly, the church has become alert to the extent to which all are called. Indeed, our first vocation is as baptised Christians – to serve and follow Christ in a world of need. This vision of our common calling is an exciting one. It enables each of us to ask, how is God calling St Nick’s, and how is God calling me to serve? Vocation can include everything from helping set up chairs through to being a minister of the Sacraments. Priests often find themselves doing all these things.

I’ve been thinking about vocation for various reasons. This is a month with a very significant St Nick’s ‘goodbye’. After four years with us, we say goodbye to Sally Robinson. Sally came to us in 2013 on placement. She was exploring her vocation to ordained ministry. Along with her daughter, Abbie, she immediately brought new life into our fellowship. Together they’ve made us more fully aware of God’s generous vulnerability, his faithfulness and the power of resurrection. In the last three years – during her training and formation – we have travelled through many highs and lows together and seen Sally become more fully herself. We wish her every blessing as she is made deacon and goes to serve her title with Rev. Jackie Calow in the north of the diocese. (However, we haven’t quite said adieu to her yet! We look forward to welcoming her ‘back home’ for her wedding to Lee at St Nick’s in September.)

What has become clear since Sally joined us is that vocation and calling should be treasured amongst all. I’ve been thrilled to witness people coming forward to be involved in St Nick’s liturgical, social and missional life in so many ways. We now have a new roster of readers, servers, intercessors and lay assistants. We have new people on the PCC. We even have a few people seriously investigating being ordained themselves.

At a deep level, being called and then responding to that call is a work of humility. It is about recognizing that it is God who starts ‘the conversation’. It is about listening to his voice and responding. It is, then, about understanding the world aright and daring to become the person God is calling us to be. It is in that spirit that I have some news. From the beginning of July
through till the end of September I shall be on sabbatical. That it is happening now has been the result of long periods of prayerful reflection and negotiation with the diocese.

I’m sure that some of you will be wondering what that means for St Nick’s. Crucially, it means that Fr. Alan will temporarily be ‘actingup’ as lead priest and minister. He will, of course, be ably supported by our church wardens, Alison and Jane. However, all three will be dependent on your support at a deep level, both practically and pastorally. For Alan it will an important step in his growing ministry as he takes on more responsibilities. In Mark he shall have a wise priest-colleague, and our Area Dean and our Archdeacon are both first-class.

During that three months I shall not, alas, just be ‘on holiday’. For me, that period will be a time of reflection, prayer and listening. I, like all of us, am called and, as your parish priest, I want to listen to God’s voice. In my nine years at St Nick’s I think we’ve been two phases of ministry work: the first part involved building up relationships between ourselves and our community; the second part has been acting on them. I’m keen to listen to what God is inviting us to next.

Practically, during that three months I won’t be available. When I am in Manchester, please don’t expect me to respond to calls etc. I shall be grateful for your prayers. Letting go of the parish, even for a short while, is really hard, not least because I love you all dearly. Pray for me, as I shall pray for you.

Rachel xx

June 2017 Magazine

Rector Writes – May 2017

Since our last APCM in March 2016 we have become used to hearing new, unexpected and, for many of us, unwelcome phrases. Perhaps strangest of them all is the phrase, ‘alternative fact’. It
emerged, of course, out of the fantastically divisive US Presidential Election in which ‘the truth’ – already a slippery concept deserving our full attention – became something to be treated with contempt. We are now, apparently, in a post-truth age. The events of the past twelve months have indicated that perhaps we have entered a new era of brazenness.

The language of alternative facts, of truth and integrity are not simply political terms. They are important for religious ideas and discourse, even in this seemingly small plot of the Church of England we call the ‘Parish of Burnage, St Nicholas.’ In these tricky and tricksy political and cultural times, we – as followers of Christ – are being challenged as never before to model the hope and truth that lies within us: Jesus Christ. We do not want to pretend that ‘post-truth’ and ‘alternative facts’ will do. Jesus Christ is the Way, the Truth and the Life.

