saints – Notes from Bambi

Benedict’s Raven

Dear Benedict,

I hear that you knew a friendly raven. Various saints are linked to animals: there’s St Cuthbert and his otters and St Oswald is also linked with a raven. In Wales, St Melangell is the patron saint of hares. I’m sure there are many others though I’m not familiar with which saint is linked to the Lesser Stag Beetle, the Gannet or the slow worm. I did once know a child who was very fond of slow worms so perhaps it’s him.

It’s interesting that we link holy people to animals in the wild and then promptly forget about them ourselves until it’s time to print another Countryfile Calendar or we see another bit of road kill. Some of us feed birds or count butterflies but it is our general disengagement with the natural world that contributes to our climate crisis. We have forgotten, in our rush to make as much money out of it as possible, that we share the planet.

You never mention the raven in your Rule. Probably it was one of those tales that got expanded later. The faithful raven and the humble monk make a good story, although I can imagine that you had much wild company when you were hermiting. I saw a young jackdaw in the valley recently, but I’m not very good at identifying corvids, except for the raucous magpie in the blue-black and white suit. There are quite a few of those.

My favourite avian companions are the geese that make their calls in the morning and evening, on the way out or on the way home, commuting up and down the valley. Unfortunately, the avian ‘flu virus has been seen in the valley again this year, especially amongst gulls.

If I was going to add a chapter to your Rule it might be one about recognising the holy space all around us. About how the creatures that also occupy it are holy too as is every species of plant, fungus and bacterium. Some people point to parasitic wasps as proof against God but there’s no need to do so. They all have their own beauty and honouring the place of each one doesn’t mean we have to behave like parasites. It’s only 40,000 years since the earliest painter of Indonesia drew a pig on a cave wall. How long before there are no pigs to draw.

We have forgotten our first vocation, to name and care for our companion earth-dwellers. We need to remember before we all fall asleep on the job and there are no ravens left to guard us.

Lesser stag beetle on the Meridian Way at Greenwich

From the remembered gospel: God does not even forget the sparrows.

May the Creator of slow worms bless you;

May Christ, the counter of sparrows accompany you;

May the Spirit of the wholly connected mycelium bring you together,

That together we may grow in wisdom and understanding and know that all things count.

A Friend of Scholastica in Longdendale, 20.08.2023

Pilgrim

Dear Benedict: One thing that has characterised this phase of my life is being on the move. I keep walking, even if it may not be as much as in 2019, when I completed the End to End. Each day includes, where possible, the little end to end. To embark on pilgrimage, first go up the High Street as if it’s sacred ground: the butcher’s is closed, the baker get’s up at 3 am, they still sell candles in a couple of shops. In a holy valley like Longdendale, what ever the weather, something is trickling down one gulley or another, from the top reservoir to the bottom. But here like other places in England, there’s a partial drought and the behaviour of reservoirs is not a good image for how to treat real people when it comes to economics.

This week has been another of my roving weeks. When on the move I take a few things with me: my phone stands in for many things, but also a paper map for backup, and my remembered bible and remembered rule. Days away from home are different from days at home. Here I’m sat down writing. There I’m on the move, observing and reflecting. A balance between these is my current pilgrim life.

My adventures took me to Angelsey, Yns Mon, across the Menai Bridge where only bicycles can overtake bicycles. I visited four small churches on the island, sometimes on islands next to the island. These probably all began life as hermit cells and are not often used today, though each is still a part of a local group of churches.

St Tysilio’s Church on church Island, Menai.

St Tysilio’s near Menai Bridge is on Church Island which is joined to the main island by causeway. Lit by candlelight, an open door explained that it was founded in 630AD. These are churches of the Celtic version of the faith that was circulating in the West well before Augustine, a Benedictine, turned up in Canterbury (597AD). Simple, less heirarchical and misinformed (according to Rome) about the date of Easter, these small hermitages have been visited by local people for centuries. The early Celtic saints were often on the move and Tysilio is said to have died in Brittany, where the great western seaway took him.

The Church in the Sea is also linked by a causeway to the main island, but is only accessible at low tide, the journey made over a trail of rocks.

