Old Thoughts...

We ran out of space on the Thought for the month page and had to delete some of the older thoughts.  So here they are...


Thought for December 2017: God with us

You may have seen the controversy about the High Street chain Greggs, and their Advent Calendar. Each day in the 'Merry Greggsmas' calendar there is a token to redeem at the shop. The bakers released a promotional image for its festive calendar that shows a part eaten sausage roll replacing the baby Jesus in the manger surrounded by the Three Wise Men. Not surprisingly they have had to apologise for the 'bad taste'. At least it makes a change from the usual chocolate Advent calendar.

But what is Advent all about? Is it just a countdown to the big day, reminding us how much time is left to get everything done, with little sweeteners on the way to keep us going?

I'd like to suggest a few ways that might help to make these next few weeks special.

The Church of England has produced a campaign called #GodWithUs - Your Christmas Journey. Archbishop Justin Welby says in his introduction to the reflective guide "The constant refrain of Christmas, in carols and readings, is that God is with us. In whatever situations you find yourself this Christmas, God is with you - you need only turn to him and ask to know his presence".

Your Christmas Journey is a series of short reflections throughout December and into early January 2018, which people can receive as texts, emails, on social media, or you can get a good old fashioned booklet! The reflections have been written as soul food for people who are new to faith, but also help us all grow in our love of God.

The Bible Society has also launched its #AdventChallenge. If you sign up through the Bible Society website, each day of Advent they will email you a choice of three challenges to help you bring the Bible to life in a practical way, alongside a short reflection following the characters of the Nativity story on their journey to Bethlehem. The challenges vary from giving flowers, encouraging someone, getting to know your neighbours better, making a donation to a foodbank, tidying a shared living space, to leaving a note for your refuse collector. You choose which challenges are appropriate for you to accept.

If you would benefit from meeting with others to discuss an aspect of Advent, we have a number of Advent study groups meeting in December.

In groups meeting on Monday and Wednesday evenings, we'll be looking at the classic Frank Capra film It's a Wonderful Life. Just as Christmas can promise so much and then deliver so little, our own lives can seem bittersweet when we consider dreams we may have had that never worked out. George Bailey, played by James Stewart, discovers that it is never too late to re-evaluate our lives, to find much to be thankful for, and to live again. It's a story of hope, of seeing the best in people, and how we can make the world a better place.

In a group, which is meeting on Monday mornings, people are reading Jane Williams' book Approaching Christmas. This is a beautiful and thoughtful companion to the season of Advent and Christmas, and encourages readers to explore the true meaning of the festive season through a combination of reflections, quotations and classic art. The chapters focus on objects and activities we all associate with Christmas - such as making lists, decorations, gifts, Christmas trees, music, food and family - as well as special days such as Christmas Eve and Epiphany. In each section, Jane Williams brings together her own personal experience, Christmas traditions, spiritual reflection and quotations from scripture and other writings through the ages. The result is an imaginative and stimulating exploration of the riches of this season - all laced with beautiful reproductions of Christmas-themed paintings.

If you would like more information about any of these, please let me know. I do wish you and your family a holy and joyful Christmas when it comes!

Thought for November 2017: A Dementia Friendly Community

More and more of us are learning first-hand what it is like to have someone we care for, who is suffering with dementia. There are currently around 850,000 living with the condition in the country. As we live longer this number is set to grow. There are a variety of forms the disease takes and it can slowly strip someone of their identity and anchors. It is a cruel illness, often hard to live with, and can easily lead to both sufferer and carer being ignored or isolated from community and family.

We recently held a workshop at Shipham to learn more. The evening was led for us by Revd Helena McKinnon, who works with St Monica's Trust in Bristol and, as we learned, has huge reserves of experience and understanding, love and care. St Monica's motto is "Tempus Fugit, Caritas Manet" - time may have flown, but the love will always remain.

Sadly it is all too easy to write people off as having 'lost it'. We were challenged and encouraged to see how a person travelling down the dementia road is no less valued or loved by God, and continues to bear and reflect the image of God. They deserve dignity and inclusion as much as anyone.

