Amble round Amble

The date is 684AD. Someone has to convince Cuthbert to return to Lindisfarne as Bishop. That task falls to Elfreda, Abbess of Whitby.

The tide was still falling, a breeze was skimming in from the sea and the Cuddy Ducks, the males in their distinctive black and white plumage, were bobbing along the channel carved by the River Coquet as it met the sea.
Having agreed to meet here, for sometime they said nothing. The grey sea and sky merged somewhere in the distance and they stood together admiring the gentle harmony.
As they did so a dog otter, sleek and brown, emerged from the surf below them and seeing the Saints came up to salute them, sniffing the air as he got nearer. Then winding his slim body between their legs, made off back to the rocks.
Elfreda let out her breath. Cuthbert turned and smiled. ‘Do you have a speech prepared to convince me to come back to the mainland and assume the office of Bishop’, he enquired.
‘No I don’t’, she said. ‘There’s nothing I could say would make the role more attractive than the Hermitage of the Farne Islands that you know and love so well, where the birds return in their season to raise their young, where you can praise the Creator of All every day without ceasing, the sea and sky your cathedral, where wild creatures seek you out for your company not your wisdom. No human being could ask you to leave that for the trivial problems we have here’.
The wind makes eyes water and theirs were no exception. ‘Come then’, he said. ‘You are coming back with me to be Bishop’? She queried. ‘Well I’m here am I not?’ He said. ‘And you are right, only God could call me from there to here, a migration for a season’.

Janet Lees, Amble, 16.07.2018

Elfreda of Whitby and Cuthbert met on Coquet Island near Amble in 684 AD.

Why Benedict?

IMG_2027

You’d not think a rule by a bearded man would have much appeal to the rule-challenger that I like to think I am. Whilst it’s true that I’m not very good with the great men, I have a place in my heart for Benedict and for the communities of Benedictines that continue to welcome and nurture me. These sisters and brothers have been most kind and worshipping with them has been renewing.
My remembered version of the Rule of St Benedict concentrates largely on the beginning with a few bits in the middle. What I remember is it’s not supposed to be onerous or harsh and that’s how I try to interact with it.

When felting wool I take a few strands and lay them down, and then I take a few more and lay them down and then a few more and so on. It isn’t until quite a few layers are built up that I add the warm soapy water that will felt them together into a new project. Benedict doesn’t mention the community felter alongside cellarer, porter and prior or abbess but that role of taking strands and bringing them together is a community role. It’s one I enjoy and in my community felting I bring together different layers of the remembered bible, remembered rule and remembered stories and silences of all kinds.
So today I remember all those who engage with the Rule of St Benedict in whatever way, whether written down, remembered or felted and I give thanks for hospitality and worship felted together over hundreds of years, new communities emerging in new colours and prayer and silence still nurturing.

In our life and our believing
The love of God

11th July 2018

Were the Gyrovagues really that bad?

There was a group of monastics frequently condemned as dissolute by early church leaders: the Gyrovagues. These wanderers were judged as taking more than they gave in their peripatetic life style going from monastery to monastery. St Benedict wasn’t keen on them.
But then why would he be? He was trying to establish a rule for settled communities. If being a Gyrovague looked too good, who would bother with his Rule. Everyone would be off like a shot leaving behind the dour brethren and repetitive roles of these communities for the more attractive life of the Gyrovagues.
Just imagine, you turn up and you get welcomed. People listen to your stories and feed you. You see new places and experience worship in different settings. For an early monastic this must have seemed a winsome option.
I’m about to become a Gyrovague. On and off for the last few summers I’ve done a bit of wandering, physical and spiritual. This has often involved walking a way somewhere: St Cuthbert’s in the Borders, the Cleveland Way in North Yorkshire and the Hadrian’s Wall Path have all been completed.
Next year I will attempt my end to end. I’m in training for it with my 1000 mile challenge. If I complete it, I shall be the third member of our family to do so. It all began in 2003, when Bob, then 50, walked LEJOG as it is affectionately known, ‘via the margins’ for his sabbatical. This walk has fed us ever since. Hannah was 9 years old and determined to do it herself one day. On this day in 2012, aged 18 and having just completed her A levels she began at Land’s End, finishing in September at John O’Groats before going to university.
I shall retire at Christmas and intend initially at least to become a Gyrovague and do my End to End, from Spring 2019.
This weekend in Hereford has been an interesting introduction in many ways. The newly launched St Thomas way is more than just a walking route. Ideal for Gyrovagues of all ages, it includes on line exploring for those who’s digital footprint is easier to access than their physical one
Here in the Mobile Chapel of St Scholastica, where there are at most two of us to share a host of roles, this weekend has been a blessing of welcome and worship, food and education. Did we give much back? I doubt it. We were enthusiastic and there is this blog, but essentially we were Gyrovagues, dissolutely taking more than we gave, and we are grateful for the opportunity.