Where do we do start? Well, first a theological point and then some practical ones. We start, theologically, with the truth: that we are all, at some level, liars and tricksters. We gather in Church not to show our goodness, but to show our need for redemption. We are not good, but we want to be. We all stretch truth and are prejudiced and see it from our limited point of view. We all see through a glass-darkly and we long to see God face-to-face.

To acknowledge this theological truth can be incredibly liberating. It means we do not have to pretend we know all things. It reminds and challenges us to focus on God in all we do. When we place this in the context of our wider culture of flim-flam and self-promotion, this is a serious business indeed.

So, here’s a reminder that, though we continue to be a small fellowship facing challenging times, we are serious in our mission of service to the living God. Firstly, we should be glad that – for all practical purposes – the major phase of building work we initiated several years ago has come to an end. We are currently waiting for our architect to sign off the project after the ‘cooling-off’ period. I want to especially thank Tony Witty for his support, good humour and willingness to wrangle over often very confusing figures with me. Our building is watertight for the first time in years, a fact that will be essential if we are to properly serve our communities in the years to come. Of course, a building like ours needs constant servicing, but we are at last ready to move forward again.

At the heart of our work is prayer, worship and thanksgiving, week by week. In the past year I have been delighted to see a blossoming of our curate Alan’s ministry among us. He has shown
us a new, more Catholic approach to embodying priesthood and I have been resourced by it. I also think that we at St Nick’s have enabled him to be more informal, though I suspect it shall be a
long-time before we witness him coming to church in ripped jeans!

We are also in the process of saying goodbye to Sally who has been our ordinand for three years. She and Abby have brought delight into our midst and I’m thrilled that Sally and her fiancé Lee
will be married at St Nick’s in the autumn. We pray for her and her new ministry which begins this summer. As a congregation I think we are waking up to the importance of everyone’s call to vocation, and I’ve seen encouraging signs that members of St Nick’s are now exploring vocation to ordained and lay ministries with great seriousness.

After an incredibly busy year of activities in 2015, including The Tree of War, 2016 was quieter, but with many rewards. Being a major building site meant we were careful about what we
committed to, but our Summer and Christmas Fairs were fine occasions, and the building is now being used more and more by community groups. Our Community Christingle – which adopted a
different format this year and made stars of our Rainbow unit – was a roaring success and our Christmas services continue to speak far beyond the boundaries of the church walls. Burnage Community Choir, which emerged from this congregation, has become part of the warp and weft of our wider community and is an extraordinary musical ensemble.

St Nick’s is also entering an exciting phase as we begin to formally link with St Chad’s, Ladybarn. I’ve been delighted by how organic that process has been and it was wonderful to welcome St Chad’s to join us for Community Carols, as well as us heading up to them for our celebration of new ministries for the Feast of St Chad’s. I’m sure there will be bumps in the road as we travel together, but I genuinely believe that our travelling together will be gift. We have welcomed new friends to our fellowship and I’m thrilled about how they continue to challenge us to grow and change. New people always bring fresh ideas and new eyes. Of course, just as we’ve welcomed new friends to our fellowship we have lost a few precious ones including Muriel Nicol, Barbara Gregory Tony Huddart and Derek Wheatcroft. We also remember Jim Mills who was and is precious to several members of our congregation.

God is good, abundant, but s/he also challenges us. Over the past twelve months, the church wardens, a small group of congregation members and I have begun to develop our Mission Action Plan. It has been a revealing process. It has indicated that the church is strong at pastoral and human relationships as well as being open to liturgical innovation. However, we face significant financial challenges as well as the challenge be more closely connected with our wider community.

Equally, the second half of last year revealed how one cannot plan for the unexpected. When our dear Caroline Abiodun fell ill last autumn her roles with the finance and the hall meant we had to engage in some swift footwork. The churchwardens, assistant wardens and others rose magnificently to the task. I can’t say how grateful I am to them for their work and for Katy Mills stepping in as our interim treasurer. We continue to pray for Caroline as she gets better.

For me, personally, it has been a rich year and I thank you for your support for all I do. There have been numerous highlights including the simple joys of day-to-day ministry: being with people at the big moments of life, and laughing and crying with those who are trying to make sense of it all. It was great to re-instigate the Rector’s Quiz, to wear a silly Christmas jumper for the first time, as well as act as Lord Mayor’s Chaplain for our own Carl Austin-Behan and bring a new book to birth. I may be an unconscionable show-off, but you, my church family, keep me grounded.

