Pat Craighead Sabbatical Report 1st Aug – 1st Nov 2019

The idea for this Sabbatical grew from my experience of Pilgrimage to Israel (2015, 2017), a trip to Assisi, and various holiday encounters with ‘sacred places.’

During the past two years, I had supported very aged parents, and in the latter stages of their illnesses, spent substantial time at their sides. I considered these moments to also be ‘sacred places.’ Following the deaths of my parents in the past year, I began to wonder more about the nature of sacred space.

Spaces which resonate with the human heart have been present since time immemorial, and include natural places, such as holy wells, forest glades and coastal caves. Others have their meaning lost in time – Stonehenge, Glastonbury amongst others. The great cathedrals and sacred spaces constructed by people of all faiths continue to draw crowds – and ‘enhancing’ them with golf courses and helter-skelters, have raised serious questions about the use of such strategies to channel the minds of millennials towards God.

I wanted to explore a few questions.

Can Sacred Space be manufactured?

Is Sacred Space already present? It seems that we live lives which continually seek such space, considering the current popularity of spa holidays, mindfulness retreats, meditation apps.

Is there anything ‘tangible’ about a sacred space? Is it the light (which medievalists would agree with), the presence of a holy relic, (ditto), or the vastness of an empty space within a building, which leaves us breathless, feeling small, and in awe?

I planned to visit several sacred spaces over the course of my Sabbatical. In each I planned to spend a significant amount of time. Conversations were arranged with a variety of people in each place, if possible. Observing the behaviour and comments of other visitors, particularly children, would be a valuable aspect of my observations.

I hoped to attend worship in some places, to explore silence and stillness and seek out the prayer spaces set aside.

In natural settings, I sought to enjoy the atmosphere of a place and seek an awareness of why such a place would be special.

During my Sabbatical I planned to read, and inwardly digest several books, including ;

John Inge. A Christian Theology of Place. (2003) Ashgate Publishing. (2016) Routledge.

Richard Giles. Re-Pitching the Tent. 3rd Ed. (1996) Canterbury Press Norwich.

Aidan, Bede, Cuthbert : Three Inspirational Saints by David Adam

Bede’s Life of Saint Cuthbert.

First Encounter – Canterbury Cathedral

We arrived at opening time, and found the cathedral surrounded by scaffolding. I recalled the words St. Francis heard, ‘Rebuild my Church.’ Here, like many other fine buildings, the

task is to rebuild, restore and repair ancient fabric. Perhaps an anthem for many churches across the country, and most pertinently, for the churches we serve in urban areas, acknowledging the challenges of mission in today’s context of changed lives and challenging alternatives to Sunday activities!

Canterbury is a place of soft stone and shadows. Inside, there were soft drapes under the said aisles, as dust is avoided. Entering s billowing space called to mind the Psalm 91 v. 4; ‘He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.’ (NIV).

Like many pilgrims, we were drawn to the Martyrdom – a small side chapel, the place where Thomas Becket was assassinated on 29th December 1170. Other monks present wanted to bolt the doors for safety, but Becket replied, ‘ It is not right to make a fortress out of the house of prayer!’ The sculpture in the chapel represents four swords for the four knights, designed by Giles Blomfield of Truro.

My first visit was a silent one. I found a tangible sense of the horrific events. Sudden, perhaps, not unexpected, death, of a man many consider a martyr. Becket was canonised in 1173, after which his shrine became the most important in England.

However, on a second visit, a family with small children were present. The smallest child giggled noisily for many minutes, probably being tickled by a parent. I wonder if they knew anything of the space in which they sat? I was somewhat annoyed, and moved quickly elsewhere, but was aware of the challenge faced in welcoming all, while having a naïve expectation that they would ‘get it’ and know what behaviours are appropriate in sacred spaces. (This was encountered elsewhere too).

I moved on to the Pilgrim Steps, where from 1220 until 1538 pilgrims climbed up to the place of the Shrine in the Trinity Chapel. These worn steps felt a testament to their faith and hopes. Many would have been in ill health, facing struggles we can barely imagine – yet they journeyed here. (I studied Chaucer, Canterbury Tales, at school, and these characters were

in my mind too). The marks they left are visible in the stone, and indeed, in graffiti around the cathedral.

Outside the cathedral I found quiet gardens, arches and passageways – places of transition. Is that what is powerful about Cathedrals – where history, monuments and marks on stone mark our transitions – in life, politics, faith and generations?

I wonder too – what is the scaffold of our faith – my faith?

