St Mary's, Highley

In the Cloud

Last Saturday, I took a chance on the weather forecast and drove out to Wales, to walk up Cader Idris. I wanted to repeat a walk I last did thirty years ago; following a path up the north side of the hill. When I set off, it was warm and dry but the top of hill was covered in cloud. I got caught in one sharp shower and the summit was still in mist when I got there. I ate my sandwiches in the hut at the top of the hill and then started to pick my way back down. About 100 feet below the summit, just after a rocky scramble, I paused and then became aware that the cloud was moving. I did wonder if the whole mountain was going to clear and whether I should go back to the top; it didn’t and, fortunately, I didn’t. Instead I simply stood for about 10 minutes, watching the mist swirl, catching glimpses of the panorama of the valley below, the sharp rocks on the cliff face next to the path. I was caught up in the moment; focussing on the detail of the mountain, sharing in its intimacy and its mystery. Hill walkers usually curse low cloud, but there are times when I think it enhances a climb.

I’m not sure you actually need to climb a mountain to find something of wonder in mist; I’ve had similar experiences walking to the station on a foggy morning. There is something spiritual, mystical, about being in a cloud. In the late 14th century, an unknown mystic wrote a book called “The cloud of unknowing”, about entering a spiritual cloud to better experience the mystery of God. The next time you find yourself in mist, if you can pause to enjoy the mystery, the wonder and that which I call God.

Rev David Poyner

Requiem for a bat

On Wednesday, I was put on the spot. Alex, from the Caring for God’s Acre team was visiting Billingsley churchyard to scythe the grass; some volunteers from the congregation had joined him and I had come to show moral support and consume the cake that had been provided. They also serve who stand and eat…

Whilst in earnest discussion about how to encourage more wild flowers, I was interrupted by one of our volunteers who was in a state of some excitation; whilst cleaning the church she had found a dead bat, which we have subsequently identified as Soprano Pipistrelle. We think it may have died of shock at observing 10 in church for the most recent 8am communion after 20 at the last evening service. But what then caught me off guard was when she asked me to pray for it, before we committed its remains to the ground. Do bats have souls? Is there a place in heaven for bats?? I quickly mumbled some words of thanksgiving for its life.

I have no idea if bats or any other creature (or indeed plant) has a soul; I leave such matters to God. But all living creatures are part of “creation”, the natural world that ultimately owes its existence to God, even though God works through the laws of physics and chemistry and evolution by natural selection. And the religious thinkers who wrote the creation poems in Genesis recognised a great truth, when they  said that the natural/created world was good, because it ultimately reflects the goodness of its creator/primary cause. So I am  glad I commended it to God in my brief prayer.

Rev David Poyner

Earth’s crammed with Heaven

For our monthly 6pm evening services that we run in Billingsley over Spring and Summer we have a theme of travel and exploration. Last month, Sue Bates our church treasurer, told us of a recent trip she made to Antarctica; next Sunday (9th July), Caroline Johns, assistant editor of one of our local parish magazines will be telling us about three trips that she has made. In a month’s time, I will be talking about my trips to the Hebrides. In all of these, a common theme will be finding something that speaks to us and nourishes us in the natural world, whether or not we consider that we have a religious faith.

In the 19th century, Elizabeth Barrett Browning wrote a long poem, “Aurora Leigh”; one of its main themes is that division between the natural or physical world and what I would call the spiritual is a false one.

“Without the spiritual, observe,
The natural’s impossible;—no form,
No motion! Without sensuous, spiritual
Is inappreciable;—no beauty or power!”

A few lines later, she picks up a scene from the Book of Exodus, where Moses stumbles on God, “Holy ground”, in a burning bush and is commanded to remove his shoes, for he is standing on ground that is hallowed by God.

“Earth’s crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God:
But only he who sees, takes off his shoes;
The rest sit round it, and pluck blackberries,
And daub their natural faces unaware
More and more, from the first similitude.”

Our speakers, in their own way, are reflecting on how they find “heaven” (however they understand that) in the common bushes they have observed in their travels. But of course, Browning’s point is that we do not need to go far from our own door to see the same thing, if only we have eyes.

Rev David Poyner