Month: April 2020

Day 19 of the End to End in 2019 was also Holy Saturday, the day between Good Friday and Easter Day when we think about Jesus being in between. In 2020 in between seems to go on a long, long time.

In 2019 I was walking along more old lanes lined with trees and flowers. This was a persistent image of the walk in the west country but I never tired of it. In 2020 I walk along the lanes and paths of our part of North Derbyshire. I don’t tire of that either. The butterflies are out and keep me guessing. Added to them are a host of other insects I don’t really know: bees and perhaps bee-flies or maybe hover flies. I may have seen these views before but the blue blue sky reflected in the blue blue water is indeed beautiful. I take another breath and think of those struggling to do that now and those assisting them.

Whatever we do in life, it works best if we can give it our all. I wrote these words last year for  Holy Saturday but they are still relevant:

Every molecule,
Every cell,
Is rearranged.
Every vessel,
Every organ
Is reanimated.
Coming back
Was hard work.
As Spring pushes up
We can only imagine
What it took to burst
The gates of hell
And rise again.

So too, we can only imagine what it takes for a body to overcome a virus, a workforce to keep working, for new and creative ideas of how to assemble the resources we need to take shape. Those of us still breathing have an important part to play: be still and breathe, give it your all. Enter into what it is to be human, play your part in the universe.

(on a post box in Wiveliscombe in 2019)

From the remembered gospel:
Jesus breathed on them and said ‘Peace be with you’.

From the rising of the sun, to the going down of the same,
praise God for breath and body,
for cells and sinews,
for care and kindness,
for grace and love,
for death and new life
as we know them in our lives
and through the life of Jesus Christ our Lord,
Amen.

JAL: 20.04.2020 in Longdendale

On day 18 of the End to End, somewhere in Devon, a number of things were not very clear. It was Good Friday in 2019 and what was not very clear was what a Good Friday Fun Fair would actually be like. I made up a lot of songs on LEJOG so it seemed a good time to make up one about the crucifixion of Jesus with a fun fair theme:

Let’s have fun crucifying Jesus:
I’ll bang the nails in, you throw the dice.
Let’s have fun crucifying Jesus,
On a day like this that would be nice.

Additionally there was a disused railway route that might or might not have been a public path: I used it anyway. Somewhere along it I crossed from Devon into Somerset but that wasn’t very clear either. Eventually we emerged at Dulverton for a cream tea with some of Bob’s family. Bob claims to have put the ‘Dull in Dulverton’ in 2003 when he passed through. Anyone who knows him will know this is nonsense but it does allow all sorts of other place name games. Who, I wonder, put the Wig into Wigan or more obscurely the Sed into Sedbergh, although putting the Tea into Teabay (sic) is clearly very welcome (but much later on in the route!).

Back in 2020 now, it’s Low Sunday and plenty of people are feeling low. I wonder if we will all forget about mental health again after lock down ends or will we be brave enough to change our ways and keep it out in the open, a social priority rather than last on the list.

Friends called and described the current ministry of their church in a comfortable part of Cheshire. The ‘Private Church Users Only’ car park was now being used by visitors to the community pharmacy who needed to pick up their prescriptions and keep to social distancing. Jesus Christ is waiting, waiting in the car park…. join in if you know it!

From the remembered gospel

Jesus came in and said ‘Peace be with you’

Once you were out, Tomb Quitter, I thought you’d stay out.

But no, you were soon back in again,

showing people your wounds and passing the Peace.

We, your wounded people fear all kinds of spaces,

closed or open, far or near.

Please make things clear to us as we look out

on your locked down world.

Help us to pass the peace

into closed rooms or across car parks.

JAL 19.04.2020 in Longdendale.

A week on from Holy Saturday and we’re not out of the woods yet, and probably won’t be for some time. Here is the link to the talk I gave a week ago at the Lay Community of St Benedict, the sequel to the one I posted yesterday and about the same length. The theme is Isaiah 55, verse 1, Come to the water.

Now to return to day 17 of LEJOG. We were still in Devon and for the morning part of the walk I was joined by my friend Rosie. My mum and her mum were best friends, working as nurses in the NHS in the 1950s. We don’t see each other often, usually when we are coming by on the End to End! Gentle walking of the sort that occupied most days is delightful but you never know when you might encounter a bit of adventure peril.