St Cwyfan’s Church in the Sea, near Aberffraw

A simple building, services are still held during the summer. Through the window I could see the font surrounded by sea shells, sign of the pilgrim’s baptismal vows renewed.

Sea shells surround the font at the Church in the Sea.

Lligwy Chapel, built in the 12th century, is now a ruin, its community having moved away. There’s no note of it being dedicated to any saint, but all saints came here and in the 16th century at least some were buried here. It stands within a circle of boulders in a meadow not far from an ancient settlement that dates to the Roman occupation and a Neolithic burial mound, all of which indicates this ground has been considered holy since at least 2,500 BC.

The final one of the four is dedicated to St Seiriol and is a small well chamber alongside the ruins of the Augustinian Abbey at Penmon, proof that one St Augustine did finally catch up with the inhabitants of Angelsey. But it was the other St Augustine, this time from Hippo who’s writings date to about 400 AD. St Seiriol is remembered as one of the early Welsh Fathers, and his occupation of the site dates to the 6th century.

The Penmon cross now housed in the Abbey, 9th century, is incised with simple Celtic patterns.

I’ll end my pilgrimage at St Seiriol’s Well, which is behind the Abbey. This well probably has, like most holy wells in Wales, pre Christian origins. Wells have been sites of pilgrimage for generations and the water here still runs clear.

I love to visit the homes of the saints, ancient and modern. Each spot reminds me that at sometime someone else sat here and prayed. I join in the timeless action.

From my remembered bible: The swallow makes its nest near your altar.

Note that swallows are migratory birds even now leaving Britain until next spring.

May my prayer migrate as I pray for the migrating ones, all who are travelling beyond borders.

From A Friend of Scholastica and a Member of the Lay Community of St Benedict.

Janet Lees, Angelsey, 17-24 September 2022.

End to End via the Churches, part 1

Welcome to a bit of a summer blog about the churches I visited on my End to End in 2019 that was inspired by a recent conversation on Twitter. The actual blog on the 2019 End to End started in April of that year and took 117 days for a distance of 1110 miles. At that time most Parish churches in England were open, though I can’t say what you will find now. Some other churches were open from to time time, depending on local conditions and events, like flower festivals and the like. There will be several parts to this blog because there were a lot of churches and because I started at Land’s End we have the South West up first. In part 1 I’ll cover Land’s End to Truro.

St Sennen, founded 520AD

St Sennen church under blue sky, April 2019

Founded before Columba landed on Iona or Augustine made it to Kent, the early date of this foundation is probably accounted for by missionaries between West Ireland and Brittany. There are a lot of unusual saints names in Western Cornwall for this reason. The church yard and surrounding path include several early stone slab crosses.

2. Borah Chapel, 1878

West Cornwall is also full of chapels, often in very small villages. not all of these survive as places of worship but, like this one at Borah, have been converted to other, often domestic use. Interesting because many of the nonconformist denominations began as worshipping communities in people’s homes. The tradition has come full circle in some places, like Borah.

3. St Michael’s Mount

Not actually visited in 2019, I have crossed the causeway several times over the years. Named for the Archangel himself (rather than a brand of underwear), it’s an interesting spot, under the care of the National Trust.

4. Marazion Methodist Church

This village is on the SW Coast path opposite St Michael’s Mount. The church has a history of of hospitality and shelter. We once left our tandem there and they kindly kept an eye on it.

5. St Hilary Parish Church

This is a fascinating place, with early stone slab crosses in the churchyard and inside the remains of a Roman stone inscription. The interior is also decorated with painting by local people of the early Cornish Saints.

6. Gwennap Pit

Associated with early Methodism, this is an open air place of worship, visit by John Wesley. There is also a small Methodist Chapel on the site. Wesley is said to have preached at Gwennap Pit 18 times between 1762 and 1789.

6. St Kea Parish Church

Another delightful Parish Church named for a local Cornish Saint, the small village of St Kea is just off the A39 on the way to Truro. We had a picnic in the churchyard.

7. Truro Cathedral

The first Cathedral on my LEJOG route was at Truro. It has a small pigrim chapel inside the main door, otherwise you’ll need to pay the entrance fee for the main part of the building. The style is Victorian Gothic and it was built between 1880 and 1910.

From my remembered bible: Come and be a living stone!

