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This month’s collection of Parish Magazines have tumbled through my letterbox, and once again, I’m impressed with the tales of mission and ministry that happens in some many creative ways, in so many places.  This month’s good practice is as follows:

St Bartholomew Benefice: The parishes are organising some away time together, to build confidence, to get to know one another, and generally have a good time with their Christian faith.  A sailing trip to France, over the weekend of 30 September to 3 October.  If the seas doesn’t float your boat, the a trip to the Holy Land is being contemplated for 2011.  A new monthly Sunday initiative called TOAST [Time on a Sunday together] kicks off with breakfast in the School Hall at Semley, with an informal, child and family friendly expression of church.  taste and see that the Lord is good!

Arrowhead, for the parishes on Salisbury Plain, is always a good read, and a mix of community, adverts, and church activities get a blitz in the editor’s blender.  I was impressed by the Shrewton School’s Party in the Park event; the Annual Orcheston Weekend, including tractor rides and target shooting; and the Re-Cycling page, which give people the opportunity of getting rid of, or requesting various items.

Steeple and Street, for Whiteparish in the Clarendon Team, offered some great summer fun in the Parish Picnic with food and games; a May Ball for the Pepperbox Pre-school; and the Whiteparish Pony Show, with collaboration with the local riding school.  They’ve also organised a Whiteparish tidy up day, to give the whole community a chance to contribute to making their village the tidiest in the area.

Focus – on the Community is the mag for the Nadder Valley Team, and included some local articles on the Neighbourhood Policing Team’s new Community Beat Manager, and also a report from the Tisbury Watch of the Wiltshire Fire and Rescue Service, including a really helpful guide to the role and responsibilities of a retained firefighter – essential for the rural communities.

The Open Door, the mag for St Thomas’ Ensbury Park contains a helpful page of prayers; advertises a parish visit to the Theatre in Christchurch to see “The Screwtape Letters”; some book reviews; and a great puzzles and smiles page, alongside the usual news and views of the parish church and wider community.

Thank you to all those who send me their magazines, and I look forward to receiving others too.

Yes, today was the day that the Parish of Wilton with Fugglestone, and Netherhampton, and the Parish of Bemerton united to provide a connection that took us back to the George Herbert days.  I’m also reading the book entitled, If you see George Herbert on the Road, Kill Him! This aims to make it clear that the idealising of the GH methodology of ministry does nothing to help the contemporary parish priest, whose circumstances are very different indeed than the blessed George’s.

We started at St Peter’s Church Fugglestone, and enjoyed a 20 min talk by The Rev’d Dr John Gosling, sometime former Vicar of Stratford sub Castle, and Director of Continuing Ministerial Development for the diocese. John outlined the history of the church building and its immediate surroundings.  John reminded us that in fact Fugglestone ws the parish church in GH’s day, with Bemerton being the chapel of ease, and later church building.  It is really because Herbert lived in Bemerton, and was buried in the church there that the Bemerton tag seems to have carried more weight.  We then moved out of church and walked around to the main gate of Wilton House, where the Earl had kindly given permission for us to walk though the park and then out onto the Netherhampton Road, before walking through Quidhampton, and onto St John’s Church Bemerton where people stopped for some much appreciated tea and cake.  The group then walked a little further onto St Andrew’s Church in Bemerton, and a service of Evensong completed the journey.  At a couple of stops along our pilgrimage, the Rector of Wilton, Rev Mark Wood read to us from Herbert’s treasury of poetry.

We learned a great deal from our conversations, mostly speculating about the Saxon meanings of our travel route.  Fugglestone apparently mean Mr Bird’s Farm – from Fogel’s Ton, and Quidhampton means something like rubbish dump [don't tell the residents!] from the word quid [filthy]  We can’t be sure of course, but it made for some interesting thoughts as we walked.  The group of 35 or so, seemed to really enjoy each other’s company, and the walk offered some great view points, rarely seen, together with a perfect walking afternoon, with hazy sunshine and temperate breezes.  Perfect!

An invitation from the Team Vicar in the Nadder Valley Team Ministry, west of Salisbury, brought me to St Editha’s Church in Baverstock this evening.  It was a perfect evening for Evensong, with the setting sun pouring its glory through the west window.  Great hymns including Thy hand O Lord has guided, and Cranmer’s Prayer Book well rehearsed by Jane.  I preached to an appreciative congregation, which included a young Italian Roman Catholic who is here for a month learning English for her Fine Art profession. 