9.30am Sunday Eucharist. Warm welcome, choir, sermon a bit generic – preaching to all, and nothing too controversial! I would have liked a little silence within the liturgy, but it moved at a pace. 300 + congregation.

Afterwards, over coffee we were approached and had conversations with a variety of people.

All very Anglican. Safe.

Second Encounter – The Church of St. Bartholomew the Great. Founded 1123 as a priory and London’s oldest parish church.

A quiet place, with a disturbing statue by Damien Hirst, of St. Bartholomew holding his flayed skin! The lights, candle holders, by artist Sophie Arkette, as a response to the Magna Carta. They celebrate the letters and poems of medieval visionaries such as Bernard of Claivaux and Hildegaard of Bingen.

Third Encounter – St. Paul’s Cathedral

I was delighted to be able to meet with Canon Precentor James Milne for a personal tour and discussion about his role in this holy place.

Again, it was the use of art within a sacred space which touched me.

Despite the corwds, there was time to contemplate and observe, to look and to pray.

William Holman Hunt’s painting of The Light of the World is in a side chapel, with a starkl surround, emphasising it’s vibrancy and colour. There isn’t time here to describe the meanings within this allegorical work, suffice to say it is worth reflecting upon.

Yet this didn’t seem to draw the tourists as much as the tryptich of video’s in each side aisle.

Bill Viola produced ‘Mary’ in 2016. It can be viewed on YouTube. Crwods gathered to watch the slowly changing images depicting the life of Mary. It moved througha cycle of five parst – from birth to death, depicting an eternal, universal Mary and an earthly Mary representing human life on earth. It was intensly moving.

The artist Gerry Judah has created two cruciform sculptures to commemorate those who died in World War 1.

Gerry says, ‘These sculptures are intended to appeal to our feelings of pity and charity, as well as filling us with hope for the future, which, I feel, is one of the principal purposes of a great place of worship, contemplation and meditation such as St. Paul’s.’

Many places in St. Paul’s evoke contemplation. Yet it is a vast building, with crowds of visitors, all interested in capturing the perfect photograph. However, at the mid day Eucharist, held at the centre of the nave, over 350 people paused to join the service. There is a sense of the ‘holy’ here, even on such a vast scale.

Fourth encounter – Holy Island

It was a privileged to have time to spend some of my Sabbatical here, our very own holy place on our doorstep. During my stay I re-read Aidan, Bede, Cuthbert : Three Inspirational Saints by David Adam and Bede’s Life of Saint Cuthbert. I’m not the only one to feel the tangible thin space here.

Fifth Encounter St. Margaret’s Chapel, Edinburgh Castle

I had a chance to visit this tiny chapel, only 10 x 5 meters externally. The simple stone building, barely large enough for 20 people, marks the honour in which Margaret, Queen of Scotland was held. Following the Rule of St. Benedict, she cared for poor whilst raising her family of eight. She was instrumental in bringing the Scottish Church in line with Rome,

establishing dates for Easter and Lent, and in the keeping of Sunday as a day of rest. Her simple chapel evokes a timelessness and connection with the days long gone.

On explaining my reason for visiting, the custodian allowed me to spend 10 minutes in this chapel alone.

A rare privilege.

Other encounters

St. Cuthbert’s Cave, Northumberland

Durham Cathedral

Hexham Abbey

Culminating in a family holiday to Los Angeles and San Francisco

Conclusion

I wanted to find out whether a ‘holy place’ could be ‘manufactured. In one sense I think that using art, light and the very stones themsleves, can enable a modern visitor to encounter some aspect of God. However, I feel this firstly needs a receptive willingness to seek and to see what is in front of their eyes. Open hearts and willingness to be curious are a fist step – maybe this is why children often seem most engaged with the vast and visual? Gaps of wondr from schoolchildren visiting our local church are echoed when they are givent the chance to truly ‘explore’ a special place. But that childlike quality also exists in adults.

The welcome and guidance received – even enabling visitors to take photographs – and leave with their own ‘holy relic’ captured by their smart phones, is a sign that all is not lost when it comes to bridging the secular and sacred worlds. (St. Paul’s cathedral has only recently allowed photographs to be taken by visitors – not with some controversy and concern).

Having the space to take a Sabbatical would not have been possible without the support of the Bishop and Senior Diocesan Staff, my Colleagues in Newcastle East Deanery and our Congregation at St. Mary Magdalene, Longbenton. Thank you all.

Yours in Christ,

Reverend Pat Craighead.