There are very real issues for us in this year as in every year. Our financial situation is challenging, but we face this year with hope. As a result of negotiations with the Diocese I believe we shall pay our Parish Share in full for the first time in many years. St Nick’s must become more outward looking. The Diocese has implemented a new process of Mission Action Planning which will help us focus on particular aims and goals. I think it will become ever more important that we work closely with partners like Burnage Food Bank, the local Council and other churches.

There is much to be excited about in the coming years. I see new faces and new energy emerging in our worship life. I think closer working with St Chad’s will help us identify how God is calling us. There is so much talent and ability in this congregation, and oodles of commitment. God is good. God is abundant. God invites us into joy and new life. We are called to discern where that is and get involved.

Rascel xx

May 2017 Magazine

Rector Writes – April 2017

One of the many striking things about the four gospel accounts of Jesus Christ is how much space they devote to the events of just one week. Indeed, if they were treated as novels or as a short story, you’d probably say, ‘nice try, but a bit imbalanced.’

Consider St. Mark’s account. It’s commonly accepted as the earliest account of the Gospel. It moves with the pace and style of tabloid journalism. Each incident is treated with dash and speed.
There is no account of Jesus’ nativity. As many scholars have pointed out, St Mark’s work has the urgency of one who expects the ‘end of the world’ very soon. Yet, for all of that, at least a third of the narrative concentrates on the events between Palm Sunday and the Resurrection.

That the Gospels are so ‘imbalanced’ is an indication of the centrality of the events of Holy Week and Easter to our faith. While many in wider society make a greater fuss about Christmas, for
Christians, Easter is central. It presents the account of Our Lord’s suffering, death and resurrection. That final week takes us to the centre of God’s love for and faithfulness towards a world of need.

Of course, the Gospels are not novels or stories. They represent a fundamental way for us to encounter the good news of Jesus Christ. As I’ve suggested in my letters and sermons over the years,
there is something utterly scandalous about that good news. Not only do the Gospels suggest that God may be represented in human terms, but, in Jesus Christ, God suffers, dies and is
resurrected.

No one can begin to claim they fully understand the mysteries of Holy Week, Good Friday and Easter. But we can participate in them and discover the profound power of God’s dwelling with and in us. This Holy Week there shall be a number of opportunities to meet Christ again on the path to death to resurrection. On Monday, as has become tradition at St Nick’s, we shall have our Stations of the Cross again. I’m also glad to say that, after a few years rest, our simple Agape Meal returns on Maundy Thursday at 6pm. We shall, of course, also be keeping our usual Good Friday and Easter Day services.

All of these services remind us that, if Holy Week and Easter are not simply stories, they are dramatic. We can participate in the drama. Indeed, at one level, we must. For in Christ, God stoops low to us and enters our drama. He makes an invitation to us to meet him in liturgy, in bread and wine, and in each other. If we are to taste salvation, we must make our response to his invitation.

So, as we draw close to the central drama of our faith, may you know God’s closeness, love and trust. May you walk the way of the Cross with him. May you wait at the Foot of the Cross, and know
the unconditional love of Christ’s self-giving. On Easter Day, may we all rejoice in the completion of that love; may we know the reconciliation and joy of the Living God.

With love and blessings,

Rachel xx

April 2017 Magazine

Rector Writes – March 2017

Finally, it’s Lent. It’s felt a long time coming this year, not least because Easter is about as late as it can be. As I write this, however, I think I’m ‘ready’ for Lent, if ‘ready’ is the right word. I feel in need of challenge and fasting and reflection. I feel it’s time we all took on board the holy, if challenging, joy available to us during this season of repentance and preparation.

Lest you think me a masochist, let me outline why I think Lent is ‘overdue’. What it comes down to is this: I think we all need a ‘wake-up call’ from time-to-time. I say this as someone who is
permanently sleep-deprived and could happily sleep in till 11 am each day if circumstances allowed it! But even a lover of sleep like me acknowledges the value of a good alarm from time to time. And that is what Lent is. It is a clarion call from God – a call to see ourselves and the world more clearly and respond to God’s loving invite into faithfulness.

