Christmas at St. Cuthbert's Church, Shotley Bridge

 

Christmas at St. John's Church, Castleside

 

Coming Soon

 

A Holy Door – and where it leads…

Our parish magazine, from which this article is taken, is appearing a bit later than we might have wanted – in large part because I was away when I’d normally be editing it. Finally, in the second half of October, I was able to take two weeks of my annual leave – a rather late summer holiday!

Fortunately, it was pretty warm where I went – back to Italy. You can fly direct to Bergamo, near Milan, from Newcastle if you’re prepared to get up early enough, but we stayed first in Arezzo in Tuscany, then moving on to Rome. Just planning the rail travel entailed was quite exciting – and then travelling at speeds of up to 298 kilometres per hour on the Frecciarossa train. How is it that other countries manage to have an infrastructure that works? – though admittedly our first train was 10 minutes late into Florence so that we missed our rather tight connection there (but the online ticket allowed you to change the connecting train from your phone which we did).

There’s so much that I could say about the holiday – so much that I need to reflect on myself. Should I have gone back to Rome when I was last there less than a year ago? Back in November 2024 there was a lot going on with building works in the city – most of it in preparation for the Jubilee Year which is being celebrated throughout 2025. The Jubilee itself had pushed prices up with more people than ever travelling there, but I wanted to see just what had been accomplished and to experience something of the celebrations. So I was glad that we were able to find somewhere reasonably priced. It was an apartment in an area I’d never been to before, quite a long way from the centre – and entailed travel via two different Metro lines. But having said that it was very near the station from which we emerged, and there were lots of places to eat well and far more cheaply than elsewhere.

We arrived in Rome at the same time as the King, who was there to pray with the Pope in the Sistine Chapel. We weren’t invited! Nor was a friend who works at the Anglican Centre in Rome. We met up with her on the morning of the service. She was actually invited to a service later in the day when the King was to be given a special seat at the Basilica of St. Paul outside the Walls. I’m sorry there wasn’t more coverage of that service which was about re-forging the connection of our country and the monarchy with the Benedictine Community which maintains the life of the Papal Basilica.

But we didn’t have an invitation there either! However, the next day, we took ourselves off to St. Peter’s Basilica in the Vatican City. The previous year, the queues had been so long that we hadn’t even tried to get in. This year, there was a massive crowd approaching St. Peter’s Square, but it was well-managed and before long we were through the security checks and in the line for the Basilica. We decided to enter via the Grotto where so many of the Popes are buried. I think the route might have changed, and it was the best visit I’ve paid. We emerged into the church right by the central altar. So many people – but a wonderful sense of prayer. More than that, the route through the Basilica directed visitors to the Holy Door – opened only in Jubilee Years for pilgrims. There was no sense of a rush as we re-entered the church to find ourselves by Michaelangelo’s Pieta, and then chapels and altars set aside for prayer.

On our final day in Rome we went to the Basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore where Pope Francis is buried. Again, huge numbers – but well-handled. All are directed through another Holy Door with bronze reliefs of Christ and the Blessed Virgin Mary. As I walked through I saw that Jesus’ hands extended from the door . It was a natural thing for me to place my hand in his - and what a sense I had of the mercy of God we find in him! So many others had done the same, the dull bronze polished bright by all who had held - and been held - by that hand. It’s a mercy we all need to share… MJ

In the midst of life…

September has been a month of mixed emotions. It’s so good to have been able to celebrate the 175th Anniversary of the Consecration of St. Cuthbert’s Church – and we did it on the exact day, 12th September, led in celebration by Bishop Frank White. It was a terrific occasion, so wonderfully prepared for with imagination, skill and much hard work. 

All that we have tried to do in attending to the fabric problems of the church this year has been a testimony to our people’s determination that this building should continue to stand here as a witness for the glory of God – and for celebration and service to others by his people. Much work has been unseen – not least so many days of painstaking labour by Dave Short in renovating the church doors and yet again attending to the peeling paintwork; through all the preparations in decorating the church so beautifully with flowers and with displays depicting the work of so many groups which link us with our wider community; and then the massive work of catering for the Anniversary Reception and Harvest Lunch – with an Autumn Fair thrown into the mix! 