My sermon included what I had discovered about St Editha, and a reflection on the readings which were taken from Genesis’ story of Abraham and Sarah and their hospitality towards the three persons of God; and the passage from Luke where Mary and Martha entertained Jesus.  I concluded by saying:

The call from Jesus to Editha that guided and shaped her whole life, is still the same call that is made to us here today.  A call to bring people together in community whenever we can, to live our lives in a generous and hospitable way, making sure those less well off are offered what they need to have a reasonable standard of living.  To celebrate and give thanks and praise to God for all that is achieved in his name.

 Today we remember Sarah, and Mary and Martha, and Editha—not because they were women, not because they had special gifts and skills, not because they found themselves in the public eye of their day—but simply because they said Yes.  They said Yes, when God invited them to share in living his life, and their lives were changed for the better because of that.

 Celebrate your festival day, and hear the call of Jesus Christ to you this day, and see if in your heart and mind, you might follow Editha, you patron saint, and join her in saying Yes.

 After we had said farewell to the congregation I walked down the path towards the church gate, and looked across at the cluster of graves to the west.  One caught my eye, and on closer inspection it was the family graves of the Venerable Willian Hony, Rector of Baverstock, and Archdeacon of Sarum.  As one of my predecessors I took some interest in him, and have found some details on the parish website:

Early in the 19th century a new rectory was built on the opposite side of the road to the church. It was an imposing Regency residence and replaced the old rectory beside the church which had been burnt down in 1796. It had rarely been home to the Baverstock clergy, who were in the most part absentee rectors. One of the most memorable of the Baverstock rectors was William Hony. He became rector in 1827 and remained until he died in 1875. He additionally became Archdeacon of Sarum in 1847. He made considerable changes to Baverstock during his incumbency. His first task was the dilapidated church. He replaced nearly everything except the walls and these he raised. The parishioners contributed £100 towards the cost, the rector paying the remainder. His next project was to build a school for the children of Baverstock. This was built next door to the church on the site of the old Rectory. Later in the 19th century the children were transferred to a new school at Dinton. The Baverstock school became first a Sunday school and eventually a private house and remains so today.

 Those were the days, and clearly Baverstock has some impressive servants who have offered themselves to Christian witness and I pray that the present day residents might continue in that tradition, as they offer welcome and hospitality to all.

This month’s interest in parish magazines comes from deepest darkest West Dorset.  The Chalk Stream magazine covers the parishes of Bradford Peverell, Frampton, Stratton, and Sydling St Nicholas.  I was visiting a colleague recently down there who is working in areas of mission and vocation, and it was good to stretch the legs of my 120d.  By the way, if you are ever down that way, the pub at Sydling St Nicholas, the Greyhound, was quiet exceptional, with a good lunchtime menu choice, and excellent food. 

The Chalk Stream [which has a bumper issue for July and August of some 58 pages of news, views and advertisements] offers some interest in the local Dorset bread roll, called the Dorset Knob, produced by Moores the famous family firm.  Each year there is The  “Dorset Knob Throwing and Frome Valley Food Fest”  held at Cattistock on Sunday 2^rdMay 2010. Besides Knob Throwing there were additional fun knob attractions including Knob Painting, a Knob & Spoon Race, Guess the weight of the Big Knob, Knob Darts and a Knob Pyramid. Free parking and other more traditional entertainment were laid on to make this a really enjoyable day out with a difference.  It sounds a fascinating and truly novel local event, and some £4,500 was raised for local community clubs.  The record for throwing these delicious bread rolls, under arm and standing are quite amazing with the three records currently:  Gents:  26.10 metres; Ladies: 20.2 metres; and Under 12’s; 18.5 metres.  Why not tell me about your local novel sporting or social events?

Another article that grabbed my attention was about Lip Reading.  1 in 7 people have hearing impairment, and many result from time with the armed forces or disco customers, with the outcome being a distinct difficulty in hearing consonants clearly – an example being “biscuit” being heard as “big kiss”. A tutor holds classes every Tuesday morning for two hours, in a local parish church centre, where people learn not only how to interpret lip shapes, but also strategies for minimising a sense of exclusion as hearing loss progresses.

How wonderful to have a local resource like this.  Other local events this month included the Evershot Butterfly and Moth Festival; and thoughtful articles included From the Allotment; Bradford Peverell Twinning Association; and many more.  Useful ideas can be found on their webpages: http://www.sydlingstnicholas.org.uk/; http://www.framptondorset.com/; http://www.strattondorset.org/; and http://www.thelocalchannel.co.uk/bradfordpeverell/home.aspx

Each year for the past three or four years, Anita and I get an invitation to attend the Chitterne Flower festival, and it is an event we always enjoy attending.  This year was no exception, and the arrangements of flowers, with the theme “Quote: Unquote” were really breathtaking.  I can’t remember all the connections between the quotes and the arrangements, but this one was “A Rose Between Two Thorns”, and just enjoy the others!

