Sunday Eucharist for St. Peter & St. Paul

What was I letting myself in for?

Anticipating Church Re-opening

Parish Eucharist - 21 June 2020

Parish Eucharist - 14 June 2020

Eucharist for the First Sunday after Trinity - exploring our calling and what we need to fulfil it; with prayers for the people of all our communities and the needs of our wider world.

Encouragement and second chances

A reflection on the generous life of St. Barnabas the Apostle

In memoriam

Corpus Christi

From Prayer during the Day

Parish Eucharist for Trinity Sunday

A Vesper offering before Trinity Sunday

This morning in St. John's Church

Prayers for carers - and others

“Bare ruined choirs …”

That’s the title which the historian, Dom David Knowles, gave to one of his books in which he laments the decline and extinction of the monastic life in England. He himself was a Benedictine monk, but also an academic whose works I read when I studied mediaeval history as an undergraduate. He didn’t come up with the title himself - but pinched it from Shakespeare’s Sonnet 73:

Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou see'st the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west…

The words came to mind as I pondered this month’s cover illustration for this Parish Magazine. It comes from a photo of the Abbey of Silvacane - provided by Parish Pump, which offers online material for use in magazines such as our own. I didn’t think much of it, till I realised where it was. I visited Silvacane last year while on holiday in the Luberon - a marvellous area of Provence in Southern France. The abbey is barely known and there were practically no other visitors when we arrived. Founded by the Cistercian Order, it hit hard times by the middle of the 15^th century and the monks had to abandon it to the Cathedral of Aix. It became a parish church, but nevertheless fell into disrepair by the time of the French Revolution when it was auctioned off and turned into a farm. It passed through a succession of private owners who further misused it until the French government bought it back. The monks never returned. Only in the 1990s was any serious work of restoration begun.

Now it is truly magnificent - but empty. It’s no longer used for worship. But I could sense something in its height and simplicity which spoke to me. How had it been all those centuries ago when the monks assembled to sing the Daily Offices and Mass? The church was empty except for the two of us, so I tried a note or two - and then a chant, and a hymn and more! It was the most amazing acoustic - a building built for the praises of God.

I can’t remember just what we sang. I do remember that from memory I sang the Taizé chant, Surrexit Christ - Christ is risen from the dead, alleluia! And thanks to my phone I was able to look up the words of Veni Creator Spiritus - Come Holy Ghost, our souls inspire; I think I was able to find the original Latin which the monks would have used. An abandoned church - bare, though thankfully now restored from ruin. And its plain stone still responding to the prayer of those chants.

That was last August while I was on holiday. I had no idea then that we would find all our churches empty this spring due to the Covid-19 pandemic. It’s been a hard time during which we haven’t been able to worship together or even pray privately in our churches. And now there’s the strangeness of clergy allowed back in for prayer and the celebration of the Eucharist - but without a congregation.

Those chants I remember singing in the Abbey Church of Silvacane… The Surrexit Christus is the chant we sing in our churches after lighting the Paschal Candle on Easter morning. I sang it last in my study when we couldn’t use the church this Easter. But I can tell you that I sang it in St. Cuthbert’s as well. As I write now it’s the day after Pentecost, the Feast which celebrates the coming of the Holy Spirit. I’m glad I was able to celebrate the Eucharist back in church for this occasion. And on the way out I sang that other chant, Come Holy Ghost, our souls inspire. Actually I recorded it - you’ll find it on our Facebook pages and website.

I didn’t sing simply for the pleasure - though the acoustic at Silvacane is near miraculous and our own is pretty good! Rather, “He who sings prays twice,” as St. Augustine wrote.

For the moment our song might be a lament. But we look to the time when we can gather again in prayer and worship. St. Augustine also said, “We are an Easter people and Alleluia is our song.” So, don’t be downcast: be faithful in prayer; sing as best you can; let your faith sing out in the lives you lead - and in your love and care for others.

Martin Jackson

From the June issue of our Parish Magazine - find it through this link