Home II

The remains of the original church on the site of the current Thorpe St Andrew Church

This was an emotional 'homecoming'. Thorpe St Andrew Parish Church. Just outside Norwich city centre and the resting place of my grandparents remains. It was the parish where my grandfather ministered until his death in service in September 1971. I was born in 1969 but for some reason feel a close affinity to my grandfather. I can't explain it. I don't know why, but there is something there. This was his parish church from 1959. It was the church where my parents got married, my aunt and uncle were married and I was baptised (by my grandfather). Here, in some respects, marks the start of my vocational journey (and that's another story but one not for publication).

Back in the county of my birth and of the first few years of my life. I've not been to Norfolk for some years. I was very pleased with my choice of campsite - a couple of miles from the city centre, I arrived just in time (after a speedy cycle) to make it to the cathedral in time for Evensong (although a minute or two late, I was able to slip into a seat). The cathedral and close are still vivid memories of mine and I felt on familiar territory. The joy of evensong anywhere is that it is a service where much of the speaking and singing is done by the choir and clergy. I find it a wonderful opportunity to just be still in quiet contemplation and prayer. I relaxed into the space of the cathedral for the 40/50 minutes or so.

During the service we were interrupted by someone who clearly had something to say and was somewhat agitated. They continued at the breaks in speaking and singing, so much so that when the anthem was being announced the Dean had to pause a couple of times. Then during the anthem, the individual made their way down the Quire and disappeared out of my sight. I wondered what had become of them - but I was pleased to see, as I left the cathedral, the Dean was sat with them. They were in my prayers that evening.

On Saturday I returned to the city centre, this time at a more leisurely pace, walking in. I went back to the cathedral for some prayer in one of the chapels and then for a coffee and lunch in the refectory. I have to comment on the very warm and friendly welcome of those on the desk at the entrance of the cathedral. Here is a place where there isn't a set entrance fee but a request for a donation.

I wandered to find the cell and shrine to Julian of Norwich. It was an oasis of quiet and still in the city centre. Here I spent time to reflect and pray. I had the opportunity to take a hazelnut and slip of paper with one of Julian's quotes on it:

'In this vision he showed me a little thing, the size of a hazelnut, and it was round as a ball. I looked at it with the eye of my understanding and thought "what may this be?" And it was generally answered thus: "It is all that is made." I marvelled how it might last for it seemed it might suddenly have sunk into nothing because of its littleness. And I was answered in my understanding: "It lasts and ever shall, because God loves it."

As I reflected on this and spent time in the space that was Julian's cell, there was the overwhelming sense of God's love - for all things. The blessings that I have in my own ministry and the place where I am in Bournemouth and for the people of the parish, for those I have the privilege of working with. My colleagues and friends. It's something I don't ever take for granted - and in many respects it is easy to do so. Just as we might take something like a hazelnut for granted; just as we might take anything for granted. But in this time alone, in the silence, I thanked God for all that I have; particularly in parish life and my work - the joy and fulfilment that that gives. I pray that after this time away I may return refreshed to be able to give as much as I can in my ministry.

On Sunday, Nikki and I worshipped at Thorpe St Andrew. This church were the earthly remains of my grandparents are interred and the place that holds immense significance for me. I must thank Fr James for the very warm welcome as well as the physical work in polishing the brass plaque remembering my grandfather in the sanctuary and cleaning the grave. It was a wonderful service and one that very much reminded me of Bournemouth - the buzz in the church as people greeted each other before the service and the warmth of the liturgy and Fr James' presiding. He preached an excellent sermon that I will be reflecting more on over the coming days. It will be a morning I won't forget for a while.

It was then on with our travels to Lincoln. More of that soon. In the meantime, more photos.