The end result was exhilaration and exhaustion! Thank you to everyone who played their part!

But at the same time we could not but help feel a sense of loss. Claire Bean died just a matter of days before the celebrations began. She has been so much part of our lives – together with Ian, Rachel and Stephen. Their response has been quite remarkable. I was glad that the bell-ringing with which the Anniversary Weekend began was a quarter peal in memory of Claire. I asked if it was going to be “half-muffled” – but the answer was “No. Claire wanted the bells to ring out for all to hear.” And of course the ringing continued – not only before services, but also with a full peal, conducted by Stephen (and Rachel’s first) in record time, and a “date touch,” 1850 changes rung to mark the year of the church’s consecration. In between Stephen went off to Hull for an additional peal!

There are things in life – and in the face of death – which make us question how to make sense of everything. This last month has been one of those times. There’s been the death of Malcolm Bates as well, with all the waiting which Nora and her family have faced. And inevitably the looking back which we have done is a reminder of the losses in which we all share.

But that same looking back also shows that loss is the other side of “gift” – what we have been given by those who have gone before, whose legacy we have inherited, whose lives we have shared. 175 years of the lives of those who built and maintained our church – through all our struggles, but also joys. All those meetings where we have sought the way forward, the search for the resources we need, the encouragement that has grown from a shared life, the worship offered, and our deepening in prayer. And then most recently in those recent bereavements. I reflected on how Claire faced death at much too early an age. Much of the work in that was accomplished simply by the life she lived, and the love and friendship shared. She showed us how important purpose is – and that it’s more than calculation. How to die is very much the same matter as how to live.

This is all rather complex, yet at the same time quite simple. I realise I have more work to do on how I live – and how I face my own mortality. It’s something we all need to work at, though mindful of the grace, mercy and love of God. I hope we can receive all that we find in our hearts after this month that is passed – and do so with gratitude. Martin Jackson

St. Cuthbert's celebrates 175 Years!

 

Our Father - praying with Jesus

 Homily for Trinity 6 - Year C – Eucharist – 27.vii.2025

(Genesis 18.20-32; Colossians 2.6-19; Luke 11.1-13)

Today’s Gospel reading addresses that most basic of questions: “How should I pray?” And Jesus gives two answers. The first is simply a prayer you can use… and it’s the Lord’s Prayer. The second answer is an encouragement to go on praying, be persistent just as you’d go on asking for something you really need. 

We find Jesus teaching the Lord’s Prayer in two different places in the Gospels. It’s St. Luke’s Gospel that we hear today, and we’re told that on this occasion “Jesus was praying in a certain place.” We don’t know just where, but he’s with the disciples, and it seems they recognise something special in what he is doing. The fact that Jesus is praying and the example of that prayer is what prompts them to ask, “teach us to pray.” 

The other occurrence is in St. Matthew’s Gospel where it’s part of the three chapters which we call the Sermon on the Mount. Actually, it falls right in the middle of what Jesus says. Jesus has been saying that we shouldn’t make a show of our religion. Don’t make a big thing of how you pray; don’t stand out in practising piety or advertising what you give or do because of your religion; don’t think that long prayers and petitions in public are what God wants. God already knows what you need. That doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t ask him. But it will affect the way you pray. And then Jesus goes on, “Pray in this way…” And what follows is the Lord’s Prayer. “Our Father…” 

The way the prayer starts tells us something important. Our Father… We’re not praying alone. It’s not just me on my own. Prayer is not just about me. And it’s prayer with Jesus – prayer to our Father, and his.

‘Lord, teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples.’ That’s the request that the disciples of Jesus make in today’s Gospel reading. It’s not just that they have seen other people praying and been impressed. They see Jesus pray. The disciple who asks, “Teach us to pray,” does so when he’s with Jesus – when he’s seen how Jesus has taken the trouble and time to go to that “certain place” with the definite intention of praying. It’s when Jesus has finished praying that the disciple makes his request. That’s a reminder to us that to pray is to learn what it is to be Christ-like. Jesus prays, and we can pray and grow with him. By prayer we can grow to be like him. How we address God tells us that prayer is a shared calling with Jesus: “Father…” When we address God, we address him as Jesus addressed him. God is our Father, and Jesus is our brother in prayer. 