I’m sure you know the sort of thing I mean. It crops up from time to time as a warning on the rating of a film or TV series. WARNING: contains scenes of mild adventure peril. Well, LEJOG is like that too. It all started with my foolish intention to bag all of the Lee’s if I could. This was down to a daft remembrance of a family of friends I know who have the surname Lee (a common one after all). I was at West Lee at this point, a farm alongside a not too busy road. Shortly afterwards, I came across Middle Lee, another farm alongside the same stretch of road.  It only took the emergence of a footpath sign to East Lee to tip me over the edge and I was off on this unplanned side adventure. To be fair, the path did cut off a small corner so it seemed a good idea at the time.

That was until I emerged into a boggy, muddy area, fed by a small spring I think, churned up by cattle, which I had to cross to get to the gate I needed to go through. It was that sort of sucky mud that will have your boots if you give into it. With the help of a few stones to step onto, a few branches to hold onto and a deep breath, I was through the mud and the gate and out onto the path again. Phew!

My heart had been racing and I calmed down as I walked through a green meadow. It’s the sort of adrenaline surge that propels you on for the few miles and probably makes you think you can traverse any boggy, muddy patch for the next 100 days. So much for mild adventure peril.

It’s not anything like the same league as the anxiety that currently stalks the world. A particularly crass set of TV interviews over the last few days has contrasted a pair of royals with a single mum in a tower block to illustrate the question: how were people coping with their mental health? It doesn’t take a genius to work out that the poor and vulnerable are going to suffer more than the rich in their castles. Nor does it take much to realise that we will all react to protect ourselves and our families, trying to build up some sort of insurance for next time, the next threat or peril there is. The origin of the word adventure is ‘a thing about to happen’, something that by change or luck might happen in the future.

But poverty is no adventure, and justice is not built by chance or luck.

From the remembered gospel
Jesus said to Peter, ‘Feed my sheep’.

Calling One, you call us onwards to build justice:
in these uncertain days we attempt to keep our heads down,
trying to avoid risk even as we see injustice exposed.
In all our adventures, may we always strive for justice
and pray your kindom come
on earth as in heaven.
Amen

JAL: 18.04.2020 in Longdendale.

You shall go out with joy, and be led forth with peace;
the mountains and the hills shall break forth before you into joy,
and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.

This was the bible text I used at the beginning of day 16 of the End to End in 2019. From Isaiah 55, it was also the text for my talk a week ago, on Good Friday, for the Lay Community of St Benedict. If you would like to see that you can find it here (it’s about 30 minutes).

A walk of 117 days was indeed a joyous thing. A short walk any day is now essential for well being in so many ways. Today, as I struggled to get going, I decided to walk to Swallows Wood, one of my favourite small woodlands in Longdendale. I was so glad I did.

Swallows Wood is the perfect place for Forest Church as it is both forest and church (the above photos is actually from 2019). I love to go there, especially in Spring, when it resounds as a bluebell cathedral. I’m a bit early this year, desperate too, but they are just coming out. The wood isn’t yet the deep blue of the full on bluebells but they are beginning to change the whole place. The silver trill of a curlew called across the adjacent moorland. Wrens and Robins hopped about and a whole host of butterflies came and went, but no other people. It was perfect.

I am grateful for the hills and the woodlands on my doorstep. I struggle to imagine how to cope without this generous gift. There are dandelions in the pavement cracks and forget-me-not by the gate: even these are singing. Where ever you are, I pray for peace and joy today.

From the remembered gospel
The women rushed back, excited, joyful, shouting ‘We have seen the Lord!’

Tomb quitter, we are excited and joyful at your Easter liberation!
We ask you to bless the inside ones with joy:
those in flats and crowded spaces,
those who have chosen to stay in and help others,
those struggling with the daily get up.
May the clapping and singing trees be heard by everyone,
and may each tiny wildlife oasis,
however small, illuminate and motivate,
that all may be lead forth in peace and joy.

 

JAL: 17.04.2020 in Swallows Wood, Longdendale.

 

 

On day 15 of the End to End I was walking through my favourite kind of countryside: lanes with hedges, woods with edges and all the beautiful wildlife found in such places. There are many sayings about LEJOG and one of the more obvious ones is ‘It’s not a sprint’ (unless you are actually sprinting it of course!).

I wasn’t sprinting but, much to my surprise, I was getting up each morning and walking 10 miles or so. That I did so for 117 days still amazes me. I’m not known for being at my best in the mornings. But LEJOG was highly motivating, fascinating and made me feel good.

Each day of this lock down I do value going outside and making my way long lanes with hedges and woods with edges and seeing all the wild life right here in Derbyshire. The Peak District National Park was designated in 1951 and the chain of reservoirs in the Longdendale valley were built in the middle of the 19th century. In the last few days I’ve seen many butterflies, including the first green hairstreaks I’ve very seen.