The food served in the Village Hall next door to the church was delicious, and at one moment in the afternoon, I think we could have convened a meeting of the Stonehenge Deanery Synod!  We had the Lay Chairman, four clergy and the Archdeacon!  We avoided that temptation by sitting and tucking into our scoff.

later in the day we returned to the church, and as I am prone to do, starting chatting to the visitors admiring the arrangements.  One of the gents sitting quietly at the back of the church, engaged in conversation with me, and I asked him about the Veteran’s badge he was wearing.  Of course, as an old soldier he was quite happy to tell me all about his regiment, and the places that he served.  He carried on to tell me about some of the Chaplains that he served with as well. 

We were able to chat easily, and after a while, as old soldiers do, he picked up on something that had been troubling him for a long time, but he claimed that no padre had been  able to sort for him.  I’m quite used to being challenged by military personnel, and often I can’t offer the answer someone is looking for – but I try to share the dilemma, and encourage the person to keep searching and to trust in God for truth.

With all that he had witnessed, how could he believe in a God who allows good people to suffer.  I said that I could not answer that for him, but I have often asked myself that  question, and for myself, I came to the conclusion – how do we know that we are loved? 

When my children asked me, Daddy, do you love me?, and I answered Yes, of course I love you, they would follow up with, How do we know that you love us?  I replied, Because I will always try be here for you; when the life you lead is good, you’ll not need to ask me that question, but I will still love you.  When the life you lead is tough, you will not need to ask if I love you, because I will be there for you, and I will do anything I can to make the pain and the hurt, [which we all suffer, all of us]; I will do anything I can to make that pain and hurt more bearable.  How will you will know that I love you? Because the pain you are suffering, however it is caused, allows me to show you how much I love you.

The old soldier smiled, and nodded his head, said thank you, and walked away to give his wife a warm, long  and lingering hug.  And we said it with Flowers.

It is the season for Summer fetes, and John and I recently  attended a village occasion.  It was a lovely day, and John did the decent thing by opening the event, and people thronged and spent loose change and chatted and ate cream teas and smashed crockery, and looked at exhibition photos in the church.  Numbers are up, a local worthy told me, and hopefully the income which the church needs will be too.

Then we had the finale, a tug of war, and yours truly was to start the event and present the trophy to the winning team.  It’s only a bit of fun, they said! A novel twist was that this tug of war took place across a river, and the losing team were guaranteed an early bath!  First of all the children had a go, on dry land, in the neighbouring field, and enjoyed it very much.  Then the men – two teams of strapping, well honed, peak of physical perfection – lined up on both banks.  Can you count?  Nine on one side, eight on the other – Hey! The rope was duly picked up, and the strain taken.  Pull!  A load of grunting and cheering ended when one team found themselves pulled into the River Avon.  Then the ladies teams had a go, and did equally well.  Then men swapped sides, after sorting out the equal numbers a second time, the other team claimed a victory, one-all, and a deciding match.  The ladies played their second pull, and the same team won.

So – the  deciding pull for the men’s competition, and I gripped the trophy as the grunts and groans and battle cries rang out across the valley.  Some slippage, but then a rally, and both teams were giving no ground, but after a while the heat, the pressure and the sheer effort pulled one of the teams into the water. Foul! went up from the losing team!  Apparently one man on the winning team had found a foothold in the root system of a tree on the river bank, and this was claimed as an unfair advantage by the other team.

I was still holding the trophy, and the organisers and team captains remonstrated with one another.  As the person holding the trophy, I went and suggested I had some ideas – a final deciding pull – with both teams in the field, on the level, where we could see all that was taking place.  No – the “winning ” team could not agree to that, and my second suggestion that the trophy should stand in the club rooms for six months each, also found little grace – and the team captains walked off. 

I will still holding the trophy!  Should it come home with me?  No.  I walked across to the team captain of the winning ladies team, announced that these were the overall champions, planted the trophy in her hands, and a kiss on both cheeks, and declared honour still alive in the competition.  I hope the  English referee in the World Cup Final this afternoon has a little more fortune.  They never told you about this in Theological College!

Well the last day dawned for the band of happy pilgrims, and the Team scattered ourselves throughout the parishes for Sunday worship in the morning.  I was detailed to go to East Grafton Church, St Nicholas, another first for me.  It is the most enchanting church, a little miniature copy of St Mary and Nicholas, Wilton, as you can see from the photo. 