In our life and our believing

The love of God

What would Scholastica say?

There are few sayings attributed to St Scholastica, the twin sister of St Benedict. He is known for his Rule and she is remembered for a few stories embroidered around the edges of his life.
Of course that’s not all that unusual. Few women had their words recorded at the time and some would think it pointless to pursue the question.

Some attribute these words to Scholastica:
I asked you and you did not listen,
So I asked God and he did listen.

They are recalled alongside the story of Scholastica trying to influence Benedict to change his mind about the pair continuing a conversation together. He wanted to get on with something else and sent her away. She still had things to say and wanted to stay. A thunderstorm arrived to settle the issue and she stayed.

It seems he struggled to change his mind. Being intractable seems to be a singular mark of poor, but so called strong, leadership. It’s found in many places. Daniel wouldn’t have been in the Lion’s Den if it weren’t that the king couldn’t possibly change his mind. Japheth’s daughter would have grown up and pursued a happy life if it wasn’t for the fact her father couldn’t change his mind. None of this demonstrates good leadership.
Good leadership reflects, shows remorse when necessary, learns, adjusts, and yes, changes its mind. Without the need for thunderstorms. Scholastica, I think, would agree.

In our life and our believing
The love of God

For John the Baptist

He crunched into another locust, wiped the headless body around the last of the honey and popped the final morsel into his mouth. His thoughts were, however elsewhere. His cousin Jesus was on his way to the river. Although it was barely dawn, he stood up, adjusted his camel hair garment, and strode downhill, away from the small cave in which he sometimes rested, to the banks of the Jordan.
Pilgrims were already gathering. As he approached them they stopped chattering and looked to him to speak. A soldier came up to him and asked him “Master, should I stay in the army now I’ve been baptised? ‘ He recognised one of the men he’d baptised the day before. John answered him clearly and firmly so everyone could hear. ‘It’s fine to stay in the army. Work fairly for your pay and don’t abuse your position.’ Then a woman asked him ‘Sir, my sister has made a rich marriage but she will give me nothing. She says I may be a servant in her household but she treats all her servants poorly and I won’t go there. Make her share what she has more fairly with me.’
‘I can’t make anyone do anything’ he replied. ‘I can only remind you all that God requires justice, mercy and humility. Those who fail to show these things will be remembered for it.’
Someone else was approaching and the crowd fell back to let him pass. It was his cousin, Jesus. He came up to John and said ‘Baptize me, John, here in front of everyone, and then I can begin.’
John was not expecting the request. ‘Why me?’ He asked.
‘Its what you do’ Jesus replied. ‘You baptize with water’, his hand indicated the gathered crowd. ‘You give them a new start. I need it too please’, and he began to take off his garment.
‘I’m not worthy’, said John, ‘even to undo your shoes’, as Jesus stooped to do this himself.
‘Please John, do as I ask’, and they walked out into the river together.
The water was deep and dark and the current strong. When they were at the place, John raised his hand and called down God’s blessing on the water and on the one beside him:
‘God of the Red Sea covenant, may this water be a road of liberation, may all who come here find freedom and a new opportunity to be your people, made in your image, called to be faithful.
May this one who is baptised today, be your faithful servant all of his life, dealing justly, offering mercy, walking humbly in your way’.
And with that he plunged Jesus into the depths of the dark water.
As he rose up, water flowing from his body, a loud crack of thunder unexpectedly ripped across the sky. The crowd on the shore looked fearfully at the sky. John and Jesus held each other in an embrace as the earth shook. A dove flew up from the branch of a dead tree and the thunder rumbled again, like a voice, saying ‘My son, my beloved, listen to him’. The sun broke through the clouds and struck the faces of the two men in the river. ‘Live wet, John,’ He said and they made their way back to the shore.