One more step along the world I go……

Janet Lees, one time End to Ender, now living in Longdendale.

Voting for change

Dear Benedict,

The world keeps on changing. In 1984 when I first visited South Africa, I could not have known that it would be the last decade for Apartheid, or that I’d be back in 1994 to see the first democratic elections take place. I mention it because Archbishop Desmond Tutu has died, aged 90.

I might have mentioned before that I’m not very good with the great men and that I find the leadership sections of your Rule problematic at times. It’s always good to celebrate an exception. The Arch, as he was called, was one of those rare exceptions for me, and he seems relevant to the rest of chapter 64 of your Rule.

A monument to world leaders made of recycled material for COP26, in Stockport.

When I arrived in south Africa in 1984 all I knew about Apartheid was that we didn’t eat their apples. By the time I left a month later I’d learnt a whole lot more. I’d read about Black Liberation Theology, I’d seen the signs of racial segregation all around me and I’d heard about Desmond Tutu. I was to continue my education both in South Africa and the UK for the next ten years at least. I read the Kairos Document, I listened to people of all races and eventually I went back and learnt about contextual bible study (CBS) at the University of Kwa Zulu Natal in 1994.

One of the books I read in South Africa in the 1980s

These things became foundations for my ministry. Later I followed the work of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. In all of this the face of Tutu was often seen weeping or laughing and much in between. The world recognised him for the ‘goodness in life and wisdom in teaching’ that chapter 64 of your Rule recommends in a leader.

Not every leader can be a Tutu, but to aim for ‘love not fear’ seems to be the bottom line.

From my Remembered Tutu: ‘Every human person is a stand in for God’ (Desmond Tutu).

Go well, Arch.

From a Friend of Scholastica and a Member of the Lay Community of St Benedict.

Footsteps

We’ve had a week walking in East Yorkshire with some lovely weather. We were based at the lovely oasis that is Acorn Glade.

A small wildlife haven and people restorer that is a home from home, with lovely, welcoming hosts, I can’t recommend it enough. It’s also handy for many fine walks and COVID secure.

We were picking up on some of our previous East Yorkshire routes.

Starting at Selby on day 1 I walked to Riccall on the TPT. We were last at Selby on 24th August 2020. Riccall has a great deli for picnic items which are an essential accompaniment to a hot summer.

Day 2 saw me start again in Beverley, where we left off on 11th September 2020. Unfortunately in the mean time the corner Co-op has closed. Good thing we got those picnic items the previous day. My first visit was to Beverley Minister where John of Beverley is remembered by a skilful piece of embroidery. After leaving Beverley I was on the Rail Trail route of the old railway line to Market Weighton.

Day 3 saw me start that again at Kiplingcoates and while I ambled along to the Kiplingcoates Nature Reserve in a disused chalk pit, Bob began to other side of Market Weighton and came towards me. There were many common blue out, or uncommon common blue as I called them: the first I’d seen this year. We eventually met at St Helen’s Well, which was a cool shady spot on what had by now become a very hot day.

Day 4 began at the A163, where Bob had been the day before, and I took the Bubwith Rail Trail to Bubwith. This one won the award for Route of the Week, it’s quiet, green, well maintained straightness made it an ideal walking route for us. We also saw a partial eclipse of the sun on the way. At Bubwith, ice cream can be had at the Jug and Bottle in the High Street.

Day 5 began at Bubwith, with the last section of the line through what the locals called Dingle Dell, a beautiful green path to where the bridge runs out over the Derwent. From there it was down the riverside path and small roads. I met Bob at Wressle at the Parish Church of St John of Beverley. A more modern building, John’s reputation has survived locally for more than a thousand years. It’s Bede who recalls him in his Ecclesiastical History and may have known him as a young man. What came across to me from the various accounts was his humility and peacemaking. May such gifts of leadership be valued and promoted by us all.

Our week ended at Bamby Barrage where freshwater Derwent meet salty Ouse. We were last here on 25th August 2020 when I was walking east on the TPT. We had one of our picnics in the car park. It was a lovely week to ‘join up some dots’ in East Yorkshire and we plan another visit in September when we shall return to see Acorn Glade in Autumn glory.

From my remembered bible: Show me your ways, O God. May my path be straight.