Helena gave us the picture of dementia as a bookcase. Every shelf represents a different time period of life, each holding memories for that time. The bottom shelf is childhood and possibly very young adulthood, gradually working upwards towards the present. As time moves on the bookcase gets moved and the shelves begin to weaken over time. It gets dusty and mixed up; things start to fall off the shelves and get put back in the wrong place. The shelves themselves lose their shape or fall altogether.

Often the only shelf to remain relatively intact is that bottom shelf, with emotional memories of the first period of life. This is why we often seem at odds with those we know suffering from dementia and why they may seem to not know who we are for the best part. She gave us bags of ideas about how we can engage emotional memories through familiar sights, sounds and smells, how we can improve a quality of life.

Helena finished the evening with this moving version of the Beatitudes by Esther Mary Walker:

Beatitudes for Friends of the Aged

Blessed are they who understand
My faltering steps and shaking hand.

Blessed are they who know that my ears today
Must strain to catch the words they say.

Blessed are they who seem to know
That my eyes are dim and my reactions slow.

Blessed are they that look away
When my coffee gets spilled during the day.

Blessed are they with a cheery smile
Who stop to chat with me for a while.

Blessed are they who never say
"You've told that story twice today."

Blessed are they who know the ways
To bring back lovely yesterdays.

Blessed are they who make it known
That I'm loved, respected and not alone.

Blessed are they who know the loss
Of strength I need to bear the cross.

Blessed are they who ease the days
Of my journey home in loving ways.

If you would like to discuss any of this further, please just ask.

Thought for October 2017: Revolution!

At Axbridge School we always love to sing with gusto and high spirits:

O Lord, all the world belongs to you
and you are always making all things new.
What is wrong, you forgive,
and the new life you give
is what's turning the world upside down.

The next few weeks will see two anniversaries of revolutions in European history that turned the world upside down.

In 1917 the war was going badly for the Russians. The army was on its knees. The previous winter had been severe and food was in short supply and prices were rising. The government was in disarray, and the ruling class remote. This catalogue of problems triggered riots on the streets of the capital Petrograd, with the crowds demanding bread and peace. The February and October Revolutions of that year were to have consequences that continue to shape Europe.

This month also marks another important anniversary. Five hundred years ago, on 31st October 1517, a different kind revolution was triggered by the protest of a monk, Martin Luther. Luther is said to have nailed a piece of paper to the door of his local church in Wittenberg, cataloguing his concerns about the church of his day, and inviting people to respond to his 95 theses.

He had become convinced that the church was corrupt and had lost sight of some of the central truths of Christianity. The most important for Luther was the idea of justification. His view was that salvation is a gift of God's grace, attainable only through faith; sola fide was his mantra. God's forgiveness was not for sale.

Reaction quickly gathered momentum and the Reformation had begun. Over the next few years the face of the church changed radically across many German states and other countries of Europe. In England a small group started to meet in Cambridge to study Luther's ideas, along with other writings, and the Church of England as we know it was emerging.

One of Martin Luther's key hopes was to place the Bible into the hands of ordinary Christians. He translated it from Latin, the language of scholars and clergy, into a German which people could read and understand. His New Testament was published in 1522 and the whole Bible in 1534.

Luther also enthused about music as the greatest gift of God after religion itself. "Next to the Word of God, the noble art of music is the greatest treasure in the world," he said. "Beautiful music is the art of the prophets that can calm the agitations of the soul; it is one of the most magnificent and delightful presents God has given us." He preserved much of the beautiful sound of Catholic worship, but he also inaugurated strong, simple melodies that could be sung by the entire congregation. Johann Sebastian Bach wrote much glorious music for the reformed church around this time. (The importance of Reformation music has been recognised in this year's Promenade concerts.)

