Friends

We had a lovely day yesterday, visiting the beautiful and amazing Valley of the Saints for a sunny, if chilly, walk with Shadow, and then afternoon tea with some friends from church, before a cosy evening in front of the fire in the snug.

Speaking of friends, do you remember 'Friends', that very popular American TV sitcom of the 1990s? Of the six main characters, my favourite was Phoebe, a quirky massage therapist - like me! - and singer - again like me! - but the likeness ends there: Phoebe is younger and thinner and prettier than I am, and maybe just a bit more ditsy?!

Now, I don't know if saints are often thought of as friends exactly, but I don't see why not, and round about now there are at least three whose days we can celebrate. They were all friends of the apostle Paul: Timothy, Titus, and yes, Phoebe. Phoebe was a leader at the church in Cenchraea, near to Corinth in Greece. Paul mentions her in his letter to the church in Rome, and it seems likely that it was she who took his letter there – no snail or e- mail in those days! Paul wrote:

I commend to you our sister Phoebe, a minister of the church at Cenchreae, so that you may welcome her in the Lord as is fitting for the saints, and help her in whatever she may require from you, for she has been a benefactor of many and of myself as well. (Romans 16.1-2)

I hope she was welcomed with open arms!

The followers of Jesus included several women that we know by name (Mary Magdalene, Mary and Martha of Bethany, Mary the wife of Clopas, Joanna, Susanna, and Salome) and I'm sure there must have been others whose names we don't know. So it's also no surprise that women were active in the early church, some serving as leaders. They included Priscilla, Chloe, Lydia, Dorcas, Apphia, Nynpha, Ammia, Junia, and, of course, Phoebe. In the second and third centuries we know of Alce, Tavia, Mercuria, Apollonia, Maris, Eulogius, Sobelus, and Thecla – great names! And there were others whose names have been lost, including the four 'prophetess' daughter of Philip, and the sister of Crescens.

How times change... and then change again! In 1880 the Glasgow Universalist church ordained Caroline Soule – the first woman to be ordained in the UK; in 1917 Constance Coltman was ordained in the Congregational Church, and in 1927 Gertrude von Petzold became a Unitarian minister. Pioneers! Today, women bishops within the Church of England can still be seen as pioneers: amazingly it was only three years ago, on 26th January 2015, that Libby Lane was consecrated as (suffragan) Bishop of Stockport. At the last count (and forgive me if I'm wrong) there are 13 women Church of England bishops in the UK: Sarah, Rachel, Christine, Alison, Ruth, Anne, Karen, Jan, Jo, Guli, Helen-Ann, June, and Libby.

Thirteen has always been my favourite number. It's the date of my birth, and the first letter of my first name... but, as regards the women bishops, that's only 13%, and it's not enough. While I'd always rather support someone because of their qualities rather than their gender, sometimes a bit of positive discrimination may (reluctantly) be needed!

So let's give thanks for the women pioneers, all the women leaders who, I pray, are beginning to redress the vast imbalances in our society – and let's give thanks too for all our women friends – especially the ditsy ones! :-)

A red red rose

Happy birthday, Robert Burns, born 1759, and celebrated with haggis and whisky tonight (The William will be in the kitchen later; his haggis is The Best!)

But while I like the veggie haggis and the whisky, I'm not all that keen on the poetry...

Give me instead a contemporary poet, such as Robin Robertson, born in the best of years, 1955. Here, only two months early, is his 'Annunciation':

Annunciation

after Fra Angelico

He has come from the garden, leaving

no shadow, no footprint in the dew.

They hold each other's gaze at the point

of balance: everything streaming

towards this moment, streaming away.

A word will set the seed

of life and death,

the over-shadowing of this girl

by a feathered dark.

But not yet: not quite yet.

How will she remember the silence

of that endless moment?

Or the end, when it all began - 

the first of seven joys

before the seven sorrows?

She will remember the aftersong

because she is only human.

One day

she'll wake with wings, or wake

and find them gone.

The road goes ever on...

Last evening I finished re-reading Rachel Joyce's novel 'The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry'. It's a great story, dark at times, but the resolution brings solace. I recommend it.

A long time ago, (and yes, in a land far away) I walked the Via Dolorosa. More recently, I've walked parts of the Pilgrim Way in Kent, the Street of the Dead and the circular Island Pilgrimage on Iona, and the Sentier Cathar in southern France. The William and I regret that we never got over the border to walk the Camino de Santiago, but we do intend to walk at least some of the Tro Breizh.