Walk on

Janet Lees, in East Yorkshire, 7th to 11th June 2021. I hope to add photographs over the next few days.

Happy Day!

Dear Benedict

Today we celebrate the life of your twin sister, St Scholastica. Of course even as I write this I am making a whole host of assumptions about her, you and the story. Some wonder if she really existed, some wonder if she really was your twin sister and some wonder if she had a story of her own.

I’m a great one for wondering. It gets me by. I’ll go with Scholastica as sister and twin for the purposes of wondering. That tradition has it that she lived a monastic life and that her community used your Rule, as do so many still today. It would be obvious to any who knew me that I’d borrow St Scholastica’s cover story for the Mobile Chapel of which I’m the unconfined hermit.

Bambi, the Mobile Chapel of St Scholastica, in her winter coat, January 2021

The idea that both twin communities were following the same rule gives it a greater strength. It was being tried out and lived with in different circumstances. Although the scholar in me would like to have more words actually attributable to Scholastica, I think there are plenty in the Rule that are probably hers. You heard her and it would have influenced what you wrote. As I write to you I try to find a short title for the day, and I attribute that search to Scholastica: an urge to find a few words that resonate with contemporary life.

Bambi, the Mobile Chapel of St Scholastica, in Longdendale in the summer of 2020

I also learned that Scholastica is known as the patron saint of children with epilepsy. As one who worked with children who have epilepsy and their families for many years this is dear to me too.

From the remembered gospel: At the bottom of the mountain, Jesus meets a family of a boy who has seizures. This child’s father says to Jesus ‘I believe, help my unbelief!’ The mother is silent.

So today I once again think of all those silent through the ages, not necessarily by choice, but often by convention. I remember the silent unrecorded ones, those who’s words were not written down or remembered. I remember all those who have helped my unbelief.

Like Scholastica, may I follow The Way.

From a Friend of Scholastic and a Member of the Lay Community of St Benedict.

A Dancing Day?

Today’s letter is to Mother Julian of Norwich, the first woman to write a book in English that has survived, from the 14th century.

Dear Mother Julian,

I imagine you missed them. How could you not? If the Black Death was anything like we understand it, then it was horrendous and to lose you family to it, dreadful. Other plagues would come and go. I’ve visited Eyam, for example, where there was plague in 1665, and seen the place where one woman buried her whole family, one after another. It’s here: https://historicengland.org.uk/services-skills/education/educational-images/riley-graves-riley-lane-eyam-6974

I often think of you in that simple space, made holy by your constant prayer. A quiet and austere stone cell, I have my own aluminium equivalent, but I also have the choice to open the doors, be inside or out.

Inside the Mobile Chapel of St Scholastica, Bambi.

I wonder what took you there, as I listen to contemporary stories of loss and grief, anxiety and sadness, of the missing and the missed, the lonely and the alone: was it like that for you?

Or did the stones seem warm and welcoming, resonant and reflective as you readily embraced this lone existence? Time to think, to remember, to grieve, to renew, to celebrate; we all need such times and places.

I first read your book about 40 years ago. It astonished me. It confirmed me as a woman of faith in ways some other word didn’t do. I could stretch out my hand to you over the centuries and see you open yours and show me the hazelnut; simple but significant. A woman, on her own, was enough, to be able to see God and say so.

I am not alone, not like you were. I flit back and forth, connected in different ways, by sight, by internet, by memory. But I still hugely value your insights and your persistence. As I dig down into the earth of faith, I am pleased to echo with you that ‘We shall not be overcome’ and ‘All Shall Be Well’.

From the remembered bible: Pray at all times.

In response to the call of Christ, I seek to live holy communion, create holy space and offer holy service. (Prayer of the Lay Community of St Benedict http://www.laybenedictines.org/)

From a Friend of Scholastica and a Member of the Lay Community of St Benedict.

Saints Alive!

Dear Benedict

We’re approaching All Saints and All Souls, an extended autumnal feast to remember those who have gone before us in the faith. I’m not clear how this would have worked in your day, as there were many fewer official saints. However, you consider saints important to Benedictine spirituality and mention them in chapter 14, so that’s why I’m writing to you about that now.