Look out for two 500th anniversary events taking place locally this month, for which tickets are now available. St Cuthbert's, Wells, is hosting 'A Monk's Tale', which promises the 95 theses in 59 minutes on 5 October. It is a play that has been touring the country, including the Edinburgh Fringe, and is billed as light, accessible and funny, using sketches and songs to explain the theological disputes of the period. It promises to put the wit into Wittenberg. If you're not sure that this strikes the right tone, Luther himself said, "If I'm not allowed to laugh in heaven, I don't want to go there".

Then the Bishop of Kensington, Graham Tomlin, will be speaking at the Bishop's Palace as part of the Wells Festival of Literature on 20th October on his book 'Luther and his World'. Luther, he says, has all sorts of insights to offer into contemporary issues such as sex, freedom, prayer and evil.

I'll finish with a favourite Lutheran saying:

Even if I knew that the world were to collapse tomorrow, I would still plant my apple tree today

Thought for September 2017: Can you smell Heaven?

This was written at great speed, so forgive me if it is more incoherent than usual.

So, when you walk your dog in the early morning you often get a preview of the coming season well before it actually arrives. Later in the day this is lost, but early, there it is. Recently I've noticed the scent of autumn as we trudge through the sodden fields and sure enough the blackberries are ripening. At home the first Christmas catalogue arrived well before the geese are due to come honking over the reservoir.

This summer is fading, maybe next year's will be better.  But what is different this time is that I don't know if I or my little dog will be around to see it.

We've both got serious illnesses.  We're both medicated to the eyeballs to delay the inevitable outcome and we're both enjoying life, if somewhat slowly.  But I do wonder when the swallows swoop overhead if I will see them when they return.  And then it gets interesting.  Where we're going, do they have swallows?  Where will we be? (Please note the "we", a minor detail like death is not going to separate us.  And the present Pope agrees, he's well named Francis.)  And wherever it is, will it be very different?

I am not enamoured of the City of God, the New Jerusalem, as depicted in the Book of Revelation.  I was relieved to learn it is not a preview of a post-retirement brochure, but based on the First Temple.  Casting my crown (if I get one) before me across the glassy sea towards the Throne doesn't attract like throwing tennis balls for my dogs in a summer meadow.  It used to worry me as a child that Heaven was said to be such a wonderful place but sounded far from it.  So I was even more relieved to learn that all our ideas, however inspired, from however  Divine the source, all of them are filtered through us to us.  Even if you are a serious Saint.

What this means I think, is that we need to remember that we simply can't imagine whatever lies ahead, which, like the concept of God, is really unimaginable.  This is wonderful because my imagination may be vivid, but it is also limited.  I can't jump out of my skin.  There is a lot more to life, eternity and everything else than I can manage to dream up.  If I'm regularly astonished by the images that turn up on my computer, it's a safe bet that Heaven is going to knock me into a cocked hat.

Heaven has rather taken the place of sex as a subject for Christians (and others) to feel embarrassed about.  Not to be talked about in case we're shown to be immature or gullible or uncaring about the many present day needs that must be met.  Heaven is, I think a very mature subject when you think about it properly, not just walking about in nightshirts, clutching harps, up to our ankles in clouds.  Gullible isn't likely for people who live in today's world and do care about the many present day needs.  And try to meet them, which most churchgoers do, one way or another.

Dying likewise tends to get ignored in polite society - which is silly because it is the one thing all of us actually have in common.  I'm not sure when I'm going to do it but it will be relatively soon and I fully expect the first person I see to be Mum.  And not clutching a harp.

I don't know if you can smell Heaven before it arrives, as you can the seasons, but if I do I won't keep it a secret.  I hope it smells of grass and also many other things that at present I simply can't imagine.  I can't jump out of my skin.  Yet.

 with Love and Prayers



Thought for August 2017: One More Step

I’ve just finished my round of Leavers’ services for our First Schools with what seems like the obligatory rendition of Sydney Carter’s hymn “One more step along the world I go”. There were a number of tears in the services, mostly from parents, but in truth it is a big step on the journey, both for children, and their parents. My oldest grandson, in a different school system, is leaving his junior school to go on to senior school in September. It feels more like a big leap, exciting and a bit scary at the same time.

