Norfolk Pilgrim

On Sunday 26th April we seemed to have hit our stride. The day has been  Eucharistic. By which I mean full of thanksgiving.  An extended  time for giving " hearty thanks for all God's  goodness and loving-kindness to us and to all men". But also a day that had a time for all the different aspects of Eucharistic worship. The Service of the Word  - was provided by BBC Radio 4 at 8.10 a.m. (It was available after that on BBS Sounds) I cannot find enough superlatives to describe the wisdom, beauty, sensitivity and deep playfulness of the broadcast. We were blessed by being part of it. Going to Church -  We went to church as per pre-lockdown Sundays, but on this occasion after the Service of the Word. Hoping onto our bikes, we rode the half-hour there, half hour back exercise hour to St. Peter's, Hoveton  The ride gave an opportunity to consider the birds and flowers on the way, if only with half an ear and  half an eye. Amid the song I heard Chifchaff

It feels as if we have now got a bit of a routine going: Breakfast Staying at the breakfast table to listen to BBC Radio 4 Short break then at 9 a.m. the Church of England live-streamed service on their Facebook Page We were blessed to join Vasey-Saunders. Then a pilgrimage themed walk incorporating a local church. Sunday by Sunday we make our weekly pilgrimage to church. Nothing has changed.  We visited St. John's Church, Coltishall and proclaimed the Resurrection to those who were buried in the Christian hope. On the road, think Emmaus, it is as if, Christ talks and our hearts burn. Supper was fish pie, bread and wine  From beside the River Bure we find ourselves with Peter and hear the words 'Children do you have any fish......' (John 21.5) We do not know how this will unfold, but there is one who is with us  'til the end of the age.'

Alleluia! Christ is risen. And It will never be the same again. Allelulia! On the Second Sunday of Easter, the 5th after Lockdown, resurrection thoughts were in my mind as enjoyed my 1 hour's exercise around Norfolk's green lanes In field and hedgerow spring is bursting out all over. There are blue skies, a cool breeze and bright sunlight. Turning things over, as I pace the miles with half an ear on bird song and an eye scanning verges for spring flowers and sky for newly arrived migratory birds, I remember another spring day and another walk. I was walking in a very different agricultural landscape with the same blue sky, cool breeze and spring bursting out all over. I was in Southern Cyprus with a landscape and agriculture that shares much with Galilee. I can't say where or when exactly the penny dropped during that walk but this picture captures it all for me. After that walk, I understood so much more. The Parable of the Mustard Seed and the A

I appear to have run out of destinations I can reach in the proscribed hour's exercise.  These two places were only in range because I took to my bike.  It was good exercise but it did not feel to be as spiritually satisfying as having the ground beneath my feet and walking. The first point of call was All Saint's, Horstead.   In the normal course of events I would have celebrated the Easter  here last Sunday, by invitation of the Vicar; and, because he would have a week off after Easter, I would have taken the service there next Sunday too. A great privilege for someone who was part time Rector during the 1980's.  Today, I had come to the churchyard to see how the Conservation Churchyard was doing and visit the graves of those I love - many of whom I had buried. There's Noel, the organist; Peggy, his cousin; my faithful eight o'clockers ,  Ivy Preston, Mrs Grogan, Annie Petit...... I won't go on  other than to mention my children's beloved

With the first Holy Week and Easter Sunday in Lockdown lived through, I am back to exploring pilgrimage in the hour's exercise allowed. Still 'considering the flowers', we set out across the meadows towards Belaugh on a well trod path.  Catching a patch of forget-me-nots and find myself remembering Noel Chambers, Organist. "I remember walking to Belaugh in the winter of 1947 to play for the evening service. The snow was so deep in drifts that it reached to my armpits!" To be fair, he was only little. He was a complicated man but faithful. Along the way, marsh marigolds are beginning to show in the dykes. At journey's end St. Peter's Conservation Churchyard is coming into its Spring glory. The meadow saxifrage is beginning to show.  I was brought back to remembering mode by another patch of forget-me-nots. Who knows the number of  the dead here buried in the Christian hope of resurrection life. Daring to speak out loud I gave them the

Because I need to get in the cardiovascular exercise, I have mainly been considering the flowers on my hour's exercise this week. I did stop to notice the first of the summer's swallows resting up on a telephone wire and listen to the melodic song of a blackcap, but otherwise I was pushing myself. It's always good to be reminded of the Bard's, "Primrose path that leads to the everlasting bonfire" in Lent. Making haste and not stopping I found myself with St. John of the Cross in mind, writing his Spiritual Canticle  across the valley from the Generalife Gardens in Granada, looking south to the Alpujarra : "I will go in search of my love,  I will gather no flowers on the way.