Janet Lees, feast of John the Baptiser.

This Kingdom Called Home 

Madge Saunders (1913-2009) is one of my heroes. So it was an emotional moment to see the exhibit about her that I had lent to the Great Exhibition of the North at the Hancock Museum in Newcastle this evening.
Madge was a pioneer: minister, missionary, intercultural advisor, anti-racism activist. She came from Jamaica in 1965 to serve those she called her Sheffield people. She was based at St James Presbyterian Church in Burngreave where she is still affectionately remembered. It was good to see her placed alongside other great women of the North. She shares a space in the exhibition with
Emily Davison, suffragette;
Jessie Reid Crosbie, writer, teacher, educational reformer;
Barbara Castle, MP;
Estelle Sylvia Pankhurst, suffragette;
Barbara Hepworth, artist.
Many others can be discovered in otherparts of the exhibition.
I look forward to bringing students from Silcoates school here later in the summer, to discover the rich tapestry of life, ideas and culture of the North and to dream dreams for their own future. It’s an amazing multi-layered exhibition and it’s wonderful to know that Madge is celebrated here as she so greatly deserves. She has indeed come home to the North.

Janet Lees, 21.06.2018
I was minister at St James Sheffield 20 years ago, and met Madge Saunders in Jamaica in 2002.

Another bit of Evening prayer

Additional Evening Prayers for the Mobile Chapel of St Scholastica

Begin with a chant like
Be still And know that I am God,  or similar

Silent reflection on remembered Bible or an encounter from the day, or examen

A magnificat

The Spirit in me, makes God grow bigger and bigger:
I am happy that God is my life line and that God continues to remember me,
the least important of God’s servants.

From now on people will call me blessed
For the amazing things God has done in my presence, lifting up the poor, the marginalised, those considered outsiders,
And putting down the rich, the arrogant, those who show no remorse, who neglect justice: sending them away with nothing.
I remember my forbears and those faithful ones: God forever keeps faith forever.

I see the evening sun go down
I await the rising of the morning Son

Peace be on us and for all for whom we pray.

Janet Lees,  at Launde Abbey,  31.05.2018

Evening prayer

The proposed order of Evening Prayer for the Mobile Chapel of St Scholastica

Begin with a chant like
Kindle a flame, (and light one if you wish),
Or Jesus remember me, or similar.

Silent reflection on remembered Bible or an encounter from the day, or examen.

Nunc dimitiss
God let your servant go in peace,
According to your promise
For I have seen the life line you have provided for me in front of everyone,
To be a light to all outsiders,
And for your unending glory.

God grant us a quiet night

And a peaceful end

Janet Lees at Launde Abbey,  29.05.2018

A walking blessing

Alongside the conversations about the weather and dogs, the usual stuff of walking encounters, may you also be blessed:

As the wind ruffles each counted hair,
Each bird’s graceful wing
And each tree’s leafy branch:
May the Creator bless you.

As the wind pushes you along
Or tugs you at each crossroads
Echoing the Call
May the Son bless you

As the wind roars or whispers,
Rocks or caresses,
Carrying back the sound of wild geese,
May the Spirit bless you.

May the Holy Three,
Create, call and sustain you
Today and everyday.

In our life and our believing
The love of God

The lost cow

I found a lost child’s toy at a bus stop in the North of England. It was a plastic cow with only one leg. I wondered what story might be behind its loss. If you like the story of the Lost Sheep maybe you’d like this one too.

When I lost it
Mum was mad.
The bus pulled up
And I was sad.
Now one legged
And all alone
Who will bring
The lost cow home?