As I was preparing for the services, I was reminded of a moment, exactly 48 years before on 20 July 1969, when the world seemed to be glued to their television screens. It was a small, flickering, black and white picture back in those days. Together with the rest of the world, I was mesmerised by the Apollo 11 mission as the small space craft landed on the surface of the moon. For a while we held our breath and then heard Neil Armstrong say, “Houston, the Eagle has landed”.

Soon Armstrong climbed down the steps of the lunar module and uttered those immortal words, "That's one small step for a man, one giant leap for mankind." It felt like science fiction coming to life.

moon walkBuzz Aldrin, who followed him on the moon walk, remembers the experience. “When Neil and I stood on the desolate, barren, yet beautiful, Sea of Tranquillity, looking back at our brilliant blue planet Earth suspended in the darkness of space, I realized that even though we were farther away from Earth than two humans had ever been, we were not alone. Virtually the entire world took that memorable journey with us.”

Sydney Carter’s hymn reminds us of the Christian belief that God goes with us on the steps of our journeys, whether they are big or small. We are not alone. The hymn is also a prayer: keep me travelling along with you.

There was a third member of the Apollo 11 crew, Michael Collins, who was a vital part of the mission. He remained in the command module Columbia and spent the day orbiting the moon. In his autobiography he wrote how during the 48 minutes of each orbit that he was out of radio contact with Earth, the feeling he reported was not loneliness, but rather "awareness, anticipation, satisfaction, confidence, almost exultation”.

Several thousand years before the space programme, the Psalmist, looking in the opposite direction from earth to the moon, wrote:

When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars that you have established; what are human beings that you are mindful of them, mere mortals that you care for them?

Before Armstrong and Aldrin stepped out onto the moon, Aldrin asked, "I would like to request a few moments of silence … and to invite each person listening in, wherever and whomever they may be, to pause for a moment and contemplate the events of the past few hours, and to give thanks in his or her own way."

Hopefully August will give us chance to do the same; to stop and pause and reflect on our journey, and the steps that lie in front of us.

Thought for July 2017: A Contrast of Moods

Saturday 17 June was a day for basking in the glorious sunshine. There was a happy and record crowd at the garden of Rowberrow Manor, enjoying a traditional English village fête, together with a collection of magnificent cars. I’m in awe that such a tiny hamlet can put together an occasion like this. So too at the Axbridge Celebration Day, many people were enjoying themselves on one of those occasions when the Square comes alive in a very special way.

All of this was in sharp contrast to the overall feeling in much of the rest of the nation.  In the Queen’s Birthday message, she described a very sombre national mood. In the past two or three weeks, the country has reeled from a succession of terrible events.
After the terrorist attacks in Manchester and London Bridge and Borough Market, the Archbishop of Canterbury offered this reflection:

'The strongest power in the world is the love of Jesus Christ.  It is more powerful than the evil of terror and all the profound wickedness of the terrorist.  It is invisible to most rulers.  It is unheard of by most communicators.  It has no Twitter account.  It does not show up on Facebook but has overcome more nations than the greatest of armies.  It has changed more lives than the finest orators and communicators.  It has drawn more people into true community than all the social media there is, has been, or ever could be.  It breaks down barriers between races, it tears down the frontiers between nations, it overcomes the oppressions between genders, and classes, and capacity, and wealth, and education.  It is this love which daily transforms my life, our lives, all those who follow Jesus Christ, and the lives of many millions around the world.  And we need the difference that Jesus makes.  We need the order brought out of chaos. We need the knowledge of an eternal purpose for each of us.  We need to know that whatever other people do to us, God loves us forever.'

Sadly someone, though, did feel the need to retaliate from those acts of terror, and deliberately drove into a group of people coming out of late night prayers in the mosque in Finsbury Park, an act which can only perpetuate the terror.  This tit-for-tat kind of action is fuel for further unrest in our community.
As if that wasn’t enough to cope with, we witnessed the dreadful pictures of the fire in Grenfell Tower in London.  The immediate mood was of shock and horror.  But the shock quickly turned to frustration as survivors and relatives tried to find information about loved ones, or what was going to happen next, and then to anger at why the fire spread so quickly.  “There are an awful lot of angry people and it’s easy to understand why,” one person said.

