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Every year for a week in August Edigton Priory Church holds a festival of music within the liturgy and this is the week.

Last night I went with my mother to Solemn Evensong followed by Compline and it was wonderful. I’m not someone who could be described as high church but this week is a time when I can experience the whole cathedral type worship and I thoroughly enjoy it, including incense.

The singing is provided by three different groups, all the singers come from various cathedrals and colleges (about 60 in total), and this is probably the only time they sing together. The organists are also from these establishments with clergy from various places supporting the local clergy. Last night’s settings for the evensong music were by Charles Wood and the anthem by Brahms with Mendelssohn for the organ music at the beginning and end. Compline was in candlelight.

At the end we came out to a full moon shining in a clear sky – neither my mother nor I could find words to express what we were feeling other than to say that we felt a peacefulness.

If you can’t get to Edington this week (see their website www.edingtonfestival.org for the list of services – usually three a day) you can hear them live on BBC Radio 3 on Wednesday 25 August at 4.00pm.

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!

Every now and then a theme emerges over a weekend, and this particular weekend it has been crossing over!   We started off by going over to move our eldest daughter from her existing flat to her new flat in the boarding school where she teaches.  It was not far, in fact it was the flat next door, but unfortunately we had to go down two flights of stairs, and along a corridor and then up another two flights of stairs!  It was a great workout, and after a few hours, Hollie was settling into her new abode.  What struck me most as we moved from one flat to the other, was a sense of knowing when we were over half way in shifting the boxes.  There came a point as we stopped to rest or partake of a cup of tea, when we actually stopped using the old flat, and started using the new – and I don’t think it was anything to do with moving the kettle!!

Then this morning, I started reading the next book on the pile I keep in my study, and I found it was a book called Sum: Forty tales from the afterlives.  It is a fascinating book, given in cases short stories from authors who have speculated, or perhaps fantasised about what happens following our death.  I’ve just read the first ten or so, and it will be interesting to see what other people make of crossing over.

The third aspect of this theme occurred when I was taking a few minutes to catch up on some zzz, and catch a few rays in the garden.  We have a lovely garden, and enjoy every square inch, and of course the river.  One of the given factors though, is that we lie under a flight path from the airfield at Old Sarum, and every few minutes a light aircraft, or microlight, or helicopter makes its progress across the sky.  I don’t mind actually, and it is a fantasy of mine to fly, or even learn to fly in a small aircraft.  Today, one of the men [or women] in their flying machines was performing aerobatics, and I was imagining the amount of G-force that the pilot must have been pulling in the stunts, as s/he crissed and crossed through the sky.  Lovely, and lucky for them.

Angels with Dirty Faces was a seminal gangster film of the 1930’s, starring James Cagney. I have been recollecting this film as we approach the feast of St Michael and All Angels on 29^th September, commonly known as Michaelmas. In our culture, angels have become popular among authors exploring various forms of spirituality. Because angels occur in the traditions of many religions, they are assumed to be spiritual beings who don’t tie us down to one faith. What appears really important is that they are spiritual not fleshly beings and that they watch over us.

I have a high view of angels. I think that for about five minutes in 1960 my grandmother said I was one. Her view was quickly revised. My principal delight in angels is that we know from Scripture that they are made for worship: they gather in myriads of forms before God’s throne and their reason for being and their only delight is to worship and adore. ‘Glory’ and ‘Hosanna’ are their favourite words as they sing God’s praise. This is our chief association with angels, because we are made for worship, too. The angels know this and they carry their worship to earth not to the great and the good but to shepherds grubby with toil and to tell them that the throne of God has come to earth and is now a manger in Bethlehem for the Messiah has born for us. There can be no allergic reaction to angels feathers, as they fill the empty spaces in our churches praying with us and longing with us that those spaces will be filled with worshippers with flesh, human disciples whom we are seeking to win for Christ.

Jesus refers to the guardian angels who watch over children. It is a happy and reassuring thought that we are all watched over. We all need to know that unconditional love which comes from God. Yet the angel is only a sign or pointer at best. The true guardianship comes not from some independent spiritual creature. The angel has no life except the pure life of God. It is his love which guards and protects us and it is to God’s protection that we commit people in our prayers. Michael the great Archangel is often depicted as a heavenly warrior, defeating Lucifer and all his great army. We are also those who then stand for what is right and good and beautiful even when it is inconvenient or dangerous to do so – not in our own strength but in the power and love of God alone.

The angel Gabriel came to Mary of Nazareth with a message straight from God, with his invitation to be his handmaid in changing the universe forever. His message was the agency of her transformation. We know that the mission to the world is Christ’s, but we are his messengers of transformation and redemption. Let us be angels with dirty faces for Christ’s sake.

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.

Today my sermon was on Martha and Mary, the fact that they create a whole – doing and being – which we as disciples ought to consider. There is a place for both types of activity and we ought to find the right balance which may well be different for each of us and, unlike Martha, we ought not to complain when others don’t seem to be pulling their weight.

On the way home it occurred to me that I ought to practice what I preach – I need to find the time to be and do – so I start this blog entry with an apology to Alan who has certainly been Martha and I have been Mary, he has very generously not reminded me that it has been a long time since I blogged.