Easter Sunday Based on the experience of the previous 3 Sundays of #Lockdown our Easter observance was as follows. 1) I looked at social media and responded to some as I drank coffee 2) Got up showered and dressed 3) Margaret and I came down for Breakfast. It echoed John 21 - Children have you any fish?  Richard decided to have fish for breakfast The backdoor was open for this first time at breakfast this year. That and the garden beyond, seemed to echo an open tomb and garden.   Over breakfast we listened to +G (the Bishop of Norwich ) on Radio Norfolk. 3) Shortly after, we gathered around a table again, joining  ++Justine and Mrs Welby gathered around their kitchen table.  Echoes here of that table at Emmaus. Archbishop Justine presided at Holy Communion broadcast far and wide via Facebook.  Back in the 70's and 80's, I would never have thought it possible!  Yet there was Bishop Rose Hudson-Wilkin joining us to read the Gospel. A black

Today's pilgrimage follows the same route as the Day 1, but this time with a different intention. The Morning Prayer readings today brought us in heart and mind to the Mount of Olives as described by St. Luke in Chapter 22. I was there in my mind's eye, seeing the drops of blood fall from my saviours brow as he prayed.  I was there in memory as well. I remembered once having seen flowers at the Church of Dominus Flevit, overlooking the city of Jerusalem  ( see another local pilgrimage here ).  Beneath the olive trees, red anemones echoed those drops of blood Luke tells us about. After a passage of years, those anemones and that blood remain fresh and untarnished in my heart and mind. The man told me to consider the flowers! I am still at it!  I remembered later on the same day, we had visited the  church of St. Peter's,  Gallicantu. It commemoraes St. Peter's denial, another story in Luke Chapter 22 and Peter's imprisonment. The imprisonment Luke writes abou

My morning tweet said it all I thought I might have got used to the churches being closed on Sunday. It turned out I wasn't.  I found myself weeping, sobbing with pain and frustration. It should have been Family Service at Coltishall. We had planned a retelling of Palm Sunday and Holy Week before the lockdown. I longed to be able to gather with our small but faithful congregation.  So we tuned in to the national Palm Sunday service. It was OK, but I cannot get alongside the celebrant sharing bread and wine with his partner. Even though they say the words of the liturgy, it does not seem either holy or communion to me. We had another go at the #pilgrimageinlockdownchallenge - Can you fit a mini- pilgrimage into the hour's exercise we are allowed?  I couldn't keep away from church - see what unfolded here ........

Destination - My Parish Church ( It's Sunday I go to church on Sunday) St. John the Baptist, Coltishall Route - a little over a mile, up the hill from the Lower Common.  I was more than pleased that visitors are staying away. Normally on a Sunday during the Easter hols, the car park and pubs would be full and all the moorings occupied by hire boats!  It dawned on me how privileged we are to live in a Norfolk village and how grateful I was for visitors staying away! Our weekly pilgrimage,  to our parish churches,  was one that Henry VIII never  suppressed. No family service today. Regretfully, I had decided to leave my donkey at home. My first stop on reaching the church,  was to find a place on the north wall where the earliest part of the has been incorporated into  a later extension. It is full on Roman bricks re-used by the 11th Century builders. I tend to kiss things when I am on pilgrimage, but today I just place my hand on one and felt myself connected acros

3rd April 2020 Destination St. Peter's Church, Belaugh Route from Coltishall NR12 7AQ to Belaugh Church   and back - through the water meadows - 2 miles. In a high place above the River Bure, St. Peter's was probably founded on a pre-Christian site. I longed to go in and 'kneel where prayer has been valid', instead I wandered around the small conservation churchyard . How wonderful that this place of death is full of life!  On the way, there was the opportunity to consider the flowers and birds. If Walsingham helps a pilgrim get alongside the meaning of Christ's incarnation within a human family and normal village street; pilgrimaging in the Broad's National Park brings to mind Jesus' life in Galilee.  I passed a boatyard and thought about the chippy Jesus mending his mate Peter's boat.

Returning from a break in Suffolk we settled into a daily routine each day begun with Morning Prayer.  I woke in the early hours of Sunday morning sleepless, restless, agitated. It occurred to me that these were typical symptoms experienced by addicts denied their fix. I recognise a certain amount of habit in my past churchgoing practice.  Perhaps we have all become a little stale and stuck in our ways. Our enforced abstinence could be a blessing in disguise. The pattern of the day we planned was not unlike the week before. In the morning thanks to BBC Radio 4 we were able to join in worship from Wesley's Chapel ; followed by a front room service led by the Archbishop of York . Again we found time to reflect as we took our hours exercise around local lanes and green ways. There were sardine sandwiches for lunch, our deliberate choice.  Since we live by the river, bread and fishes have a particular resonance.  It feels as if one is never far from Galilee in the Broads Nati