There were also heart-warming stories coming out of West London.  The extraordinary and courageous work of the emergency services was seen in sharp focus.  There were also the spontaneous responses of the local community and beyond to people’s basic needs. Help came from all quarters, and from all creeds and none, including the local churches.  At one Methodist Church, which was used as a collection point for practical support, a leader said, “the volume of items has been sensational.

"The community effort has been spellbinding.  We are used to coming together once a year for the Notting Hill carnival, but no one wanted to do so under these circumstances.”

I wonder what July will bring…?

For me some of the very special July moments are the Leavers’ services at our two First schools, as children reflect on what they have learnt in their first five years of formal education, and the building blocks, which they have in place for their next stage and all that is to follow.

I pray that we may learn from the lessons of the past month’s events, good and bad, and invest our energies in building relationships, and in responding with love.

Thought for June 2017: Thy Kingdom Come

June is a big month, nationally, domestically and locally. We have the General Election on the 8th, my Dad’s 90th birthday on the 12th, and the Rowberrow Fête on the 17th! What a mixed bag?!

But before we get to any of these, we are challenged to pray ‘Thy Kingdom Come’. Between Ascension and Pentecost, (25 May - 4 June), Churches and Christians across England, including the Cheddar Valley, will be coming together to pray.

We will be remembering how the first disciples waited after Jesus’ Ascension and prayed together for God’s Spirit to come, not sure what would happen next. We pray for the same Holy Spirit that filled them on Pentecost to fill us today. As we wait we pray to be more open to receiving the Holy Spirit - and more capable of showing the grace of God in all that we are and do. Prayer is the place where change begins.

‘To pray Thy Kingdom Come is to pray for a shift in the world around us.
It is to yearn for things to be different.
To imagine transparency in a culture of fake news.
To find compassion in a society that resorts so readily to shame and blame.
To long for grace, mercy and peace in an anxious and fearful world.’ (Ian Adams)

During these days we will be offering a range of opportunities to join in prayer. Amongst other things, Shipham and Axbridge churches will be open for people to drop in during the day, as they are almost every day of the year. Prayer installations will give ideas of how to experience prayer using touch, sight, sound, silence, light and darkness. We can pray for particular people and situations, or we can just come and be still.

For the more energetic, the local Churches of all denominations are organising a pilgrimage, a prayer walk from Cheddar to the Wells at the Bishops Palace, the site of early worship in this area. This will be on Saturday 3 June, leaving Cheddar Baptist Church at 8:45am. It’s a glorious walk of about twelve and a half miles, and incorporates some of the West Mendip Way. Please ask if you would like more information about that – or if you would like to sign up for some or all of the walk.

“Some days I find that prayer comes easily. On others, it’s a struggle. But I’m always mindful that prayer is not just another thing we do. It’s the breath that sustains us.” These could be my words; in fact they are the words of Justin Welby.

In prayer we can talk with God, be silent with God - or just express our longing for him. I hope that during this time we might rediscover that our conversation, our attention, our praise, our company is a sheer delight to God.

Mark Wahlberg, star of a wide range of movies from Deepwater Horizon and the 2003 version of The Italian Job and Ted, is quoted as saying, ‘If I can start my day out by saying my prayers and getting myself focused, then I know I’m doing the right thing. That ten minutes helps me in every way throughout the day’.

So we pray for nothing less than the transformation of ourselves and our world as we say ‘Thy Kingdom Come’.

Thought for May 2017: Good Friday?

Coming out of Rowberrow Church after our meditation at the foot of the cross on Good Friday, someone posed the question I guess most of us have asked. “What makes it ‘Good’ Friday?” What is good about an event so dark and bleak, and so full of suffering?

