I celebrated the Eucharist at St Catherine's this morning, and then after an early lunch Clare, Rachel and I drove to Bristol to visit Amanda. She told us how the care agency which now looks after her is managed and staffed by Muslim care workers, who have been most attentive to her needs, so that now she gets taken in her wheelchair to the Parish Eucharist in St Stephen's Southmead on Sunday mornings. Her carer sits at the back or goes outside during the service, and pops in now and then to check she's OK. The congregation is friendly and welcoming towards them both, and having a burka wearing care worker in church regularly offers a low key opportunity for growing respect and trust in an area not exactly renowned for tolerance.
Amanda, always outgoing and curious, has been learning from her carers about muslim culture and faith practices, as well as explaining her own. She has given them permission, should they need to while they are with her, to take a few moments time out for prayer in another room. Through this kind of everyday inter-faith dialogue, grass roots progress can be made in learning how best to live together with our differences.
At Rachel's request on our return trip we drive across the old Severn Bridge and visited Chepstow, where we lived for seven years when she was in primary school. We walked down the Dell to the Castle, along the west bank of the river Wye and back up through the older streets of the town. It was no surprise that Rachel should find a chippie open and buy a bag of chips to share. Chips over in Chepstow (aka 'Chipstow') was a regular treat when we lived in St Paul's Bristol, and crossed the bridge to visit the Wye Valley for some respite from the concrete jungle. Happy days back then over, thirty years ago.
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