England Diary, Entry 2

Here beginneth the second entry of my England diary. It is for paid subscribers, so if you are at the free level, please consider upping it to a paid level. Not only do you get to read all my England diary entries (along with other gifts, including the monthly Akenside Institute devotional card, a free PDF download) but you support my online Christian ministry.

The lead photograph above is of a thatched-roof house near our hosts’ place in Lancing. Twyla took it, and sent it to Hannah. She reposted it on her IG account saying, “If this is your vibe, then we can be friends.” My sentiments exactly.

I had mentioned providing photographs from our hike in Lancing Ring Downs (the hills near our hosts’ house). I was a glorious hike at dusk of our first day here, but as of yet I haven’t located decent photographs worth showing, alas.

Our second day was Holy Cross Day and it was rather low-key epic.

It began by walking over S. James’ Church for a said service of Matins (Morning Prayer) followed by Mass celebrated by Fr Edgar. Twyla and I then set off on what became a four-hour walk through Lancing and down the coast line to the pier in the adjacent village of Worthing. Along the way we stopped for a small breakfast at Deli Bean, which in the US would be called a diner. Both Twyla and I got a fried egg sandwich with British bacon (called in the US “shoulder bacon” or sometimes “cottage bacon.” That plus a cappucino. Both were delicious: the sandwich was something as a “grandma” might make, if you catch my drift, and the cappucino was sprinkled with cocoa powder.

The long walk was great. We really wanted to get the exercise, as well as walk through Lancing and Worthing and see things that way. Worthing seems larger and a bit more touristy than Lancing The pier had all sorts of hubbub going on near and on it. We did not grab any snaps of the piers but here are a couple from the walk along the beach path. That is the English Channel to the right. The beach was rocky, so much so that Twyla and I were not sure we would be able to relax on it; although there were a number of people sunning on the beach, to be fair, and they seemed to be enjoying themselves perfectly well. I think our two years in New Smyrna Beach has spoiled us to beaches, to be honest.

Along the way we stopped into another Church of England parish in Lanching, S. Michael and All Angels, whose priest is a close colleague of Fr Edgar. We were just hoping to pop in to see the sacred space (as one does). But they were celebrating their own Mass for Holy Cross Day, and specifically the sermon was just beginning. So we quietly found a seat and heard the preaching, which like Fr Edgar’s earlier was edifying. We slipped out during the Offertory only because we had to get back to the Edgar’s in time for Jocelyn to prepare dinner.

These ol’ legs of mine did start to feel the creakiness along the way. I think it has not been since last Spring that I had taken such a long walk. It was good to do, but even today, two days later, I am still feeling it. Before returning, we stopped into a bakery and small grocery store for the ingredients for the aforementioned dinner. We got three loaves of local sourdough bread, some good cheese including an English cheddar labelled “very mature” which I think means something like “extra sharp,” some sliced deli meat and a bag of ground coffee. We got the coffee because Twyla (and even more so me) was using quite of bit of the Edgar’s coffee for morning lubrication. So, you know, doing our part.

After returning to the Edgar’s after the four-hour jaunt, we hung for a bit before heading to the church for Evening Prayer. After which we returned as Jocelyn was putting out a lovely supper which consisted of a platter of the bread, cheese, meat, and condiments for sandwiches, along with a quinoa salad. Beers may have been cracked as well, for hydration, of course.

It was a bit of an earlier meal because Fr Edgar was taking us to a 7:30 pm Mass in the city of Eastbourne, about an hour’s drive. It was to license a parish’s new priest, someone I know whose name is Fr Josh Delia. For about a year he was part of a priest cohort I lead that studies the theology and priestly wisdom of Fr Martin Thornton. It was a real pleasure to be present for his licensing (something close to an Institution of a new Rector in the Episcopal Church context). Here are some photographs of the Mass in this beautiful, Anglo-Catholic church:

Also, before the service there was changing-rining in the bell twoer of Fr Delia’s church. I was able to take a video of it (sound on!):

After the Mass, we greeted Fr Delia, met his wife and three children, and I also met Bishop Will Hazlewood, who has episcopal oversight of this parish (it being a parish of The Society, which is an important way the Church of England is preserving the canonical right of Bishops, Priests, Deacons, and parishes who hold to the traditional, orthodox-catholic understanding of Holy Orders to maintain their public commitment to that witness. Bishop Will was very kind to speak with, and asked about Twyla’s icon painting workshop as well. All in all, it was a wonderful experience to be at Fr Delia’s licensing, and he seemed quite pleased as well that I was able to attend.