 “Our Father…” We speak to God as a member of our own family - or rather we come each as a member of his family, and we come to him as the one we expect to listen to us. There’s a familiarity in the way we address God which distinguishes Christian prayer from that of other religions. Jesus uses the prayer, calls God his Father, and we are let in on the same terms. But then there’s that second phrase, “hallowed be thy name.” We’re invited to recognise the holiness of God. Prayer is not a matter to be taken for granted, and God is not to be taken for granted. If there’s one quality above all that is deficient in the life of the Church today, it’s a sense of holiness. Religion is not just to cheer us up. It’s not about showing other people that our faith is better than theirs. It’s not about having faith in the face of adversity. It’s not about feeling “spiritual.” It is about a sense of the sacred. Unless we recognise a holiness which comes from God, a holiness to which we may aspire, we remain earth-bound and dragged down by the very issues which we need to address in our prayer.

Turning to prayer is not about being an escapist. “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done…” is to be our prayer. Prayer for the coming of the Kingdom is prayer that God’s will and purpose be revealed. His will and purpose are to be made real in the world which we inhabit here and now. We need to want what God wants, and prayer can show us the way. Prayer is not about God keeping us safe. Prayer entails confronting those issues which might seem to deny the reality of God’s power. Natural disaster, war, poverty, injustice. Widespread fear, violence, the millions of refugees fleeing their own countries – or stuck and starving in Gaza. None of this is God’s will. When we address these things in prayer, then we know that we are beginning to look at the world with his eyes. 

And that’s only to make a start. We want to pray that we may see as God sees, but we need to start somewhere. Abraham’s prayer for the people of Sodom might seem to be fruitless, but perhaps he needs to do all that arguing with God so that he can understand the situation for the first time. And Jesus tells those who will listen that prayer at its most simple is about asking. “Ask, and it will be given to you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you.” Anyone who has had a cat knows something about this. The most frequently made request in any household with a cat is miaow. Invariably your cat will turn up on the wrong side of a door or window. And her miaow is a sort of prayer: let me in; let me out; feed me; brush me; stroke me. Jesus says that our prayers are answered in the way that you give in to the friend who bangs on your door in the middle of the night asking for help - even if you don’t want to, you’ll get up because of your friend’s sheer persistence. Cat owners know about that - don’t let them in the room they want to enter and they’ll tear up your carpet; don’t let them in or out at unearthly hours and they’ll keep you awake with their aptly named caterwauling. But while they demand your attention they might just have to learn that they can’t always get what they want. And so it is for us. The outcome of prayer may not be what you expected - but to find out you need to begin by asking, seeking and knocking at the door.

Very few of us manage to get our lives of prayer worked out as well as we might hope. That’s why some sort of structure helps. Pick a time when you can pray – and try to stick to it. As someone said to me, early mornings can work best before you find your good intentions being squeezed out by everything else that just happens. But other times can work. Whether you pray just once a day, or twice, three times or more, the important thing is Make sure you turn up and do it! Prayer depends not on our enthusiasms and whims but upon discipline, which involves the right use of time, a structure, content (Psalms, Bible readings, shared prayer), and - like Jesus in today’s Gospel - being “in a certain place.” 

And always prayer should be more than we expect. Start out on the discipline of prayer and new elements of prayer will emerge. Perhaps in our prayer as a congregation we need to recognise` that. We expect prayer for the sick and the departed - quite rightly, though there are certain issues about what qualifies you for the sick list and how you get taken off it! But what about other areas of life? What about those for whom we don’t regularly pray: those who’ve been baptised here, those preparing for marriage or trying to get through or over a bad one… issues which it doesn’t occur to us have a place in our prayers. 

There’s a lot there for any of us to address. But it all stems from the simple resolution to make a new start in prayer. And we can do that by taking seriously the invitation which Jesus makes to use that prayer he gives us, “Our Father”… and to ask, search and knock on the door.