The news had added a particularly sombre note to our journey through Holy Week. On Palm Sunday there had been brutal attacks on two Coptic churches in Egypt, there was rising tension with North Korea, the so-called ‘mother of all bombs’ had been dropped in Afghanistan, and many parts of the world seemed to be more unstable than ever. What was there to celebrate? What hope was there to offer to a world teetering on the brink of escalating conflict and division? We don’t exactly seem to have learnt much since that first Good Friday.

I was able to give the person a poem by Cheryl Lawrie, which I find helpful.

They call today Good Friday
But what could make this day good?
If you have ever believed that love inevitably leads to betrayal,
this day says it doesn’t.
If you have ever believed that some people are unlovable, irredeemable,
this day says they aren’t.
If you have ever believed that there is a limit to forgiveness,
this day says there isn’t.
If you have ever believed you aren’t worth saving,
this day says you are.
If you have ever believed that you don’t deserve freedom,
this day says you do.
If you have ever believed that fear, anger, hate and despair will always win,
this day says it won’t.
This day is good for you.

Good Friday and Easter Day go hand in hand as we celebrate what Christians believe to be the most momentous weekend, a turning point in human history. As Rowan Williams put it, ‘it is the calling of the church to testify to this event as the event of history, the second big bang.’ Or as someone else said, ‘to find the sun rising in the west would be less of a change than occurred in the resurrection’.

Jesus didn’t just happen to be in Jerusalem on that Palm Sunday. He went to Jerusalem for a reason. To send a message that not even the titanic powers of death can stop the love of God.  God’s self-offering love was demonstrated on the cross. On the first Easter morning, he rose from the dead, and proclaimed love wins. The words he gave his friends on that day come through the centuries to us afresh: ‘Do not be afraid’. The things that overshadow our lives with fear, whether they are our own domestic worries or the concerns we have over events across the world, do not have the last word. In the hard journeys we all face, the risen Lord comes alongside and, with love and gentleness, brings restoration and hope.

Over the next few weeks I’m looking forward to singing a hymn to the tune of Danny Boy, with words written by June Boyce-Tillman:

We shall go out with hope of resurrection,
We shall go out, from strength to strength go on,
We shall go out, and tell our stories boldly,
Tales of a love that will not let us go.
We'll sing our songs of wrongs that can be righted,
We'll dream our dream of hurts that can be healed,
We'll weave a cloth of all the world united,
Within the vision of a Christ who sets us free.

I’m hoping to start up a group which explores some of these fundamental Christian truths. If you are interested in finding out more, possibly with a view to being confirmed, please let me know.

In this Easter season, may we be people of the Resurrection, unashamed to love, and unashamed to follow Jesus.

Happy Easter!

Thought for April 2017: Living Water?

I was sitting next to someone from Rowberrow at the Men’s Breakfast yesterday and hearing that they had no water at their cottage that morning. Apparently there had been a burst main affecting parts of Rowberrow, Winscombe and Churchill. Hopefully that will soon be sorted, if it hasn’t already.

I guess that all of us over recent weeks have been watching the gradual march of the new blue pipeline that is being laid along the Axbridge bypass. This is part of a new £27 million water infrastructure project that will secure the supply to 280,000 people across Somerset as 30km of water main is being installed between Cheddar and Barrow Gurney. Bristol Water promise that we will have a much more secure water supply once the scheme is complete.

The disruption in traffic with the temporary lights hasn’t been quite as bad as some had feared, other than one spectacular day when everything ground to a halt. Perhaps, though, waiting for the lights to change has given us the opportunity to reflect on the significance of water.

While we complain about the minor blips in our supply, we hear of the devastating effect of the famine in large parts of central Africa. On one news report we were told that in part of Somalia there had been no rain for three years.

Pure, flowing water gushes from our taps, but in many parts water is a scarce commodity. People, particularly women, have to go and collect it from the nearest well. When it comes from a river it is often stagnant. Instead of being life-giving, it carries deadly water-borne diseases and needs to be boiled before use. Over one billion people in our world have no access to clean water.