This clarion call is made to all, but it is also specific. Lent is a challenge to communities as well as individuals. Indeed the idea that Lent is about individuals is quite a new idea. I’m not saying that we shouldn’t use these forty days to search our consciences or give something up, but Lent’s deeper challenge is for the whole community to prepare for the heart of our faith: Easter.

So how might the wake-up call be applied to us at St Nick’s? Well, if I’m honest I want to say it is a matter for discernment rather than hard-and-fast rules. However, I’ve encountered enough of God’s startling love down the years to know that the wake-up call isn’t likely to be comfortable. It’s more likely to be the holy equivalent of a bucket of icy water thrown on our drowsy faces than a gentle nudge.

Here are some of the things I suspect God is challenging our community about as we journey through Lent. Firstly, that we can’t ever afford to be inward-looking. Yes, Sunday-by-Sunday we
gather for worship, and that’s great, but who we are is shown in our relationships with the wider world.

Equally, we can’t expect to be popular or liked simply because we call ourselves Christians. We have a great charge that we share in common: to serve and love with the wild abundant love of God.
And we may get few thanks for being faithful to that calling. We may not get much applause, but our task is to be faithful in a needy world. For when we strip back the cheap glamour and promises of the world, we come face-to-face with Christ. Christ comes to us in the shape of those who are on the outside. Christ is not comfortable but challenging.

The good news, however, is that God is faithful. We can be so easily discouraged (Well, I know I can!). However, the paths we follow are those already walked by Christ. We follow after him. He
may lead us into unexpected, challenging places, but he doesn’t abandon us. In our personal struggles, in our corporate fears and in the world’s endless need, God is present. And he cherishes us and we are called to cherish and delight in him.

May Lent be a time of wondrous discovery for you!

Rachel xx

Rector Writes – February 2017

As many of you will know, I’m fascinated by words. Perhaps that’s hardly surprising given I’m a writer. ‘February’ is an interesting case in point. Its origins lie in Roman antiquity. It’s derived from the Latin name for the second month of the Julian calendar, ‘Februarius’. This name itself was derived from the Roman festival of ‘Februalia’, a term which basically means ‘purification’. So, the meaning of ‘February’ is – effectively – ‘time of purification’.

I have to admit, when put like that, ‘February’ sounds rather ominous. ‘Time of Purification’ sounds like a slogan Chairman Mao might have used in Communist China, c.1965. It would have
presaged nothing good. For the Romans, ‘purification’ would have referred to rituals of cleansing and preparation, of purging excesses. In an agrarian society such practices would have been
significant as it prepared for spring and the agricultural year. It was both ‘spring cleaning’ and ritual purification.

These ideas of purification – of purging excess and spring cleaning – all have resonances in our modern world. February is usually the month in which we begin Lent, that extended season of preparation and fasting. Shrove Tuesday is a modern way of gathering up ‘excess’ and having a splurge before a time of restraint. And in February – as we usually see the first signs of spring – people often begin to think of having proper ‘spring clean’.

This year February is slightly different. As Easter is very late, it’s March before we begin Lent. Yet, in some ways, perhaps this year’s extended wait for Ash Wednesday only amplifies the (forgive the word!) ‘purgative’ nature of February. In my imagination, February always conjures a time when the weather is at its bleakest and – despite the appearance of flowers like snowdrops – there is snow on the ground. It feels to me like the deepest bite of winter. I think of it as ‘cleaning up’ the last remnants of the previous year.

In our modern technological world in which most people live in cities perhaps we’ve lost connection with the deep rhythms of life that most of our forebears knew. Pieter Bruegel, the great 16th
century artist, understood how seasons, life and devotion all went hand in hand. He – and his team of painters – produced extraordinary images of early modern life in which ‘holiness’ and
devotion were simply part of life. That incredible painting of the ‘Massacre of the Innocents’ is shown as taking place in deep snow in the Netherlands. He is always alert to how the divine – in both beautiful and terrifying manifestations – waits to greet us in the ordinary. If you have time, look that painting up (as well as the justly famous copy of his ‘Landscape with the Fall of Icarus’.) The extraordinary always lurks in the ordinary.

