The Pensive Pilgrim

It's with some trepidation that I start to write this particular blog. The subject matter is rather sensitive, and I suspect it's inevitable that some of what I write here will distress, annoy or even offend some good friends whom I certainly have no wish to alienate.  I shall, as always, strive to write as truthfully as I can, but given that I am expressing an inner struggle which involves some complex and (I have no doubt) confused and confusing thoughts and emotions, it's possible that some of the nuances of my thinking may be expressed rather clumsily. I hope, therefore, that any readers particularly affected by the issues I raise will feel able to recognise this clumsiness for what it is, and indeed to forgive it, rather than seeing it as mere insensitivity. Nevertheless, I apologise in advance for any hurt that is unwittingly caused, and robust responses will. of course, be welcome!  Over recent days I have read some interesting and at times rather lively Facebo...

"I'm going fishing." No, I'm not quoting Saint Peter as he and the other disciples set out on their fruitless fishing expedition shortly after Jesus' death and resurrection. I'm quoting one of my parishioners who is currently living with a life-threatening condition and having to endure some rather aggressive treatments with pretty awful side effects. I shall call him Fred, although that is not his real name. Fred is understandably prone to bouts of depression, even despair, but at other times he battles bravely and defiantly with his condition. He attends Mass regularly and would be the first to say that he's a devout (Anglo) Catholic. When Fred announced that he was going fishing, it was to account for his absence from church the following Sunday. Clearly Fred finds the peace and solitude of sitting on the riverbank somehow therapeutic, and I certainly don't begrudge him that for a second. Indeed, it's not only fishing that helps Fred, but ...

"Has that young woman fainted or what? Does she need medical attention?" asked the elderly priest standing next to me with an obvious mixture of concern and bewilderment. As I looked at the recumbent figure just a few feet away from us, her arms neatly folded across her chest and a relaxed smile on her face, I confidently responded, "She's fine; she's just resting." We were part way through the service of Reconciliation and Healing that takes place in the Shrine Church at Walsingham every Sunday afternoon. The many pilgrims present - including a party from my own benefice - had been sprinkled with water from the Holy Well and were now receiving the laying-on-of-hands and anointing with oil. I was one of four priests standing just below the High Altar offering the latter ministry. Despite that old priest's consternation, the Shrine clergy themselves were clearly unfazed by the incident, and in the sacristy afterwards I overheard only one rather snid...

When we introduced our monthly 'New Fire Mass' at All Saints Church about two years ago, reactions were inevitably mixed. Some members of our congregation instantly loved it, others hated it, whilst the majority weren't sure and adapted to it over time. Fortunately, the fact that the liturgy remained firmly Catholic seems to have held these three groups together. Two years on, I think it's fair to say that 'New Fire' has become an integral and valued part of our monthly round of worship. To many, it's simply a more contemporary 'take' on the Eucharist with lively modern music (or 'a jazzed up Mass' as one old timer calls it). A smaller group of worshippers, however, recognise that there is much more to it than that. This group (which is steadily growing) is gradually embracing a Charismatic spirituality and opening itself to the power and gifts of the Holy Spirit. In Lent groups over the last couple of years where subjects such as praying i...

When I was an ordinand at Chichester Theological College, all students were required (quite rightly) to have a Spiritual Director. The Staff Chapter kindly provided a list of local - and not so local - clergy who might fulfil this role. I duly selected a name off the list - a name which meant absolutely nothing to me other than the fact that he was Vicar of a nearby parish - and in due course met with the priest concerned. I found him to be a rather cold fish. I couldn't get any sense of what made him 'tick' and, most important of all, I had a sneaking suspicion that he wouldn't be terribly gay-friendly. As I was struggling to make sense of how my sexuality and vocation fitted together, it was important to me to have a Spiritual Director with whom I could be honest  about such things. (Most of my fellow students, I must add, told me that this was absurd and that I shouldn't tell anyone about my sexuality. It was the early 1980s, and 'Don't ask; don't t...

"You've come back. How lovely". This was how I was greeted by a number of people at this year's On Fire Mission Conference at High Leigh. As last year was my first attendance there, I was impressed and moved that people remembered me. This year I was accompanied by a parishioner and a fellow priest from a neighbouring diocese - both first-timers - and I was delighted to observe how warmly they too were welcomed. On Fire Mission feels very much like a family, and it's good to  see that there's a genuine readiness to welcome new people to the family, thus avoiding becoming a clique. With a good idea of what to expect, and having spent the last year 'growing into' my newly found identity as a Charismatic Catholic, I knew that this year's conference wouldn't have the same seismic spiritual and emotional impact as its predecessor. This proved to be true, but the experience was nevertheless profoundly joyful and renewing. I was particularly str...

The following was originally presented as an address at Compline during Holy Week 2019. It was preceeded by a reading from Matthew 27:27-50. I'm aware that some will find its message contentious!  Some of you will be familiar with the old TV Series ‘Rev’ which told the story of the Revd Adam Smallbone, Vicar of what would doubtless be described in today’s Church of England as a ‘failing church’ in the East End of London – ‘St Saviour in the Marshes’.  Unlike its rather absurd precursor, ‘The Vicar of Dibley’ , ’Rev’ was shot-through with a realism that was at times comedic and at others poignant and even tragic, with which many clergy identified only too well.    In one particular episode, Fr Adam is taking a school assembly and asks a question. I can’t remember exactly what the question is, but one child puts up his or her hand and says quite mistakenly, ‘Is the answer Jesus?’ ‘No’ Adam replies with a certain degree of irritation, ‘It isn’t Jesus’. B...