Saints are just one of the things that still divide Christians today. We have our different views about who are worthy to be called Saints, who can appoint them, how we should remember them and much more. One person’s Saint is not necessarily another’s.

However, it’s clear that there are many people who through the generations have kept the faith alive in many ways and who we remember for diverse different reasons. Some are associated with a place or cause, some are more like common ancestors in the faith or beloved family members. Even you get to be a Saint, Benedict! I’ve no idea how you’d receive that, except of course I’m sure it would be humbly.

One of the biggest problems with the faith is the urge in us to cart our history about with us, and when it becomes too much to carry, to set it down somewhere and continually revisit it. Sometimes this is helpful. It can inspire and enliven us, but it can also bog us down, distract us and take up too much of the energy we need for living the faith today.

Our churches and religious places are not museums. They are supposed to be beacons: a means of lighting out way. So too the Saints: people to propel us forwards.

Speaking personally, there are a vast number of people who do that faith propulsion thing for me. Some are those the Church recognises as official saints, but most are just ordinary people that I might read about or meet. I chose Scholastica as my running mate for many different reasons. As your twin she was connected to you, but like me she was female. However, in our day, very little is known about her directly and few, if any, of her actual words survive. That much of her story is familiar to the lot of many women in the early era of the Church.

What has been passed on about her was that she was feisty and ready to question you. It’s good to know that. I’d add to her name a whole list of others beginning with Julian of Norwich, Florence Nightingale and Madge Saunders. You can read a piece I wrote about Madge in the Dangerous Women Project.

So I wish you a happy feast, with which ever Saints keep you alive in the faith.

From the remembered bible: Let us run the race that is before us!

Keep me alive in my faith!

From a Friend of Scholastica and a Member of the Lay Community of St Benedict.

Live Life!

Dear Benedict

My biggest vice is chocolate, although I do try to make it fair trade. Of course actually, my biggest vice is joining in with all the other things and behaviours we 21st century humans think are indispensable to our existence, but I’d choose the chocolate every time I’m afraid.

In the 2nd paragraph of chapter 1 you mention anchorites or hermits, neither of which is likely to be familiar to most ordinary people. There are still some about, I know, but the idea of solitary living is more of a fashion choice those days than a spiritual discipline, except for those for whom it is not a choice at all but just the way life is. So I’m going to suggest ‘Live life’ for this section.

I know you tried the solitary religious life before you gathered together those first monastics. I’m not exactly sure how that came about or why you left it behind, but you seemed to decide that living with others and creating community that way was your calling. You’re not really anti-anchorites or anti-hermits but rather warning people off thinking it’s an easy option. I’m pretty sure it isn’t.

However, it does have its appeal at least as a part time option. If you’d ever been to the Farne Islands in the Spring it’s obvious why Cuthbert chose Inner Farne as his hermitage at the end of his life. He might have had to dodge the dive bombing terns but the gentle eiders, his very own Cuddy Ducks, were there too as well as some amusing puffins and I’m sure it would have been brilliant for a few months of the year.

The cell that is cut into the stone bank of the river Coquet near Warkworth is less appealing. It’s less clear who lived there, but I once sang the Magnificat there to the tune of Waltzing Matilda. Julian’s cell in Norwich was destroyed by bombing in WW2. The rebuilt version tries to convey the atmosphere of one who may have fielded repeated enquiries like ‘Have you got a light?’. In your time people looked to the desert for inspiration in the spiritual life. The fens of East Anglia, a muddy river bank in Northumberland or a post-industrial valley in Derbyshire might not have been part of the spiritual imagination then. They are now.

When I retired I got my Bambi Camper Van as my hermitage. Time alone as a positive choice can be a very meaningful thing and maybe each of us has something of that yearning in us. Forced solitary experience, however, whether the hostages in Iran or those kept indoors shielding from Corona virus are more destructive. But that doesn’t mean we should avoid the opportunities we can find for positive solitude.

Meanwhile my real vices remain and it will take a life time to winkle them out, in or out of community. I think of this section as ‘Live ‘Life!’ and I suggest ‘A guide to being really human’ as a subtitle for the Rule.

From the remembered bible: Be still and know that I am God.

I’m still here.

From a Friend of Scholastica’s and a Member of the Lay Community of St Benedict.