I've just come in from a very wild - and rather short! - walk with Shadow. Winter in Brittany has not so far produced any crisp white stuff, just lots of rain and even more wind! Not entirely surprisingly, there are only rarely other people out and about. Which reminded me of the first time I visited the States: Austin, Texas, to be precise. When I announced my intention one day of walking into the centre of town for a browse around the shops, my hosts looked at me as if I'd gone mad. 'Nobody walks!' they said. And they were right; nobody, except me, did. But hey, I survived, and I've done lots of walking since then.

But I do sometimes wonder if we walkers are the exception rather than the rule. I don't mean hikers, with all the right gear, striding off into the distance; just ordinary people who like a bit of fresh air and daylight on their skin. What do you think?

Speaking of Iona - another wild and windy place, but full of beauty, and the sense of being at the edge of the world: here's a song I wrote after spending a week there.

The Back of the Ocean

Hear the sound of the wind as it flies across the water,

taste the salt from the spray as it blows into your mouth;

leave the ship at the jetty as you turn toward the village:

Don't look back, don't look back; 

walk the Street of the Dead that led them home.

And the sand is white on the shoreline,

and the stones lie smooth in your hand;

but the shadow falls on ancient walls,

and your soul is lost in this land.

Kneel at the table of the Lords of the island,

lay your tired head on the pillow made of clay;

feel the flutter of a bird as it rises from the shadow:

Don't look back, don't look back;

sing your song and fly out through the door.

And the sand is white on the shoreline,

and the stones lie smooth in your hand;

but the shadow falls on ancient walls

and your heart can't understand.

Hear the tread of the dead as they fly from the chapel,

taste the sand of despair as it rises from your mouth;

see the shell of your heart as it shatters on the altar:

Don't look back, don't look back;

cast your past into the foam...

So the dawn now is rising, a new path lies before you,

and the ferryman is waiting to take you far away;

the Lords of the island will wave you from the jetty:

Don't look back, don't look back;

Travel on, the road will lead you;

Don't look back, don't look back;

Travel on, the road will bring you home.

Winds of change!

Although the weather can't make up its mind today - sunny/cloudy/rainy/windy/rainy & windy/ cloudy & windy/sunny & windy/windy & windy... - I've made up my mind to make some changes to my blogging!

As you'll see, on the right hand side of this page there are now links to my other blogs: separate blogs for the Calendar of Breton Saints (Tro Breizh), Finding Balance (seven chakra workshops), Threshold (ceremonies to mark rites of passage in our lives), and Celebrating the Year - the liturgies I've so far been posting here.

I hope the links between the blogs will work to and fro, so you can yo-yo between them - and I hope there's something of interest for you somewhere :-)
Please do let me know - they all have comment boxes, and it'd be great to get some feedback.

This primary blog will now revert to what I first intended: a chatty sort of journal of happenings, thoughts, dreams...

A bientot from changeable, beautiful Brittany!

A Red Letter Day

5^th January 2018

Yesterday had it's excitements: doing some online study I came across a link to a 'longevity calculator' - and the outcome of the questionnaire was that I should live to be 98! Wow... 36 more years - great! (providing William has 34 more years, and we both stay healthy)

But today's excitement tops that: my certificates arrived for my graduation as Doctor of Divinity and Ordination as an Interfaith Minister (which were both conferred on 6th December by a Theological Seminary in the States). Now there's a surprise for all of you who didn't know that I've been quietly but actively working towards them since we came here. In a way I think I've actually been working towards them all my life - all those years of work, service, and study, all that joy and sorrow and spiritual development... So it's amazing to have that recognised and affirmed in this way.  I know that in one way they're just pieces of paper, but the significance of them gives me a buzz. And it makes me smile not only to be a Lady, but also a Reverend Doctor! What fun :-)

It's also, at long last, a beautiful sunny day here in Brittany: so good to see the blue skies and sun again after weeks of grey clouds, rain, and constant winds.

I've begun working on a calendar of the Breton saints: it's quite a puzzle finding stuff out about some of them. We're going to go back to the wonderful Valley of the Saints soon – it's only about 30 minutes from here.

http://www.lavalleedessaints.com/