Dealing with this Pandemic is not a sprint either, although clearly it can be very demanding in different ways for different people. Let’s take it one step at a time. It’s taken 7 months to get my Bambi camper van on the road again, and just now we can’t go anywhere, but we’re ready when we get the chance.

From the remembered gospel
Jesus said: ‘I’m going back to Galilee, I’ll meet you there.

Met us where we are, God of all:
in favourite or challenging places,
may we make space for you,
may all life flourish.

JAL: 16.04.2020

My notes from 2019 tell me that I was slightly lost at one point on day 14 of the End to End. One of the things people do ask about the walk is ‘Did you ever get lost?’ or ‘How many times did you get lost?’ I suggest those who ask the first question have more faith in my route finding abilities than those who ask the second.

But was I lost? Had I just mistaken the route or found a different easier or better one? Was the route it self poorly signed or not clearly marked on my map? Had someone else tampered with the signs or put up a barrier? Can you see where I’m going with this?

In common with a large slice of humanity, getting lost was not my fault. If it was an error it was made by someone else, or at the very least it was a happy mistake I could readily learn from, looking back, and not repeat, going forward. Or so the common narrative of our times goes.

I find it interesting that ‘lost’ has it’s place on the negative side of our language use: we get lost when high emotions reigns: lost in anger, grief or depression, lost in loneliness and of course loss of control. We can be lost in our dreams but there’s no doubt on the whole that our social use of language works in such a way that it conveys the notion it’s better not to be lost.

Occasionally, I’d go ‘off piste’. These were often fun times; I met a bull in a farmyard having a snack, I clambered over some branches blocking a path, I’d check out a well or spring or climb something to get a better view, see a plant or flower I’d not seen before or follow a butterfly until it settled. After all I had 113 days to go and surely getting lost was all part of it.

From the remembered gospel
Afterwards, looking back, they said ‘Do you remember when he was with us on the road…’

Companion Christ, with us on the long road,
Help us face the positive and negative emotions of these days;
may we be honest when our thoughts or actions impact on others.
It can be a challenge to share empathy at a distance;
may your spirit inhabit our desire to connect with those lost in whatever life currently brings.
Bring us on with you, through the highs and lows,
to see the meadows, the high streets, the factories again,
bursting with life both expected and unexpected,
lived out in the name of Jesus.
Amen

15.04.2020 JAL in Longdendale.

Day 13 of the End to End included a lunch stop at the White Hart in Holsworthy, a small Devon market town. We stopped there because Bob had stopped there in 2003; it was one of our overlaps. In fact the whole walk included a host of overlapping points that Bob has since made into a video. If you want to see it then here is 17 minutes synopsis of pictures from 3 LEJOGs, 20003, 2012 and 2019, with narration
https://youtu.be/rcir-EjT9rw

Our walks at the moment are much shorter of course but they overlap even more. We live on the edge of the Longdendale Valley and the Transpenine Trail is very near by. The nearest section follows the line of the old Manchester to Sheffield railway via Woodhead and our plan this spring had been to discover some of the other sections of this route further from us. Bob remembers when it was running but I have only ever known it as a path, complete with fantastic views and wildlife. There are also lambs in the fields at the moment, just as there were in Devon last year..

Each day I go out I take photos of many of the same things. I see the weather change around me and the season unfold. I am very grateful to the staff and volunteers who maintain it. As I walk I walk in beauty (Navajo saying).

From the remembered gospel
They were walking along and he came alongside them…

For the companions we recognise,
The new faces we see and greet,
Those maintaining our routes, quietly and usually unseen,
For the beauty around us
We give thanks.

JAL: 14.04.2020 in Longdendale.

Day 12 of the End to End was the day I actually crossed from Cornwall into Devon. It had taken me 12 days to walk through Cornwall. These were some of the things I noted about Cornwall at the time:

A county lined with hedges deep with wild flowers;
Small strips of woodland with bluebells ready to come out very soon;
Stunning coast line and beautiful rivers;
Good stuff to eat: pasties, clotted cream;
Historic things to see as well as contemporary ones;
Friends to meet and greet.

But the more I think of it, most of the walk was like this. There were many lanes, hedges and paths and one set of flowers followed another as Spring rolled into Summer. The scenery was amazing, whether coast or hills and we came across many good things to eat and interesting things to see. It was also good to link up with friends old and new all the way up the country.

I’ve just spent the Easter weekend celebrating the Triduum with the Lay Community of St Benedict, something that was very new to me the first time I took part 4 years ago. This time it was a different experience as we were on zoom but the old and new blended well together.

