Reflection mirrored in the font at Salisbury Cathedral; photo by Gill Henwood.
The above photo is a detail of the amazing font in Salisbury Cathedral showing the stillness of the water reflecting the Cathedral interior in a mirror image. At each corner the silent pool contrasts with running water flowing into a grill below. Gill’s reflection is inspired by her visit and experience.
The Font, Salisbury
In the dark still waters Light caught my eye, Unexpected, In the dusky cathedral.
Blazing winter sun Pierced Sarum glass, Bejewelling Black, mirrored.
Christening: Candlelight In our darkness Shining, Inspiring breath.
Evensong, Choristers “Lighten our Darkness We beseech thee, O Lord.”
[Gill Henwood. February 2025]
*Sarum is the name of an earlier settlement near Salisbury, which became known as New Sarum. The building of the Cathedral began in 1221.
Thank you to my friend Gill Henwood who has sent me this photo of a Rowan Tree in the Lake District. There are a number of legends associated with the Rowan. They are are known as Mountain Ash because they often take root in mountainous areas, but they are unrelated to Ash Trees. The Rowan was cited by Plato, the pre-Christian Greek Philosopher who mentions it in in his Symposium They have a place in Celtic mythology and were sacred to Druids who saw them as portals between death and rebirth. It was often planted near homes because ancient belief associated it with the qualities of courage, wisdom and protection, which they treasured. Early Welsh Christianity refers to it as the Tree of Life because it was thought that the Cross of Christ was carved from the wood of the Rowan, the blood red berries being symbolic of the blood of Christ. This thought leads me to offer this little Pondering.
ROWAN.
There are those who say your berries, rich and red, remind them of Jesus’s blood falling as deep droplets; beckoning us to the Cross and drawing us into the immensity of God’s Love for us.
Others, though, see the berries as baubles on the Tree of Incarnation; decorating the Manger, drawing us to the Child who sparkles for us, beaming with the immensity of God’s Love for us.
Both are right!
[Mr G. 17th September 2024] Photo by Gill Henwood.
Special places, special people thoughts on St. Aidan’s Day. 31st August 2024
In many journeys of faith there are special places that have spoken to people vividly about God. The early Christians called these the ‘thin places’ where the membrane which separates our world from the world of heaven is so thin that it is easy for heaven’s spirit to burst through, catching us up in a breathtaking experience of God’s nearness. For me one very special ‘thin’ place will always be the Holy Island of Lindisfarne, off the Northumbrian coast between Bamburgh and Berwick-upon-Tweed. It was to this island that St. Aidan came in 635AD. He nearly didn’t come at all! When King Oswald won back his Kingdom from the pagan king of Mercia, he immediately sent to Iona for a monk to teach his people Christianity. Oswald had spent many years in exile on Iona and there embraced the Christian faith. His desire was that his people would also find a love for Christ. The Abbot of Iona sent a monk who soon fell foul of the local people whom he branded as barbarians and un-teachable. Returning to Iona he told his brethren what he thought and a gentle monk admonished him. “I think, brother, that you gave them the meat of the gospel when what they needed first was milk.” Wise words but as so often happens, those who criticize (however gently) must be prepared to serve. Aidan was sent to Northumbria. There he set up his base in the place which, twice a day became an island—Lindisfarne. Here he built a monastery and founded a school in which he taught 12 boys amongst whom were the future St. Cedd, apostle to Essex and his brother, Chad, Apostle to Mercia. They were part of a great mission which was to take the Christian Gospel throughout the North and the Midlands and to Essex. Because, initially, Aidan couldn’t speak the language, King Oswald went with him on his missionary journeys to act as interpreter. One of the earliest examples of the co-operation between Church and State!
Lindisfarne remained a Christian centre until Viking raids led to the withdrawal of the monks. Today it is once again a centre both of pilgrimage and prayer. The local Church set up a Christian house for pilgrims known as Marygate House and it was here, in 1974 that I first came across Aidan and the spirit of the Celtic saints. I have returned many times since and more than once I have experienced the sense of God’s nearness and presence. It truly is a ‘thin’ place. Some, reading this will know exactly what I mean and will have their own ‘thin’ or special places (associated often with special holy Christians). They are places where faith comes alive in a unique and special way. Such experiences carry us through the more mundane parts of our Christian journey. What marks such places is that they are, in the words of the poet T.S.Eliot, places ‘where prayer has been valid’ – where prayer has consecrated them to God. It strikes me that we should not have to travel far to find such places. There are lots and lots of special people whose prayer has made valid places where God can be found. Whilst people like St. Aidan seem to be extra-holy, he would probably argue that he did nothing that all Christians, all believers in God, can do—which is to allow God to love them until they are on fire with God’s love. That can be true for all of us and where it is, then we become the ‘thin’ place where others can find God.
[Mr G]
St Aidan window by Leonard Evetts, Lindisfarne Church. photo by Mr. G.
Aidan
You came on the flow tide blown in, full of hope and zeal. You carried the milk of the Gospel but in your satchel, the firm, solid Good News waited to be heard.
The waves revealed the pilgrim way to Lindisfarne, for its first journeying companion of Christ. Those waves a sign of what your Lord achieved through you: first, lapping the hearts of those aspiring to know God, then rushing in, hurrying to swamp the land with love, a sea teeming with joy and hope and message. *
Milk, then meat. Quiet ripples then mighty waters of God’s love and grace.
You were sent, Apostle to the North. You came: a gentle breeze inspiring others, awakening in them the wind of the Spirit. Because of you, they stormed the Gospel message, opening others to grace and truth, to joy and love.
Marking the 80th anniversary of D-Day, the ‘Standing with Giants’ installation featuring 1,475 silhouettes of soldiers, soldiers and airmen, as well as two female nurses, is coming to an end. The installation was completed in mid-April, and will be removed from 1 September. It is a dramatic depiction of the D Day Landings.(Photo by Piers Northam)
Last week, whilst staying with a friend in Falaise, I was able to share in the commemorations of the 80th Anniversary of the Battle of Normandy. Known locally as the ‘Battle for the Falaise Gap.’ or ‘in military terms, the ‘Falaise pocket’. Just outside the town over 20,000 German soldiers made a final stand. On August 17th when Falaise was fully liberated by Canadian, British and Polish troops they were able to move on to the decisive battle in the Normandy campaign. It had taken since D Day on the 6th June to reach Falaise. By the evening of 21st August the German army was surrounded. About 50,000 managed to escape but an estimated 50,000 were trapped. These all died. It had been a costly battle with heavy losses on the Allied side. By August 30, just a few days later, Paris was liberated and the remnants of the German Army retreated across the Seine.
D Day memorial at the recently opened British Normandy Memorial, a joint commemoration with the people of France.
Normandy Beaches.
You came as shooting stars discharging fury from your boats, intent on our death. We defended land which was not ours, uncertain of our rights, but fear consumed us; made us fight back.
We no longer fought for an ideology, nor for the immortality of a band of evil despots. We no longer cared for that, as we showed the whites of our blinkered eyes. We might yet win but all around us death claimed our emptying souls.
And yet, we killed easily at first. You were wading up mud-soggy beaches. Your dying bodies filled with our shrapnel , wept blood into the earth. And then, we too began to die, our blood mingling with yours – the earth also claiming us in that moment of killing.
We stopped being enemies; not yet friends, but lesson-bearers certainly – for goodness, honour, freedom, hope and peace – dare we say, love? United in a vital task.
Send our message to Russia, Ukraine, Israel, Gaza, to Iran, America, China – to all the traumatized places where they need the humility of liberation.
Mr G's Ponderings 