Author: svbenefice

The day after the killing of two worshippers at the synogogue in Manchester, a day that will almost certainly see more civilian casualties in Gaza, it is difficult for me to find any words. But this morning, I heard the Bishop of Manchester, Dave Walker, speak out about what perhaps is the worse danger of all; that moment when we forget those who are our enemies are also humans. As a Christian I believe we are all made in the image of God. Last week, I wrote about the murdered American political activist Charlie Kirk, a man noted for his controversial views. At his funeral, his widow, Erika, gave a powerful address; she publicly forgave his killer because that was the way of Christ. It was too much for some at the funeral, indeed the sentiment is too much for many. If I suffered grievous wrong, it might be too much for me. But she understood the shared humanity of victim and perpetrator and recognising this is the only way for ultimate healing between individuals or peoples.

“That man, that young man – I forgive him. I forgive him because it was what Christ did, and it is what Charlie would do.”

Rev David Poyner

Hypatia is not a person who is well known, but in 415 in Alexandria in Egypt, she was a celebrity. She was a leading philosopher, noted for her learning. She was also a pagan. In that year, she was attacked by a mob and killed; some attributed her death to rabble-rousing by the Bishop of Alexandria, St Cyril. Cyril was undoubtedly a bruiser, although it is not clear if he really was behind Hypatia’s death. None-the-less, by any standard, the murder of Hypatia, for her beliefs, was an inexcusable act of brutality. I am sure everyone has head of Charlie Kirk, the US political thinker, recently murdered whilst giving a speech; another inexcusable act of violence. The link between both is that their deaths were due to their beliefs. Can either be called martyrs? Hypatia, as a pagan, was clearly not a Christian martyr but could a case be made that she was a martyr for freedom of thought? Some have called Charlie Kirk a martyr; I cannot see that he was killed for his religious beliefs, although he was a Christian. Like Hypatia, perhaps there are stronger grounds for freedom of thought. The wider issue is that when someone is murdered because of their beliefs, the murder is always wrong. The beliefs, be they religious or not, need us to examine them; we may or may not think they are worthy.

Rev David Poyner

I’m in the middle of harvest festivals at the various churches at which I serve and a friend recently sent me this poem by EE Cummings. It speaks to me.

I am a little church (no great cathedral) far from the splendour and squalor of hurrying cities

– I do not worry if briefer days grow briefest I not sorry when sun and rain make April

my life is the life of the reaper and the sower;

my prayers are prayers of the earth’s own clumsy striving

(finding and losing and laughing and crying) children

whose any sadness or joy is my grief or my gladness.

Around them surges a miracle of unceasing birth and glory in death and resurrection:

over my sleeping self float flaming symbols of hope, and I wake to a perfect patience of mountains

I am a little church (far from the frantic world with its rapture and anguish)at peace with nature

– I do not worry if longer nights grow longest;

I am not sorry when silence becomes singing winter by spring, I lift my diminutive spire to merciful Him Whose only now is forever:

standing erect in the deathless truth of His presence

(welcoming humbly His light and proudly His darkness)

This weekend is Ride and Stride, the annual fund-raising event for the Shropshire Historic Churches Trust. I offer one of my favourite poems by R.S. Thomas by way of response.

The Chapel

A little aside from the main road,

becalmed in a last-century greyness,

there is the chapel, ugly, without the appeal

to the tourist to stop his car

and visit it. The traffic goes by,

and the river goes by, and quick shadows

of clouds, too, and the chapel settles

a little deeper into the grass.

But here once on an evening like this,

in the darkness that was about

his hearers, a preacher caught fire

and burned steadily before them

with a strange light, so that they saw

the splendour of the barren mountains

about them and sang their amens

fiercely, narrow but saved

in a way that men are not now.

Rev David Poyner

Last month, I ticked off one more item from my bucket list; I descended Gaping Gill. Gaping Gill is one of the most spectacular underground caverns in the country. It is 300 feet from its opening to the bottom, a cavern the size of a cathedral and several water falls descending from the top. The easy way is to go down on a winch, which is what I did with a friend. I am very pleased I did it; I look back on the experience with great enjoyment. And yet, at the time, my reaction was more muted. Yes, it was spectacular, but I have been in big underground caverns before. It has been an experience I have needed time to process, to look back on and reflect, to fully appreciate it. Sometimes if we want instant gratification we will be disappointed; we need to wait and contemplate. Yesterday, talking about something completely different with a colleague, she sent me this email; “Perhaps it’s like most things the harder you try the further away it gets and the more it alludes you.  Perhaps we should all quietly sneak up on it.” You can’t exactly sneak up on Gaping Gill, but the full satisfaction of going down it has quietly sneaked up on me. And, because I’m a vicar and I try to see God in everything, I also know this to be true of my spiritual life. I regularly pray, I try to actively think about God (sitting on a winch over a 300 foot drop is conducive to this), but so often, at the time, I feel nothing. Then, hours, perhaps days later, God quietly sneaks up on me.

Rev David Poyner

“Don’t just say this is about thoughts and prayers right now, these kids were literally praying. It was the first week of school, they were in a church.”