I preached, and Rodney Harrison – the Team Vicar presided at a Common Worship service.  It was good to see people from the area there, and I was starting to catch names and faces that I’ve been encountering during the week.  In fact I preached on the subject of encounter, and that when we encounter Jesus, then he joins us on our journey, and then he changes us, and we join him on his journey – or at least I think I said something like that!

After bidding farewell at the door, I took myself over to Chute Causeway, and joined John and Rachel at the Tedworth Downland Ride and BBQ.  There were loads of horses, riders, and happy watchers, as the competitors took themselves along a ten mile fun ride course, and enjoyed the most beautiful scenery.  We stayed behind of course, and chatted and ate, and enjoyed the atmosphere of country people, enjoying country rides.  I was fortunate to gain a seat on a horse, and I think Rachel has some photos.  I used to ride around my country parishes, and it was so nice to be back in the saddle.  I enjoyed myself very much, and will certainly try and get a ride or two from time to time, and in honour of this, I was presented with a bright green rosette – which later confused people who thought I was a green party candidate!  I was certainly hungry, and we consumed, I think between us, one of everything from the BBQ and bar!

Moving on, we team went our separate ways, me to my host and hostess to pack up, say a huge thank you for the marvellous hospitality and generous giving of time and accommodation for this past week.  People are so open and welcoming to pilgrims I find.

Finally, we all gathered at the Crofton Beam Engine site for our closing act of worship – a Songs of Praise, and celebration of our week, with the reading of the winning entries in the poetry competition.  Music was provided by the Phoenix Brass Band, and Rodney compered the worship.  Bishop Stephen gave the final blessing, and as we shared the Peace, the heavens opened and were blessed by a heavy shower which encouraged people to continue their own pilgrimage journey. 

This is not the end of a week’s pilgrimage, but merely the start of another stage of a journey in the parishes and communities that make up the Pewsey Deanery.  Thanks to you all, and may God bless you, and may Jesus be your constant companion and guide, and may the Holy Spirit empower and direct you to serve him, and those with whom you share your lives.

A good walk deserves to be followed by a good sit down – and what better way to enjoy a stunning sunset and evening, than in the company of a church full of concert goers, who gathered at Tidcombe church, to hear a wonderful concert by the Sarum Voices.  It was my first visit to Tidcombe, and to be honest, after I had put my head down after the walk for 40 winks, I had not allowed time for finding the place, and then parking, but as the first piece was introduced, I crept into a bench in a side aisle. 

There was some stunning vocal performances by this talented group of five singers, conducted by Ben Lamb, a former chorister from the Cathedral. [I think I was training at the theological college when he was singing soprano!] and a sublime performance was followed by a drinks reception on the front lawn of Tidcombe Manor.  What a great way to end a great day!  Check out the choir on http://www.sarumvoices.co.uk/choir.htm

Fortified by our cooked breakfast and early morning climb, John and I went over to Great Bedwyn Church where we had some coffee and biscuits [there will be a theme emerging - just you wait] and an amazing collection of photographs were available within the church.  Some thousands of photos were shot by the residents in the run up to Millennium year, and these are now carefully catalogued and available for memories and as a snapshot of the village caught in time.

The walk planned for this stage of the pilgrimage was a triangular route from Gt Bedwyn, to St Katherines’ Savernake, and lunch, and then on to Little Bedwyn, via the ancient chapel of ease at St Martin’s Chisbury, now in the care of English Heritage’ and onto Little Bedwyn, for  tea, and back along the canal to Gt Bedwyn.  It was perfect walking weather, and the conversations, the food and the fine stretch of our legs made for a really good day out.  The photos will speak for themselves – a mix from my own camera, and those from the Unite FC website:

Friday morning – it was 0700, and around 25 men gathered at the foot of Martinsell hill near Wootton Rivers.  Various bits of kitchen kit were unloaded from vehicles and soon we were walking up the hill.  It was a glorious morning, and great views across the Pewsey Vale.  Soon the smell of bacon and sausages was drifting through our conversations, and then tomatoes too were sizzling in the pan.  Baps were filled and hungrily consumed, merely causing the conversations to become drawn out, rather the ceasing.  Well fed, and orange juice, coffee and teas washed down, we sat on rugs or chairs and listened to an inspiring talk from Bishop Stephen about encountering the risen Jesus in our daily lives.  We ended with some helpful prayer. At 0830, a scampering from the working men back down the hill and into their workplaces indicated that it was time for us to pack up and clear off.  A great start to the day; good companions and thoughts for the road.