I did think of doing it when we were on Pilgrimage in the Pewsey Team but I couldn’t get on line where I was staying and I didn’t think of other ways I could do it. Then I thought that I would do a retrospect blog but time went by. Then there was my retreat (brilliant with woodpecker and rabbit joining me on various occasions) and the ordinations in the Cathedral where I had the privilege of laying my hands on two people (thank you Ann and Jenny). Again time went by and it seemed to late to do anything. So this blog is also a big thank you to all those who have cared for me, invited me to events, been with me in various meetings and have been generous hosts.

During  the coming week I will blogging most of  my morning thoughts for BBC Radio, the idea came from driving around this wonderful countryside in which we live. I hope to continue to find the time to be and contribute to the blog as part of that being time.

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.

A recent lunch with one of our colleagues from the Diocesan Board of Education led to a very interesting conversation around the relationships between our church schools and our parishes. 

For many years, new clergy appointments to a parish would not even include a visit to the school, let alone ask the Head Teacher or Chair of Governors to be part of the interview process.  Now, of course, the Parish Profile for the new priest will include details of schools, and the interview process most often includes a visit to the school, some interface with the staff and pupils, and some informal interview with the school Head or Governors.

Our conversation came around to the appointment of school chaplains, in particular to the new Academies.  Full time school chaplains are a luxury, and indeed, with a decreasing number of stipendiary clergy, would there be a sufficient pool of potential clergy to meet these new appointments?  I pushed the boundaries a little further.  I was certain that these school chaplain appointments could not successfully be part time appointments with dual roles including a parish priest role – the management of the boundaries does prove a challenge.  I had been a part-time chaplain to a joint Anglican-Catholic Secondary School, and it was hugely fulfilling, but also a huge frustration, and the scope for developing the role could not happen whilst I was still expected to be in the parish five days a week.

So – do we need to continue to look for parish clergy who are able to offer some chaplaincy role to the school?  Or, if you consider the development of our school age children between 5-18 years to be the urgent priority for our faith community, do we need to look for clergy who are full time school chaplains, based in our primary and secondary schools, who can offer a couple of  days a week to be chaplains to our congregations? 

What difference would it make if we trained all our clergy to be school chaplains, as the norm, and then let them use their spare time at evenings, weekends and school holidays for work in the parish, developing teams of lay ministers and ordained assistant ministers to be the church presence throughout the parish during the day?

What difference would it make …?  Where do you stand …?

This Petertide, we celebrate lots of new ministries.  You’ll have read about my 20th anniversary.  Straight after our delicious lunch in Poole, I scuttled back to Salisbury to attend the licensing of around 25 new lay workers, who in just three months time will be ordained deacon in Salisbury Cathedral.  We license them as lay workers [and pay those who are stipendiary too!] in order for them to learn about the people and places, the liturgy and the locale, before they are launched into public and professional ministry.

Last Sunday the licensing took place in Bishop David’s garden at South Canonry.  They are such fun, with a relaxed and informal atmosphere, tea and cakes, and a really good piece of teaching  from the Bishop.  Sitting upon a garden swing hung below a huge tree, which offered both shade and a cathedral type roof over our heads, the Bishop explained the shaping of the day for ministers by using the passages from Luke which bind us into the incarnation.  The Benedictus [Luke 1:68-79] for morning prayer – with John the Baptist’s father Zechariah extolling how the world will be  impacted by the coming of the Messiah; the Angelus [Luke 1:28, Luke 1:42] at midday – with Mary saying “Yes” to the invitation of the angel to bear the Christ into our world; the Magnificat [Luke 1:46-55] at evening prayer – with Mary’s song predicting how the Messiah will turn the world’s values upside down as the coming Kingdom changes our lives; and finally the Nunc Dimittus [Luke 2:29-32] at night prayer – reminding us that we will have seen God at work in the world, and now we rest in his peace and security as we await  the new dawn.

An inspiring afternoon, and thank you Bishop David for all you’ve given candidates for ordination for the past 17 years.

We’ve been so busy, busy, busy, being happy clergy with good ministry opportunities that I’ve not had the time to blog – but some interesting blogs are to be posted in the coming days.  This week I have celebrated being a priest for 20 years.  We normally don;t need much excuse for a party in our world, and on that basis I asked the Rector of St Peter’s Parkstone, in Poole, if I could come back to the church where it all happened to celebrate.  I was pleased to be asked to preach, and my wife and younger daughter accompanied me last Sunday.

It is always slightly odd going back to places where significant things have occurred – a real cocktail of emotions.  I had four challenging and very fruitful years in Parkstone – with some great colleagues, opportunities for some cutting edge ministry, as well as learning all the necessary parish activities and management – I always think back and thank God for all that I was given in those important first years.  But the people of Parkstone were just lovely, as many familiar faces hove into view, and reassuringly, some new faces too.  The service was a delight, well taken, and dignified use of incense, a great choir, and lovely cake and coffee afterwards.  They presented me with a card and bottle of something to drink, and then we retired to some friends’ garden for a delicious lunch.  Thanks to you all for a great day of memories and celebrations.