In stark contrast, work is in progress at the moment in the Church Rooms at Axbridge, and one of the stipulations is that we have to fit no less than three sinks into the small kitchen for hygiene purposes.

The need for a good and clean water supply was part of daily life in Biblical times too. When the people of the Exodus were wandering in the desert, their leaders were faced with the reasonable question, ‘Why did you bring us here?’ The wilderness was a place of harsh extremes. They had been better off as slaves in Egypt. At least they had food and water; but in this desolated place they were parched, had no energy, and some had given up the will to live.

In John’s Gospel we read how Jesus met a woman from Samaria at a well. It was a hot day and Jesus was tired and thirsty from his travels. She had a bucket and he didn’t. “Please can I have a drink?” he asked. It was a straightforward request.

Laying aside the whole scandal of the conversation taking place at all, let alone him asking her for a drink and sharing her bucket, which is lost on us, the conversation quickly turned to the woman’s deepest needs. In John’s writing there are different layers. On the surface there was the thirst, the well and the bucket. Then there was the deeper issue of what lay underneath.

The Samaritan woman was no stranger to thirst. That’s why she was at the well, but it also turned out that she was living with a partner, and had been married five times before. Here was a person who was thirsty for a lasting, stable relationship.

Jean Vanier, the founder of the L’Arche Communities, reflects on the incident, and how Jesus met and welcomed this fragile, broken woman. He didn’t judge or condemn her. He wasn’t condescending. Instead he approached her as a tired and thirsty beggar, asking her to do something for him. As they sat by the well, sipping the refreshing drink, Jesus told her about a spring of living water, and of a holy spirit that could quench her deepest needs, and ours. “Sir,” she said, “give me this water, so that I may never be thirsty.”

Thought for March 2017: An Inclusive Church?

At our last Deanery Synod we were exploring why churches are difficult to get into. Sometimes the reasons are obvious and visible. At Axbridge a group is beavering away at how we make our glorious medieval building more easily accessible to those who find steps a problem. Finding a way of achieving this and getting the appropriate planning permission from the local authority and diocese takes a lot of time and patience, but we are determined to get it done!

Churches have a legal responsibility to ensure that their buildings are safe and accessible – but inclusion for those living with disability is something that goes far beyond installing ramps and toilets. Many of the things that exclude people are not visible. Deafness, depression, dementia, or simply just by being different are just a few of the various ways which may exclude people. Sadly many have felt and been rejected by the church simply because of who they are.

One of the exercises we did at Deanery synod was to complete the statement ‘Inclusion is…’

Here are a few possible answers. Inclusion is… ‘believing that God loves everybody’

‘…valuing difference and seeing people as God does’
‘…taking time & thought to understand where others are coming from’
‘…the freedom to be yourself - who God made you to be’

Michael Curry, the Presiding Bishop of the American Episcopal Church, said “our commitment to be an inclusive church is not based on a social theory or capitulation to the ways of the culture, but on our belief that the outstretched arms of Jesus on the cross are a sign of the very love of God reaching out to us all.” 

Tim Hind’s brief note from General Synod in February (also on page 15 of Catch this) reminds us that someone’s sexuality can also exclude. The Church continues to wrestle with this issue.

Sam Wells, the Vicar of St Martin’s in the Fields, London, speaks of his cousin whose disability put him on the edge but who learned to make the edge his home. ‘When Tim was four years old his parents were told Tim was autistic. The consultant didn’t mince words. “You must bring him up like a dog”, he told my aunt, stressing the need for clear instructions and boundaries, the need to bridle the boy’s volatile frustration. The family understood that Tim was going to be a problem. His mother shaped his character carefully. For all the bleak prognostications, Tim found areas of life where he flourished. He played the piano. He sang, growing into a deep bass. He appreciated music so much that he could become ecstatic on hearing a Mozart concerto. He appreciated routine, and before she died, my aunt ensured that he would find a regular place volunteering at a local care home, doing odd jobs and gardening. He died suddenly, aged 46.

