Day 3 of our #GrandWalkOut and we’re still on our first canal: the Macclesfield Canal.
I started at Congleton and walked to Ackers Crossing. Bob started at Ackers Crossing and walked to Kidsgrove. His destination meant we had completed the Macclesfield Canal and were now heading down the Trent and Mersey Canal.
Crossing the End to End route…
We also crossed the route of our daughter Hannah’s End to End (she walked it in 2012) just north of Kidsgrove at the Red Bull pub.
Bob at Kidsgrove station
There were a number of other firsts today. My first heron on the canal. I always look for these beautiful sentinels. Most importantly though, our first ice cream of the walk: a Snugberys at Little Moreton Hall, which is an incredible building.
Little Moreton Hall
In the Rule, St Benedict urges the community to put prayer first, which is good advice. It comes in many forms and it’s good to try several. I was pleased to hear worship in Ukrainian and English from the Catholic Ukrainian Cathedral of the Holy Family in Exile on Radio 4 this morning. It was the first time I’d heard their particular liturgy. But also because, before it became the Ukrainian Cathedral the building was the Kings Weigh Church. A church of the Congregational Union of England and Wales at the time, it was here in 1917 that Constance Coltman became the first woman to be ordained in England. When I last visited, Dr Orchard’s coat hook was still visible in the vestry (he was one of the ordaining ministers, and later became a Catholic).
The Ukrainian Catholic Cathedral of the Holy Family in Exile, London
I begin with prayer. Not a lengthy liturgy but a simple opening of heart, and I return to it many times during the day, from first step to last.
From my remembered bible: In the beginning…. (also part of the Ukrainian Easter liturgy)
Open my heart.
From Friend of Scholastica and a Member of the Lay Community of St Benedict.
Janet Lees, Day 3 of the #GrandWalkOut from Congleton to Kidsgrove.
Day 2 of the #GrandWalkOut had Bob returning to Macclesfield to walk to Congleton via canal with his brother.
What’s what in Congleton
I opted for a more gentle circular walk around Congleton, starting by the River Dane. I don’t know much about the story of Congleton but I saw plenty of things that made me wonder at it, including an abandoned paddle boat cum bar, and a sad lost shoe.
Abandoned
In St Peter’s Church yard there were signs of the Easter story remembered last week. The crucifixion and the empty tomb were both represented.
Good Friday Empty tomb in St Peter’s churchyard
Each of us has a story and the families, communities and places we are linked to also have stories. We are surrounded by these story layers.
The Rule of St Benedict can be read as a story, the story of the development of monasticism. In the Lay Community we are constantly asking how this story is relevant to us living in the world today. Benedict didn’t claim to be the first or even that his community was perfect. But he did try to encourage a way of communal life that was do-able, where people could thrive. This must surely be the story we want to be part of, both our successes and our failures.
A bridge over the Macclesfield Canal
The canals were a large part of the story of industrial Britain. Then they were largely abandoned for rail and road transport, to later be rediscovered and reused. Every community goes through such phases and rediscovering new purpose on old foundations is a worthwhile communal enterprise. The Easter story is about new life and is foremost in our minds in the 50 glorious days after Easter Sunday.
A lane…
From the remembered bible: we build on rock.
Tell me the old, old story.
From a Friend of Scholastica and a Member of the Lay Community of St Benedict.
Janet Lees, Day 2 of the #GrandWalkOut, Congleton.
From today the blog will look at little different. This is the beginning of a walk I am calling the #GrandWalkOut. It is a walk to London via canals.
It therefore begins on our nearest canal at Marple. I dropped Bob there as he was taking the first leg today as far as Bollington.
The first day of a long walk is a bit ‘wait and see’. It actually turned into the longest walk I’d done since having Covid19. It was beautiful to be back out in the Spring sunshine, ducklings bobbing alongside, the edges of the path decorated with Spring flowers.
I drove onto Macclesfield to pick up an LCSB friend and then back to Bollington where I parked to car (for Bob to find later) and set off on foot with my friend down the Macclesfield Canal.
The walk was followed by first class Benedictine Hospitality in Macclesfield. As a Lay Community we say we try to ‘re-imagine’ the Rule for the 21st century. But some bits are more straightforward than others. Sharing a meal is an obvious place to start. We were the welcomed strangers. It’s good to be reminded that this is what is expected of us.
From the remembered bible: Jesus said ‘I’m coming to your house for tea’.
Thanks.
From friend of Scholastica and a member of the Lay Community of St Benedict.
Maybe stranger things have happened than Jesus rising from the dead, but for me that’s the new beginning. We celebrated together as a Lay Community this weekend and we said a lot of Alleluias.
Easter fire, 2022.