Now it is the quiet week post Easter which we often took as our holiday when we were working.  My present phase of ministry is very different from those days. A lot of it is through writing or on line or by phone. Days are quiet in our small house and the Longdendale  valley which begins just over the road. Any change in situation takes adjustment, whether it was a welcome change or not.  Something new is happening and it will take time to feel confident again amidst such changes.

From the remembered gospel
When they arrived at the house in Emmaus, Jesus made as if to go on…

Walk companion,
Prophet explainer,
Supper sharer,
Bread breaker,
may we also go on in your company.

JAL: 13.04.2020 in Longdendale.

 

All the way from Land’s End to John O’Groats I was looking for signs. I had a paper map, and an app on my phone but I always preferred the signs in the landscape, the physical confirmation that I was where I thought I was. So there are a lot of photos of signposts old and new, milestones worn and dirty, footpath signs, road signs, canal signs, bridge numbers, anything at all that could chart my progress and direction. On day 11 this was as true as any other day as I approached the border between Cornwall and Devon.

I’m still looking for signs. Each spring I look for the signs of life coming back to the land: a frog yesterday hopping across my path (why don’t we had a culture of the Easter frog: they hop too!).

In my experience it takes a lot longer than three days to come back. I am coming back and I can see the signs but it didn’t happen overnight. I repeated my story of anger and loss a lot. I stamped it down and it burst out again and again. I took one step forward and several back. I walked the End to End and came home. And gradually, very slowly, I moved on, understood things differently, made new tracks.

I was reading a book about two thousand years of women’s leadership in the Christian Church recently. It was a bit like Daughters of Dissent (other books of women’s history are available) but on a wider canvas. I knew some of the stories but not all of them. The book had many threads of pain and suffering, of courage and resilience and also of joy and celebration. I was intrigued by those women who had ‘set up their own churches’. I put it in inverted commas because the wording is interesting. When is it Christ’s Church and when is it  our own church? Well obviously it’s not Christ’s Church is it’s set up by women, is the implication. Only, it was women first told the story of the resurrection: the whole church was ‘set up by women’.

The Mobile Chapel of St Scholastica is still in the garage, but a lockdown is not a good time to wander around in a van. For the time being, I look out of my window and look for the signs.

From the remembered gospel
Mary said ‘I have seen the Lord’…

For the signs around us, death on life, life on death;
For the signs within us, death on life, life on death;
For the signs in community, death on life, life on death;
For the Holy and Wonderous Three, leaving signs for us to follow,
signs to soothe us, signs to excite us;
For the gospel of hope, planted in us and in our world,
flowering now for all to see:
Alleluia!

JAL: 12.04.2020 in Longdendale.

On Day 10 of the End to End I crossed part of Bodmin Moor. It’s not unusual for us to describe such landscapes as empty, meaning that there isn’t much sign of human occupation. But to describe this moorland as empty would be a mistake on several counts. Firstly there are many signs of human occupation going back centuries: the Hurlers stone circle was put there by our stone heaving prehistoric ancestors. Then there’s the stone crosses again, further evidence of human’s marking the landscape as significant. Coming up to date there are small farms and hamlets, old engine houses and the line of an old railway as well as the livestock that roams the moorland; sheep and cattle as well as ponies. At Minions there’s a tea shop: it’s rude not to go in. It was quite empty. We were the only customers but there were plenty of other signs of activity: cakes waiting to be bought, tables waiting to be occupied.

Everyone of the 117 days of the End to End, I was never in a place that was truly empty. But even so, we can have a feeling of emptiness even if we are surrounded by people. Some folks sadly said, my love one died of coronavirus alone, when they were surrounded by the love and care of NHS staff (I heard moving testimony of this closeness from some NHS staff through our Lay Community of St Benedict this morning). What they meant was they weren’t there and they had an understandable empty feeling, of course.

Emptiness is a thing we try to avoid. It’s uncomfortable. It can be heavy. It can drag us down. It can hurt. So why go there?

I read a story on Twitter about a child who said that the first thing he thought Jesus would do in Hell was look for his friend Judas and get him out of there.

I think the only explanation for going to an empty place would be for the love of someone else. So if you are feeling empty right now, could it be because of that?

From the remembered gospel
They put his body in the tomb….

Body-wise One, ready to go there for us,
to the uttermost emptiness,
we are touched by your generosity.
We pray for the generous ones in these virus filled days;
generous enough to be alongside the sick and dying,
the anxious and the grief stricken ones.
When we speak of heroes,
it’s not cheap metaphors we are looking for,
but the costly self giving love of one for another.
You know the places, you’ve shared the feeling:
Lord have mercy.

JAL: 11.04.2020 in Longdendale.