O Adonai

A nice relaxed start to the day before attending Mass at St Luke's, our local Parish Church. Sister Wendy Sanderson preached. It's the first time I've seen her since she relinquished her role as Chaplain to the city centre's clubland three years ago. After the service she told me that next year will be a big one for her, as she is getting married in the summer, then starting as a student at St Mike's for a year before ordination. It's great news indeed, particularly as Wendy was not in favour of women's ordination when she began her remarkable adventure in mission and ministry some nine years ago, with a licensing service at St John's City Parish Church, six months after I started there.

On the way to my two afternoon carol services, I called in on Fr Derek Belcher, Team Rector of Cowbridge Benefice for a chat. He's recovering from major surgery and will be out of action for a good while. He has accepted my offer to work continuously with him and colleagues in the Benefice for the duration of Lent this year, with some kind of themed course material running throughout, once we have a common notion of what's needed. I already enjoy my visits to the Vale, it will be a good creative stimulus to be there regularly during the key inspirational season of the year for Christian faith communities.
     

The first service of Lessons and Carols was at St Marychurch, five minute's drive along the ridge road from where Fr Derek lives. The place was full with forty people attending, and there were mince pies and mulled wine or tea to follow. Thankfully the temperature had not dropped below zero when darkness fell, although the sky by this time was clear and bright for my drive further south along the ridge to Flemingston Parish Church. This time the church was half full, with just eighteen people present for lessons and carols by candlelight. Since my last visit the interior of the church had been repainted and its roof timbers oiled, so the place looked beautifully fresh, and glowed in the warm light of dozens of candles.

Instead of driving home straight away in the dark, it would have been good to stop awhile in the heart of the Vale, far from any street lights, and gaze at the heavens for a few hours, but it was far too cold to do that. With the risk of sharp temperature drops never far away, I did the sensible thing and headed home cautiously across country to safety, warmth and supper of rye bread and Stilton cheese.