It was a strange time to celebrate. It seems that the Easter message is still misunderstood even in the UK which claims a long back story with Christianity (it was probably brought here by the Romans in the first century). But this Easter the usual nonsense was rolled out to deter Christians from living life in community according to the faith we share. Foremost amongst these is the nonsense that Christians should not be political.
I’ve no idea what the dominant view was in the 5th and 6th centuries when you were just getting started. But there’s no doubt that the Rule you are remembered for is a political document as is the bible we share. The heart of the Rule is that ‘All guests should be welcomed as Christ’ for ‘When I was a stranger you welcomed me’ (chapter 53). It is this strange business of being a stranger that we stumbled over again this Easter.
A stranger is just someone we don’t know yet. A stranger is a person, a human being just like us. Unfortunately we have developed the unpleasant tendency of ‘othering’ the stranger, ostracising and excluding anyone ‘not like us’. We seem to be at our most vicious when it comes to strangers who arrive in boats and lorries unexpectedly. Aspects of our media and politics have developed very hostile narratives around such strangers.
Strangers on the shore?
In all my travels I have never found myself treated in this way, however unexpectedly I’ve turned up. I have sometimes been told my interpretation of Christianity is ‘too political’ sometimes in the oddest of circumstances. This usually means the hearer disagrees with my interpretation. I don’t think I’ve ever accused anyone of an interpretation that was either ‘too political’ or conversely, ‘not political enough’.
Some of you will be rolling your eyes and saying ‘Yes, but…’ Not buts here. Of course the community could get filled up with strangers, who would then not be strangers. What is it that we can’t share?
Later this week I shall be experimenting with stranger status again as I set off with Bob on another long walk. This one was postponed since 2020 and will take us down to London and back. I will be a gyrovague once more, a rootless stranger looking for a welcome of sorts. Now you are fairly unhappy about gyrovagues in your Rule as I’ve mentioned before, partly to counteract the tendency for people just to roam about. You liked your settled community and wanted others to both enjoy and commit to it as well. But sometimes life causes us to roam and when that happens we desperately need not censure or exclusion, not resettlement camps in far flung places, but welcome.
To London, but not starting from here….
From my remembered bible I was a stranger and you welcomed me.
Welcome us all.
From a Friend of Scholastica and a Member of the Lay Community of St Benedict.
The blog of the walk will be found here from 22nd April 2022, instead of the usual letters to Benedict.
After a week of Covid19, I’m gradually feeling better: tiredness continues. What with other folks I know also testing positive it made me think a bit differently about Holy Week.
Testing, testing ….
It’s hard enough being holy for a week without being wholly weak. But every week includes weakness. You allowed for Alleluias ‘except in Lent’ (chapter 15) and evidently that meant you were more generous with this practice than some instructors. So I’ll just fit in a quick Alleluia for weakness while I’m here.
It’s hard to celebrate weakness in a culture that hard on the soft aspects of being human. Even in this week of weeks the bits that could be seen as weak are edited to distance us from too much weakness.
It’s the bridge that’s weak….
A man arrived at the city gate on a donkey, like many did every week. Rather than see this as ordinary, let alone weak, a great cheering crowd is heard making a fuss about a king coming, however unlikely the beast. Some say the donkey knew: they are knowing creatures.
A knowing look
Tired, weary and as weak as you or me, Jesus climbs off the donkey and disappears into the underbelly of Jerusalem. When he reappears he’s sitting down, not standing, in the temple. Just watching, just waiting, just breathing, he notices ordinary things. There’s an ordinary woman who makes an ordinary offering. Easy to overlook that.
Easy to overlook the poor today even though they are still with us. To overlook the ones on pre-payment meters queuing at local foodbanks for food that doesn’t need cooking. The message seems to be weakness should be ignored. But not by Jesus who remarks that it’s ‘All she had to live on’. It’s still up to us to determine if it’s enough to provide pot noodles or whether we should entice anyone into making a greater fuss alongside the weak.
Enough to live on?
It’s a week in which weakness continued to surface in all kinds of ways. Coming to the end of his temper with things as they were: a fig tree with no fruit, a temple market place with no justice, who wouldn’t loose it, and let it loose to echo down history as weakness or what? I’ll add a quick Alleluia for that too.
In a weak moment he takes the towel and tries to show them what it’s really like being part of a squabbling community in a place of political turmoil. Alleluia for clean feet.
In a weak moment he takes bread, ordinary stuff, and tries to say something about the yeast infused stuff that feeds them and the fermented juice that runs in their veins over hundreds of years of running away. They miss a lot of it, as do we, unhappy about too much weakness. We squabble about who was and who wasn’t there, what was and wasn’t said, what it did or didn’t mean, instead of taking the stuff and sharing it. ‘This is my body’: Alleluia for that.
ready to be bread
The Mount of Olives at night would have been a dark and isolated place. Not a place for sleeping or for lover’s to meet and kiss. Giving all his strength away, as he has been throughout his ministry, he is taken away in weakness. Alleluia for that.
