A Simple Soul in Walsingham

 "I don't mind you going, but don't you dare come back with any fancy ideas."

So said my Vicar when I, as a young member of his congregation, told him that I was planning to join the parish pilgrimage to the Shrine of our Lady of Walsingham.  The pilgrimage itself was, I suppose. something of an act of rebellion. Although the parish had a strong Anglo-Catholic tradition, it's fair to say that at this particular point in its history (the early 1980s) it was rather more 'High Church' than 'Catholic' (though it has since moved back 'up the candle'), and our Vicar - a very dour Yorkshireman - was clearly not an enthusiastic devotee of  Our Lady, still less 'England's Nazareth'.  It was a couple of members of the congregation who bravely organised and led the Pilgrimage, despite the incumbent's obvious disapproval, and I remain eternally grateful to them.

That first weekend visit to Walsingham introduced me to the Catholic faith in its fulness. The celebrations of Mass, the processions, Benediction  of the Blessed Sacrament, along with the wise spiritual counsel of the then Priest Administrator, all helped to make this pilgrimage feel like a homecoming. and also confirmed in me a growing sense of a priestly vocation.

Not surprisingly, I then became a regular visitor to Walsingham, and always found it a place of profound peace, healing and renewal - although the annual National Pilgrimage was never my thing. (Perhaps it had too much of the feel of  an ecclesiastical jamboree which seemed at odds with the prevailing ethos of the sleepy Norfolk village.)      

When I was training for ordination at Chichester Theological College, groups of students had to choose a place to go on retreat. I was quite envious of the group who opted to go to Walsingham, following the suggestion of a student who said, "I am but a simple soul" (actually he was anything but), "Our Lady went to Walsingham, and so, I think, should we."  

For me - as for many others - my relationship with Walsingham became rather more complex following the Church of England's decision to ordain women as priests. Initially, I took the 'party-line', seeing this development as an unwelcome innovation that was contrary to a Catholic  understanding of the Church, and damaging to our ecumenical relations with Rome. But over the years, my views changed, and the rigid traditionalist stance of  Walsingham became a problem for me. I still loved the place and the faith that it expressed, but I felt that I needed to stand in solidarity with my women priest friends whose ministry would not be accepted there, despite many of them having a profoundly Catholic spirituality, and a deep devotion to Our Lady.  

It was one of these female priest friends who encouraged me several years ago to return to Walsingham.

"I have no choice, but you could go there and even join the Society of Our Lady of Walsingham and be a Priest Associate" she said. "Let's face it, change will be even less likely if we and our supporters just stay away."

So it was that I did indeed become a Priest Associate. I began to attend the annual Priests and Deacons Pilgrimage each  February and joyfully rediscovered the riches of this very special place. I then started to take groups of parishioners on pilgrimage and have always enjoyed seeing how much the visit has meant to them and how in many cases it has enriched their spiritual lives.

Today, Walsingham still represents the faith that I love and the spirituality that feeds me, but the exclusion from active liturgical ministry there of so many of my fellow priests (both women and, more recently, men ordained by a female bishop) saddens me and often shocks parishioners who are instinctively inclusive as well as devotedly Catholic. I inevitably feel somewhat conflicted whenever I go there. 

There is a searing irony in the fact that the warm relationship that exists today between Walsingham's  Anglican and Roman Catholic Shrines is an encouraging sign of unity between the two churches, while the Anglican shrine itself is inevitably seen by many within the Church of England as a focus of disunity and exclusion.

Perhaps it is inevitable that so holy a place should be beset by division and pain. The Devil, after all, must hate places of peace, healing and reconciliation where people can draw closer to God. The challenge, as with all division within the church is to disagree well and courteously. As an 'Affirming Catholic' (if I must use a label) who is a Priest Associate who values good Catholic liturgy and is devoted to Mary, I understand and respect those who take a traditionalist view of priesthood; but my own faith journey - or should that be pilgrimage? - has led me to a point where I disagree with them, and I do hope and pray that some way will be found of one day making the shrine more inclusive.  

It's good to see women priests visiting Walsingham -  some even on retreat - but I'm not sure how genuinely welcome and respected they feel. I will leave them to comment on that. Certainly as a priest who isn't a member of the traditionalist Society of  St Wilfrid and St Hilda, I often have a sense of being accepted as part of an outer circle, rather than an inner circle. I can live with that, and in the meantime Walsingham retains, as I suspect it always will, a very special place in the heart of this particular simple soul.