Yesterday was a day to do the weekly grocery shopping, and enjoy sitting out in our sun-trap of a garden, in the afternoon, as more flowers blossom in the spring warmth. How fortunate we are! I've made the effort to follow tweets from clergy I know at the Diocesan Clergy School in Santiago de Compostela to know what they are doing. Best of all, retired Dean of Durham Michael Sadgrove is there giving a series Bible Studies on Pilgrimage themes and posting them on his blog. I'm so glad that these are not just available to clergy but to anyone interested, wanting to share indirectly in this experience. You can find these addresses and more of his sermons here at his blog site. They are long, but well worth the effort of reading.
This set me thinking about the pilgrimages I have made at different stages of my life. When I was a student, the Russian Orthodox classic 'Way of a Pilgrim' was a seminal book for me. I visited Llandaff, as a teenager, then Glastonbury, Canterbury and Taize as a Uni student, then Walsingham, St David's and Rome in my early ministry years, then Damascus and Aleppo (in search of Ephraim the Syrian). plus Jerusalem and Bethlehem in mid-life. All the earlier ones were made with groups of people. Those in the MIddle East I made alone, but went to stay with Christians living there.
In retirement I've spent time travelling to places and passing time in locum ministry with Christians wherever I am sent. Early on this meant travelling to parishes within the Diocese, thirty of them in total. Then living in Spain, pastoring during interregnums. This has been a kind of pilgrimage, engaging not so much with sacred stories and places, but with 'living stones'. I look at sacred edifices wherever I go, with pleasure, but rejoice not just in great ancient architecture, but in the ministry of welcome they offer to visitors. Last year in Malaga for Semana Santa was one of the strongest experiences of my life, journeying through the story of Christ's passion on the city streets, juxtaposing the story with everyday life. What would I make of the Camino de Santiago, I wonder, now that I am so familiar with Spanish Catholicism, its history and culture? What would my journey be like? Where would it start, or end?
This morning I celebrated the Eucharist at St Catherine's, and revisited the story of St Matthias with a congregation of seven. In the afternoon I walked over to Tesco's on Western Avenue in search of some file folders as I strive to get my domestic admin tidier. Earlier I spent an hour shredding bank statements up to the time I retired. All the utility bills are there, but jumbled together, and this adds to the effort of referring to them when needed even if it is only once in a few years.
We had a six monthly water rate bill this morning. It's increased by twenty pounds, not because of an increase in prices, but due to an increase in consumption, caused by all the extra linen washing that managing my ailment has generated. And when I think of all the medical waste produced from daily domestic dressing changes, these days thanks to sterile disposable everything, it makes me realise how many aspects of illness are resource hungry in this day and age. As was ever thus I suppose.
Michael Sadgrove's third talk was about Pilgrimage and Pain. It resonated with me because of what I have been through this past nine months. I recognise with gratitude that everyday coping, trying to live a normal life and exercise a ministry with pain, discomfort, vulnerability inconvenience, relying heavily on others, has taught me things I would never have understood before, or just taken for granted. I'm so much more grateful to be alive and occasionally useful than I might ever have been before. When I'm really better, it would do me good to take time out and re-count my blessings properly, but where and how?
No comments:
Post a Comment