Annunciation licensing at Llancarfan

For the second day running, yesterday I had a Eucharist in the morning at Saint Augustine's Penarth, followed by funeral at St David's Ely with burial at Western cemetery. A smaller and humbler affair today. In the evening I drove out to join colleagues and congregation at Llancarfan for the licensing of Fr Derek Belcher as the new priest in charge of three rural parishes, part of the South Vale group, that stretches down to Rhoose on the coast. 

The village was crowded with parked cars, and the beautifully floodlit church was full. Archbishop Barry preached well, reflecting on the power of words, a subject dear to my heart. A somewhat different order of service was used for the occasion, focussing as much on the dedication of God's people to be the church in mission in their local community. It used the 'Seven Sacred Spaces' typology drawing on imagery taken from monastic foundations, quite appropriate in this context, as Llancarfan was one of the early Celtic monastic centres of learning in Wales in the sixth century. This uses seven key places and words associated with them:

The Cell - place of personal Prayer

The Chapel - place of common Worship

The Chapter - place of Decision making

The Cloister - place of Meeting

The Garden - place of Work

The Refectory  - place of Sharing (hospitality)

The Library - place of Study

It's an appealing and commendable way of thinking about the nature of the church, what it is and what it does. It does however leave me with some measure of disquiet. There are at least two other important places in any monastic domain, which say a great deal about the nature of any and every Christian enterprise. The ones of most concern to me are

The Infirmary - place of healing. I think this speaks for itself.

 

The Workshop - where 'laborare est orare' (as St Benedict says), where wood may be fashioned into furniture, clay into pots, iron forged, chemicals refined for other uses, literature printed, icons painted, foodstuffs prepared and preserved, not to mention the digital modern equivalents.

Yes, the Garden is delineated as the place of work. Agriculture/husbandry are both important dimensions of human labour, albeit in partnership with God, who does the hard part, creating the environment and making things grow. Sure we intervene and tweak things creatively to improve productivity, but God gives the increase. The Workshop is a place where things are made from raw materials by human imagination and effort. Not to celebrate this dimension of the life of the church, let alone every individual member playing their part in the current labour market, (however they do that), I believe is a mistake, in a scheme that claims to represent all the endeavours of Christian discipleship.

It was in church, staring us in the face there. Mediaeval frescoes on the south west aisle wall, currently covered in scaffolding while conservation work is carried out on such historic treasures. It's not gardening! In fact, more of an effort to minimise intrusion by elements that could grow on those precious surfaces and further damage their content. That's a special form of creative labour, that might have offered a clue to the importance of presenting 'work' as an expression of what as Christians we're called to value most.

Oh yes, talking of sacred spaces, I didn't mention the kitchen, a sacred space for mission, where transmission of hospitable culture begins with creativity, equal to the role of the refectory in its significance. And what about the cemetery? Place of remembering past dimensions of community, and through its many messages, a place of comfort and reassurance for the future. How can we live and serve as witnesses of Christ, as if we existed without eternal hope?

It doesn't alliterate quite so well, but I'd rather settle for eleven sacred spaces ...

I can see it's more unwieldy to stretch the number of reflection and decision points by another four items, but undervaluing elements of life as disciples of Christ in mission could be misleading, or unintentionally make the enterprise seem less holistic than it is really meant to be.

   

Countryside discovery

We walked into town yesterday morning to buy some cushions at John Lewis. Clare found material to match the new front room curtains, and has been busy sewing covers this past few days. The result is pleasing to the eye. In the afternoon we walked our usual route across to Blackweir bridge into Bute Park for a cup of tea at Ty Haf before returning home. Then I drove out to Ely for a bereavement visit and prepare with the family the funeral service I'll be taking on Tuesday, one of two  I'll be taking this coming week.

This morning I drove to Llantriddyd church to celebrate the Eucharist. It's the first time in a month I've had Sunday duties to perform. Last time I was here, the snowdrops and crocuses were out. This time the churchyard was a sea of daffodils and primroses. There was a new grave too, the orgnist's husband having died and buried there recently. Bravely philosophically, she was back at the organ console about her normal duties, surrounded by caring loving friends and fellow worshippers.There was a congregation of twenty, quite remarkable for a small country church which isn't in a village.

From Llantriddyd I drove along the ridge road to Llancarfan for the second Eucharist of the morning, where the church is in the middle the village. There was a congregation of just a dozen. It's a church in which some mediaeval frescoes have been recovered from beneath layers of whitewash on the wall of the south aisle. There's scaffolding in place at the moment as conservation work is in progress. It's rather a nuisance, given that Fr Derek Belcher's induction service will take place here on Wednesday evening. The building is however more than double the size of Llantriddyd with a broad central aisle and choir, revealing its monastic past. As early as 650AD, St Cadoc founded the first monastery here. The centre of learning he established didn't survive the Norman invasion, but the church was rebuilt around 1200AD. It has few stained glass windows, so Spring sunshine lit the sanctuary and gave an added measure of serenity to the occasion.

Not knowing the area very well, I drove back by a different route south towards Barry, to explore the countryside, along lanes both broad and narrow lines with well trimmed hedges. The occasional view over a ridge revealed a rolling wrinkled landscape of small wooded valleys with upland fields of open pasture and occasional houses, all well spread out. The villages are tucked into the valleys, not easily visible from above, so it give the impression of being a slightly remote area, hidden behind the coastal plain of the Severn estuary, more so than the broader expanse of the Central and Western parts of the Vale of Glamorgan.  Once I found a main road back into Cardiff, I was surprised at how much traffic there was for a Sunday lunch time, and the last part of the journey home took me longer than expected, after those quiet country roads.

We went for another stroll around Thompson's Park in the afternoon, enjoying the lengthening hours of daylight and sunshine. The magnolia tree by the pond is now revealing its glorious blossom in the most exotic of colours.