From there on, everything tumbles away until stripped and bleeding, nailed and tormented, all that’s left is weakness. And perhaps that why we want to edit the weak bits, busy concentrating on getting the right ending rather than what it takes to get there. Who wants a weak leader, one with mental health challenges or physical limitations, a mistake-maker, giver-upper? No mask or put on face here. Only the agonised admission: it is finished. Alleluia for that.
Sixth century cross in West Cornwall
My week will have weak bits, tired bits, uncertain and unconvincing bits. The answer will be ‘I don’t know’ several times a day. I’ll step away, avert my eyes, deny and prevaricate. And from time to time, I may just glimpse some holiness in all this and raise my feeble Alleluia.
From my remembered bible: There was silence
Alleluia!
From a Friend of Scholastica and a Member of the Lay community of St Benedict.
We’re now more than halfway through Lent this year, so no return to pancakes yet then. My eye was taken by chapter 53 about eating at the table of the Abbott or Prioress (is there a reason why Abbottess was not used?).
Part of the public ministry of the community was hospitality and that meant meals with the senior leadership team. It was, you write, more than just a show, it was where the real concern and care of the community was demonstrated.
A table
It made me think about how we demonstrate our care and concern. I was listening to an online talk about church buildings being closed during lockdown, The speaker took the line that the Church had laid down its life by closing, to keep people safe. Given that large indoor events continue to have the ability to spread COVID19, at a rate that is increasing again in the UK, that’s worth thinking about some more.
I will probably never know if I had COVID19 because we can’t get any LFTs to check it out. But whatever it is, I’d want to protect anyone, particularly from the risk that is Long Covid. One of the things the Pandemic has gifted us is the opportunity to think again about our responsibilities to each others.
A table on Roughfields, Derbyshire
Community is built on how we regard each other. A recent ceremony to award participants in the film industry is a case in point. The leadership team appoints a court jester to lead the show who then uses it an an opportunity to make dubious humour at the expense of some of the participants, one of whom takes offence and hits him. It seems likely that neither participants highly regards the other.
It’s challenging to come back from a situation in which a relationship has broken down enough to turn violent. How could Ukraine trust Russia again, and yet as neighbours they will have to. Today Turkey invites them both to the top table, provides hospitality and an opportunity to talk. Let’s hope no one gets food poisoning.
Most of the monastic communities I have visited in the UK no longer seem to kept chapter 53 of the Rule: there is no separate table. Everyone eats together; monastics, leadership team, guests all at the same table. It is perhaps a sign of how our society has changed since you wrote your Rule. The best demonstration we can give of our care and concern for each other is for us all to eat together. May the second half of Lent be that kind of sign for us all.
Easter Day with the Lay Community of St Benedict, 2017
From my remembered gospel ‘Eat, drink’.
Sustain our neighbours: may we eat together in peace.
From a Friend of Scholastica and a Member of the Lay Community of St Benedict.
Lent again here, I sigh….. tries to mumble a few pro-Lent lines and fails miserably. I don’t come from a tradition strong on Lent, whereas of course your Rule has plenty to say about Lent, particularly chapter 49 (OK, it doesn’t come after chapter 63: don’t @ me).
You recommend a continuous Lent and then shy away from it saying monastics are not up to that. Do make up your mind, please. If the purpose of Lent is change then if it’s continuous that surely risks no change at all, which is the antithesis to its purpose. You write of a holy and pure life surely knowing that a vain goal. It’s mostly this sort of stuff that makes me fall out with you. You assume ‘negligence’ and ‘evil habits’ without really any knowledge of context or cause.
The beginning of Jacob’s Ladder on the West Highland Way, 2019
There’s no doubt the Rule has changed me. Listen to a Lay community Podcast here to confirm that, just as Jesus and his disciples who made it to the mountain top for the Transfiguration were changed. But that wasn’t the end and more pressing business waited for them at the bottom of the mountain: a vulnerable family in challenging circumstances. It’s not an advert for washing powder, though I’d have to say that climbing to the top of mountains is way more exhausting in my experience than this group seem to find. No mention of huffing and puffing and tired muscles, all of which are what I mostly remember on routes like Jacob’s Ladder on the West Highland Way: hot and heavy going. Worth it, yes, but effortful.
Top of Jacob’s Ladder on the West Highland Way, 2019
So back to Lent… You say that the follower should inform the leader of the Lenten discipline to be undertaken. A sort of monastic safety system I think so that people don’t undertake things that would be counter productive or dangerous. Is intermittent fasting a good thing? Depending on what adverts you’re reading on your social media. Is leaving off social media a good thing? Depends what you’re doing on social media in the first place. The purpose of Lent is to change us, not just as individuals but as a whole community, which is a pretty big challenge in Lay life. Who is my community?
