The Sound of the Bells

I recently did a wedding at one of our local churches. The couple had requested that the bells be rung as they left the church and this duly happened. At a wedding the couple get value for their money from the ringers; the peel lasts for a long time. And so it happened that the bells were still in full sound as I left the church, about 15 minutes after the service had finished. As I came to my car, I noticed a woman who lives close to the church, standing, listening to the bells. She was entranced by the sound, living simply in the moment as she heard them. She noticed me, dressed in my dog collar and obviously the vicar. She spoke; “I love the bells”. She explained she had always loved the bells since she was little. Then she embraced me and I blessed her.

The ringers, the wedding couple, had no idea that this was happening, that their actions and choices were bringing such pleasure to someone who was not even at the service. But God knew, the Holy Spirit, the comforter was working alongside the ringers, in and out of the church, to speak to those with ears to hear.
Rev David Poyner

Lucy Letby

Some acts seem too horrible to contemplate; the crimes of Lucy Letby fall into this category. Our thoughts and prayers must firstly be with the parents of the babies she so cruelly killed. But what of the woman herself? I cannot think of any other word than “evil” to describe her and her deeds. Fortunately, crimes such as hers are very rare; most people have sufficient of a moral compass not to stray into her world. There are however two questions which I find myself pondering. Once, she was a child, an innocent; how did she end up as the author of evil? And what will become of her?

Christianity offers some thoughts on these questions, although some may find them deeply distasteful. They all start with Lucy’s humanity, something she shares with us all. It goes on to talk about the “fallen” nature of humanity, what some commentators have called “original sin”. Essentially this says that part of being human is the freedom to make decisions for good or bad; sometimes, in spite of ourselves, we will all chose the bad. Almost everyone will stop well before she did, but the urge to put self first is inbuilt in us all. Secondly, it states that the same common humanity that we share means we all have the possibility of redemption, forgiveness. If I were a parent of one of Lucy’s victims, I doubt whether I could ever truly forgive her; I find it hard to imagine that she will ever now have a life outside of prison. But she is not beyond the mercy of God if she but recognises this. And neither are we; we may all be fallen sinners, but we all may become forgiven sinners.
Rev David Poyner

Thinking in the Box

A few weeks ago, a friend from work shared with me a tip on how to calm students who are worried about how they have done in an exam. She tells them to imagine a box and then to put all their thoughts about the exam into it. They then seal up the box, with the intention of returning to it in a few days time when they are in a better place. Then they can unpack it and deal with whatever thoughts and emotions they find, but with the benefit of being calmer. I have subsequently been told that this a standard technique taught in mindfulness, the practice of improving our lives by taking control of our thoughts. A couple of days ago, I found myself talking about this to one of the chaplains at Aston University, where I work. She reminded me of words written nearly 2000 years ago by St Paul (or one of his followers) in the letter to the Philippians; “Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things”. This comes shortly after a verse which pleads for peace between two women from the church who apparently do not see eye to eye. Paul here is doing exactly what contemporary mindfulness teachers do; encouraging his readers to reflect on the things that work for good, to help them to deal with the days when everything seems to be working for bad.

Rev David Poyner

A Legacy

It is a year since my father died. As many will know, Dad was a carpenter and working with wood was his joy. Just a few weeks before he died he was still in his workshop. At this point he was making small wooden crosses; though he was now very frail, it was a simple job that he could still manage. He made the crosses to give away to anyone who came to see him, including those who helped to care for him. A few weeks ago, I met one of those people. She had given a couple of the crosses to her parents. Her father had taken one of these and had recently inlaid it with a silver cross.

I found it fascinating and rather wonderful that a year after his death, one of the crosses made by Dad is speaking to its owner, calling out a new creative act from him. It is a wonderful example of how small acts that we do can have consequences, hopefully for the good, long after we have passed by. Wearing my vicar’s collar, I would call this an act of the Holy Spirit.
Rev David Poyner