At his funeral there were the usual seats left for his brothers, their families, and for the extensive wider family. The seats for the wider family were mostly empty. They had always found Tim hard to relate to; they could not pretend they really knew him and they stayed away. But behind those rows of empty seats, the rest of the church was overflowing with people. And as the service proceeded, one story after another was told that explained why. One woman recalled how, new to faith, for her first six months she didn’t participate in the hymns but simply watched Tim’s face as he sang with the choir: he was so enraptured – she wanted to be like him. Everyone realised that, had it been their own funeral, the church would have been much less full. Tim’s life had begun with being thought of as a dog. But at his funeral it was abundantly clear how God had chosen what is foolish in the world to shame the wise, and what is weak in the world to shame the strong. Tim’s life ended with him eating not just the scraps from the master’s table but sharing the whole banquet, for evermore.’

If the Deanery Synod taught me anything it was that we need to have our eyes and our hearts open if we are to become more of an inclusive church.  Perhaps we should be looking to see that inclusion is celebration not mere acceptance.

Thought for February 2017: The Army of Volunteers

One of the things I am very conscious of as a vicar, (or Rector; call me what you will!), is the vast amount that is is done by all sorts of willing people.  What seems like a whole army of people offer their skills to enrich our churches and communities and get on with making sure that jobs that need to be done are done.  By and large I’m the only one who is paid for doing what I do.  The rest of you do it voluntarily, out of love. Although paid, I hope that I do it at least with love too…!

As we begin a new year, I am more conscious of these voluntary contributions than ever.  A number of people are retiring from jobs that they have done for years, and I would like to mark my appreciation of the part they have played in our Benefice.

In Shipham we see the retirement of Jill Lewis and Sally Herring, who in recent years have looked after Lenny’s Community Café, managing the staff rota and making sure it was ready to open for visitors from the village and beyond.  It looks like a group of people have taken up the reins and will ‘give it a go’ starting up on 20 February, exactly 20 years after Lenny’s was first launched (see page 7 of the February Catch this).

Paul Ashmore has been Treasurer of St Leonard’s for fifteen years, and this is work that involves hours of careful management of church finances, painstakingly accounting for every last bean.  He estimates that he has written something in the order of 1,500 cheques since he took over from John Griffin in 2002.  He is currently sorting out his last set of annual accounts, and hands them on in a healthy state.

Roger Hughes has looked after the distribution of Catch this in Shipham for more than ten years, making sure that as far as possible people had their copy while the print was still drying!  (That was in the days before some of you received it electronically!)  For much of the time he was also involved in printing the magazines.

In Axbridge Janet Angle has been the Sacristan, looking after the setting up of the church for Communion services for the last eight years, which involves making sure the sanctuary is spotless, the altar colours are changed regularly,  the linen is cared  for immaculately, and supplies are ordered when needed. All this has been done with great devotion, and for this we are most grateful.

At Christmas we also expressed our gratitude to Martin Latham, who retired from his post as organist and choir master after 49 years.  He certainly went out with some splendid music over the Christmas period (see page 5 of Catch this for Andy Goddard’s report).  During that time he has maintained an extraordinary level of skill and enthusiasm, producing music of a very high standard, and deeply enriching the liturgical life of Axbridge Church.  There are adverts out to invite someone to apply for this post, but in the meantime a number of very talented musicians from within the community have offered to hold the fort.

We are also very conscious that making music was just a part of what Martin has done.  Behind the scenes he has been involved in caring for the church building, making sure the heating comes on when it’s needed, overseeing the church office and a hundred and one other things!

We mark our sincere thanks to each and every one of these people.  You could be forgiven for barely noticing some of these contributions, so quietly and efficiently have they been made.  You can be sure, though, that we will notice, because it will be a bit different.  We each bring our own particular gifts to what we do, but these examples of service inspire me, and hopefully us all, to offer the very best we can.  As the Good Book says, Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters.  It is the Lord Christ you are serving.


Last Updated by AG 23 June 2019


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