It seems likely that with several more weeks to go I’ll return to my negligent version of Lent with my daily dose of social media and chocolate. I’ll pour my heart into looking for local wildlife, keeping track of the seasons, and lament climate grief and violence in Ukraine. I’m pretty sure that it’s not the sort of Lent many people associate with the season, which is probably why I’ve not mentioned it, until now.
Frog in Longdendale.
From my remembered bible: Jesus went into the wilderness for forty days and nights.
Stay with me.
From a Friend of Scholastica and a Member of the Lay Community of St Benedict.
I’m looking out on another wet windy day in the valley. Although Storm Eunice has now blown through the trees are still tossing about and everything seems restless, finding it hard to resettle to their place in the world.
A fallen tree in Derbyshire
Some words change their meaning or emphasis and the idea of rank from chapter 63 of your Rule is like this. To you it just meant who had arrived first, who had been in the community the longest. The rank was just the number assigned from the first to the last. Its meaning has changed to be one of superiority or greater authority. A person has greater rank when they are given authority over others, regardless of when they arrived on the scene. It does seem to be a pervasive aspect of organisations: who is boss counts. Although the other meaning, the one you used, is not without problems, and can be used by early arrivals to stall or stymie change or progress in a community.
Rank: the rings indicate the number of years in the life of a tree.
As far as the trees are concerned, storms can change rank. Some of the oldest, biggest, most precious trees can find themselves felled. Neither gone nor forgotten, they have started on their ‘nurse log’ phase by which they begin to rot back into the earth, providing nutrients and refuge for many species in the process. They make it look easy, just lying their rotting, but for human beings the change in circumstances which come with different phases in our lives can be difficult. The urge to ‘pull rank’ can be hard to overcome.
Pulling rank: my fungus is bigger than yours!
Communities change and evolve as new responsibilities are shared out. We discover new skills in others and take on new roles ourselves. At some point we may embrace the challenge of the nurse log, sheltering and nourishing others as we decline and decay. It’s a noble calling.
Cross-wise trees
From my remembered gospel: The first shall be last and the last shall be first.
May I rot creatively.
From a Friend of Scholastica and a Member of the Lay Community of St Benedict.
Most chapters of your Rule include more than one line of thought or instruction, so it can be difficult, in today’s context to see which strand to pick up and follow through. To be children in a monastic community in the 6th century is not something that is replicated today. Our modern education system is very different, but essentially the idea of nurturing young people to take on adult responsibility is a common link. That only leaves us having to decide what adult responsibility might be and who has attained it….
Is spreading fake news a demonstration of adult responsibility, or telling lies in public office , or ramping up international tensions, or renegading on international agreements, or persecuting minorities, or ….(fill in other irresponsible acts perpetrated by adults in the world recently)?
In the chair: an adult responsibility?
I think our world of adult and child is not a clear cut as you might have thought it in your day, when children stood up for their elders and didn’t sit down again unless given permission (Chapter 63). I don’t mean children today are impolite, far from it. I just think we don’t measure childhood by such things, and adults can be quite impolite anyway.
Play is a key aspect of childhood, but you don’t really mention it, for children or adults in your Rule, which is a shame as I enjoy it a lot. Indeed it is said to be important to our well being. Perhaps you thought some of the aspects of life in the monastery were playful or could be executed in a playful way, like liturgy or gardening. In too many places children never get to play and adults make life grim either directly or indirectly.
Remnants of childhood at Auschwitz
in 2015 I went with some young people to see some of the grimmer side of life with a visit to the former Nazi concentration camp of Auschwitz-Birkenhau. A place were thousands perished and certainly not a place for play, the faces of lives cut all too short and their pitiful belongs have stayed long in my memory, as they rightly should. Our corporate annual remembrance of the horrors of the Holocaust is now something we see through the eyes of those few remaining who were then children and now adults in their 90s.
Lessons from Auschwitz, 2015.
Which leaves open again the question of responsibility. Once the atrocities of the Holocaust were reveal many adults tried to evade responsibility for the events. Many children carried the weight of those events for the rest of their lives. It’s a very big example of the disconnect between adult and child responsibility but one which can find echoes in other ways in every community in which children take responsibility time and again as carers, for people of all ages, or bread winners and workers or peacemakers, often with little adult support.
Sun setting at Auschwitz-Birkenhau
It makes responsibility an everyone thing, especially responsibility for justice.
From my remembered gospel: Let the children come to me.
Shape me to fit my responsibilities, in ways both playful and serious.
From a Friend of Scholastic and a Member of the Lay Community of St Benedict.