Perhaps that’s what we all need to recover: a sense of God’s grace and wonder and terrific power in the midst of our humdrum lives. As we prepare, once again, to enter
Lent, perhaps it is time to look around and see, or to still ourselves and listen. February can feel like a bleak month, where we are caught between the echoes of the old year
and the desire to get on with spring and summer. But perhaps that’s its power: God is sometimes to be found ‘in-between’: in our frustrations and longings as much as our joy and fulfilments. On
chilly and dark mornings I hope that you, along with me, are prepared to wait on God and discern his love, emerging like the first spring flower.

Rachel xx

The Rector Writes – January 2017

The turning of the New Year is often a time for reflection and reminiscence. In any ordinary year there will be a lot to consider and reflect on. However, 2016 has, by any measure, been extraordinary. Many important 20th century popular culture icons have gone to join the Great Majority, including David Bowie, Leonard Cohen, Victoria Wood and Alan Rickman. More significantly, the implications of the Brexit Referendum vote in June will be felt not only in the UK, but around the world for decades to come. And, then, we have President…well, resident Trump.

I know there will be a range of views about all these things. Many people will say, ‘Who cares about the death of someone like David
Bowie?’ However, the sense that many 20th century icons have died suddenly is an indication that we’re truly into the 21st century now. The 20th Century that formed so many of us over the age of forty is history now.

Equally, some people will say, the UK leaving the EU is long overdue. Personally, I am still in shock. It feels like a catastrophe in
the making. I’ve grown up in the EU and I am a proud Brit and a proud European. I think for many people younger than me it just seems unbelievable that the European dream is over. And, then, we come back to President Trump. Frankly, his appointment strikes me
as one of the most worrying international developments of the past fifty years.

So, 2016! On a global scale, I suspect it may go down as one of the significant moments in the story of the 21st century. It may signal
the point at which the 21st century ‘came of age’. However, as our thoughts turn to a New Year I still believe we do so in confidence. Why? Because, in faith, we say, ‘Jesus Christ yesterday, today and tomorrow.’ And we don’t do so in some stupid, complacent way. That is, we don’t just say, ‘Nothing can trouble us because we’re special.’ Rather, because we seek to follow in Christ’s Way, we trust that – in the midst of life’s challenges – ultimately God’s Story is definitive.

God’s invitation to live on his promises is incredibly challenging. I am reminded of the story of Dietrich Bonhoeffer. He was a Lutheran
Pastor during the Second World War. He was arrested for resisting Hitler and, after over a year in prison, was put to death. In the face of incredible challenge, he continued to live and work for the Gospel and he didn’t give into despair. The world was crumbling
around him and he kept faith, because God keeps faith.

While in prison, he wrote the following poem:

All men go to God in their distress,
seek help and pray for bread and happiness,
deliverance from pain, guilt and death,
All men do, Christians and others.

All men go to God in His distress
find Him poor, reviled, without shelter or bread,
watch Him tormented by sin, weakness and death.
Christians stand by God in His hour of grieving.

God goes to all men in their distress,
satisfies body and soul with His bread,
dies, crucified for all, Christians and others,
and both alike forgiving.

Of course, it’s a translation and as such it loses much of its power and subtlety. But it’s still possible to discern an extraordinary theological claim: That God meets us in our need, no matter who we are. Not because we’re Christian or good or special or blessed. No. He meets us and offers himself body and soul and forgives us. Why? Because that is God’s very nature. Because God is the Love Supreme.

God’s wondrous nature remains no grounds for complacency. In being invited to Follow The Way we do so in acknowledgement that we’re Christ’s Body on earth. And how we go about that way of being matters. We can choose to sit on our hands, we can bury our heads in the sand. Or we can show courage and faith and love. We can live as Christ lived. It may be costly, but it is also the way to abundant life.

May you have a Happy New Year!

Rachel xx

January 2017 Magazine

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