These are the reported words of the Mayor of Minneapolis, Jacob Fry, after two children were killed and 13 seriously injured in a mass shooting in a service to mark the first day of the new school year at the Church of the Annunciation in that city. The massacre raises hard questions; the ageless dilemma of why a loving and apparently all-powerful God allows such atrocities and what our response should be to these. It is the latter that is particularly exercising me. So often I find myself with people who have suffered loss, sometimes tragically and all I can say is that I will pray for them. I often feel embarrassed as I say that; it feels so inadequate. However, it is sometimes all I can do in that situation and I am a vicar; if I do not pray, I am nothing. I do not think the Mayor was rejecting thoughts and prayers, but that they need to be accompanied by action. This is particularly pertinent in the USA, with its history of regular gun massacres. There is probably nothing we can do about this particular situation other than to pray and empathise, but that ought to leave some mark on us for the future, to strengthen our resolve to reject evil.

Rev David Poyner

As I drew up to Billingsley Church yesterday, I noticed a motor bike outside. Now the Bishop of Hereford is a biker so my first reaction was panic was that he was doing an unannounced inspection of the church. But on looking closer, the bike didn’t look like his Harley Davison. On entering the churchyard, I saw a man of a certain age (OK, my age), sitting on a bench with a flask and a sandwich; we greeted each other and he asked if it was OK for him to be there. Of course it was. When I had finished in the church, I went back out and we chatted further. He enjoyed going round churches on his bike; he had a booklet produced by a tourism group on Shropshire churches and was using this as a guide. He liked to visit one church on his bike trip. He complimented me on how well kept the church and the churchyard were, what a lovely spot it was for a bench to enjoy the tranquillity. Then he said words I often hear; “I’m not a religious man, but….”. Being in the churchyard, next to the church, was feeding him spiritually. Even though he might not want to use the word “God”, I suspect his experience was similar to my experience when I kneel in prayer before the altar at a church as I prepare for a service. Perhaps he was closer to the Kingdom of Heaven than he might realise.  

Rev David Poyner

Reinhold Niebuhr was an American theologian whose work was deeply influenced by the great political turmoils of the mid-20^th century. He wrote following prayer in response to the Second World War; even though we have just marked the 80^th anniversary of the ending of that war, its words seem as relevant as ever.

Lord, we pray this day mindful of the sorry confusion of our world. Look with mercy upon this generation of your children so steeped in misery of their own contriving, so far strayed from your ways and so blinded by passions.

We pray for the victims of tyranny, that they may resist oppression with courage.

We pray for wicked and cruel people, whose arrogance reveals to us what the sin of our own hearts is like when it has conceived and brought forth its final fruit.

We pray for ourselves who live in peace and quietness, that we may not regard our good fortune as proof of our virtue, or rest content to have our ease at the price of others’ sorrow and tribulation.

We pray for all who have some vision of your will, despite the confusions and betrayals of human sin, that they may humbly and resolutely plan for and fashion the foundations of a just peace, even while they seek to preserve what is fair and just among us against the threat of malignant powers.

Rev David Poyner

This coming Friday will be the 80^th anniversary of VJ Day, the ending of the 2^nd World War. I am sure the celebrations will be on a smaller scale than VE day back in May, when the war in Europe finished. My impression is that VJ Day was never on the same scale as VE Day, unless families had relatives who were involved in the fighting in the Far East; I have heard those who served there referring to themselves as the forgotten army. It was a far-away conflict, with no home front. It also did not have the simple ending of the war in Europe with (generally) lasting peace in the continent, at least until recently. Then there were the two atom bombs, with arguments continuing about whether they were justified. We will mark VJ Day, by giving thanks for the bravery and sacrifices made by Allied troops and remembering all those who were killed or injured. We will also give thanks there has been no conflict on the scale of World War 2 since it ended, but remembering those conflicts which still exist and praying for our current armed forces. For me, it is a duty to remember these events before God; the rest I can only leave to him/her.

Rev David Poyner

Ozzy Osbourne of Black Sabbath is dead; the Black Country mourns… Regular readers of this column will be aware that my musical tastes veer towards Anglican plainsong not heavy metal and I have no idea what Ozzy and Black Sabbath actually sounded like. However, I know many people do admire their music and he and the band were cultural icons. He revelled in the title “Prince of Darkness”; perhaps more than anyone else he epitomised the life of the outrageous rock star with sex and especially drugs. Perhaps his excesses shortened his life. But, at the end, I was struck by one thing. One his coffin, as it was processed through the Birmingham and the Black Country was a cross, made of flowers. The Prince of Darkness, or at least his family, chose the symbol of the King of Heaven to be closest to him at that point. In interviews, Osbourne sometimes said that he believed in God, he was brought up a Christian and I do not think he ever renounced that faith. A fascinating commentary on his faith is at Silence in the Dark: Exploring the Faith of Ozzy Osbourne | by Alan Lechusza | Jul, 2025 | Medium This argues that he had a real faith, strong enough to ask hard questions, strong enough to live with uncertainty and his own failings, to explore answers in the poetry of song. That sounds rather like my faith; perhaps I need to listen to some of his records.

Rev David Poyner