Before heading to bed, we video-chatted with the family back in NSB. They were doing decently given there has been a round of flu-like symptoms. Of course, our evening was their afternoon, which was a bit weird.

Here endeth that day.

The next day commenced, as one does, with Matins in the church. As it was Friday, we followed Matins with the Great Litany (according to traditional practice). After that, it was back to the Edgar’s because I had given myself the task to sort out the next leg of our journey, which is leaving on Sunday after Mass for Shropshire which is where Twyla’s icon workshop is happening.

While there was a happy-enough ending, it was a challenge getting to the place of “sorted.” As I needed to be able to make local phone calls, I had to get my cellphone on a cell network in England. The data pass I had purchased the day before was not working, so I spent about 90 minutes on the phone with T-Mobile as they trouble-shooted. Alas, they never figured out the solution. However, for some reason, Twyla’s cellphone was already able to join a cell network without having made any adjustments to her settings (why? who the heck knows) so finally the decision was made to add the international data plan to her phone, which would become our phone for local calling.

Meanwhile, Fr Edgar was kind enough to sit with us and work out a decent train itinerary from Lancing to the Shrewsbury area of Shropshire. There was some discussion as to whether renting a car might be a good idea, and we entertained it for quite a while, even doing a comparative research on car rental options. Part of the reason for this is that I hope to attend a funeral in Shropshire next week Monday (more on that in a future Diary entry) and getting to that from our lodging in Shropshire is a bit tricky, as the whole area is rural and wooded: “back-country” you might say.

Yet the best solution emerged as our original one: a series of trains to Shrewsbury, and then reserving a private taxi ride from the destination train station to Walcot Hall, where the workshop will be. I added a link to check out their website.

Yet the taxi had to be reserved ahead of time, so I got on the phone to call taxi services provided to me by Walcot Hall, to see if one was available. I had to call six taxi services, but I did make a reservation for one to pick us up at Craven Arms train station at 7:15 pm Sunday, which we hope we arrive at after our 6+ hour train journey from Lancing. Do pray for us on that!

Finally making that taxi reservation took a lot of pressure off of my mind and heart. I even let out a bit of weeping with Twyla, Fr Edgar, and Jocelyn, as it was a journey (in their kitchen) to get that done. When you are in a foreign country and have to make arrangements, you realize how so much of life hangs but on a thread of God’s providence.

One last thing: yesterday afternoon, we were blessed by Fr Edgar driving us a couple of minutes by car to the other church over which he has care: Coombes Church. It is a small, ancient church dating perhaps from the 900s (!!!). Fr Edgar celebrates a monthly Mass there, as well as sung Evensong 3-4 times per year.

The church perhaps has a capacity of fifty people, and much of the ancient iconography on the walls were defaced in the English reformation with white paint, covering over what appears to have been Byzantine iconography. Twyla and I both agreed that the whole setting of Coombes Church was quite magical: it is on a working farm, with cattle, geese, sheep, fruit trees, and “corn” which means barley. So, basically, it was as if stepping into a Beatrix Potter story, such as the story of Jemima Puddle-duck.

We ended the day with Evening Prayer (as one does), and then dinner at the Edgar’s, a lovely dish by Jocelyn: leek and mushroom pasta with garlic bread. I did a bit of church work for the services back home this Saturday and Sunday. We video-chatted with the family (the cycle has hit Oona and Hannah, but Izzi, Marla, and Martins are nearly recovered). Then off to bed.