When I get in from a good walk on Dartmoor I am usually hot and sweaty whether it is winter or summer – whether the weather has been hot or cold. I am quite certain that I will be in need of a shower!

What do others smell when you are around? No – I am not being impertinent and enquiring about your breath or body-odour! Even if we have never used perfume or after-shave in our lives, we Christians are called to imitate Jesus – to be a fragrant offering.

Be imitators of God, as beloved children, and live in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.  Ephesians 5:1,2

The older I get as a Christian the more I realise that knowing what the Bible says is of no avail unless I live it in my life as well. Faith in the Risen Christ is inadequate unless accompanied by a Risen Life.

Faith by itself, if it has no works, is dead. James 2:17

Each morning in my prayers, along with the person leading Morning Prayer in St Eustachius’ Church at 8am, I say these words: As we rejoice in the gift of this new day, so may the light of your presence, O God, set our hearts on fire with love for you. When I repeat those words I often add a few more words: set our hearts on fire like the burning bush with love for you. I think of the story of Moses when he saw a bush burning, but not being consumed. It was such an arresting sight that he had to step aside to examine it and there he met with God (see Exodus 3:1-6). We are not just called to be a fragrant offering but also an attractive sight!

I write this in August when the church calendar remembers the Transfiguration – when Jesus’s appearance was transformed for a while in front of three of his disciples: the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white (see Luke 9:28-36). The entry in the Diocesan prayer diary said this: On the feast of the Transfiguration we pray that we would be transfigured to be your presence in the world. Help us to live in ways which show by our deeds the words of Jesus … And just a few days before I had seen one Church member doing just that. Having taken someone to the doctors’ surgery, she was now taking them around town where they struggle to get to from their rural abode.

It should be important to us what “smell” accompanies us; what “whiff” others get when they encounter us; what sight they see when they look upon us, whether they be family, friends, neighbours, colleagues or strangers. Let us pray that by God’s grace it may be fragrant and attractive!

Thanks be to God, who in Christ always leads us in triumphal procession, and through us spreads in every place the fragrance that comes from knowing him. 2 Corinthians 2:14

 Yours sincerely,

Tony

Religion places time and timelessness together, places them in parallel. Not that they can stay together for very long. Our time runs out, our timelessness runs nowhere, for that is its property. It just is. When God became man to enter what he had created, being now human he experienced time. The incarnation was God’s experience of being born, growing up, becoming a citizen of a certain country, being loved by his particular family, becoming a teacher, a spiritual healer who challenged local laws and customs, and having to experience local justice. All this within the bounds of time.

The gospels are most careful to state when and where Jesus was in time; the historical Jesus, as the biographers call him, is set fairly and clearly within his times, just as each one of us is, as our birth certificates, bank accounts, national health cards and passports show, not to mention the Baptismal register. So here we are on the earth, that tiny speck in the great universe of God’s creation, fully documented and date stamped all over.

Whilst here on earth Jesus showed scant respect for time. He criticised those who allowed it to dominate their lives in such a way that they hadn’t the time to take their time, not having a spare minute, let alone a spare hour. We are guilty of this too.  ‘Congratulate me,’ the busy person says when they tell us, ‘I never have a minute to myself, I don’t have time to turn around, I just managed to get everything done in time.’

Time is at its grandest and most awe inspiring in the Bible. First, from the letter to the Hebrews, consider that glorious opening chapter which begins ‘God, who at sundry times and in divers manners, spake in time past unto the fathers by the prophets, hath in these last days spoken unto us by his Son’. And then the even more stupendous opening of St John’s Gospel, ‘In the beginning was the Word’. Both writers run time and timeless, mortality and immortality, the temporal and the eternal, side by side, like twin tracks on a railway line, one going as far as the terminus, the other out of sight. The incarnate one arrived at a moment when it became agonizingly plain to him that his earthly existence was over, that he had completed the task that his Father had set for him, his work was finished and also his life in time. The redemption we call it, this divine work. To redeem means to buy back, usually at a high price; we have been repossessed by God and now we can take our place at the table of his family, the church, where although the old church clock clunks and chimes its way through the service, there is no set time. We have stepped into the immeasurable, into that time for everything the bible calls rest.

We have nailed mortal time down to the split second, to the carbon-tested age of a tree stump, put down as what is a marker in what is now Norwich, which was growing when Abraham pitched his tent at Bethel, and to an exactitude which previous generations would have found a burden. For them it was daybreak or noon or evening or night. It was spring or it was summer, autumn, winter, and so life went on, sans minutes and hours for the most part. The sun came up, the sun went down. The tides went out and the times came in. The birds flew away and only God knew where. Then a great gold clock was fixed on the Parish Church and its hands told everyone when to start and when to stop, and Time ruled the roost.

The preacher of Ecclesiastes offers philosophy of Time – the best there is. He is, among other things, the master of weariness, of disillusionment. He has done it all, seen it all, had it all. The preacher allows time for everything, but it is in an allowance. There follows logically a time to cease doing this, or being that, sad though it is, and reading his beautiful statement we have to agree. There Is a time to weep and to laugh, a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing, a time to keep silence and a time to speak, a time to be born and a time to die. There is in a lifetime a time for everything once we have learned to find the time, and that is the secret.

Wishing you all a happy summer time.

In June last year, Wendy Roderick wrote about her time in the Arabian desert and how the wilderness is a constant presence in the Bible. During the season of Epiphany, we have heard how John the Baptist lived in the wilderness Luke 1: 80 and baptised Jesus Luke 3 : 21. After his baptism by John “Jesus returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit in the wilderness where for forty days he was tempted by the devil.” Luke 4 : 1-2.

We begin February with the Feast of Candlemas when we recall the presentation of Christ in the Temple at Jerusalem.  During February we will also recall the beginning of the Ministry of Jesus: The summoning of the disciples, the Sermon on the Mount and the Calming of the Storm on the Sea of Galilee.  This is to be our preparation for the season of Lent which begins in March and will take us into the wilderness where we have time to reflect.

I once spent time in a wilderness – it happened to be in western Iran on the Jowkar Plain where the Magi, who travelled from the East to visit the infant Jesus, might have come from.  My task there was to ensure that a steel roof was completed to protect the fragile mud brick remains of a Zoroastrian fire temple dating from the Median period which had been excavated on the summit of an isolated rock.

The experience summoned in me thoughts similar to the reflections Wendy has told us about.  However, there was one very important difference. The desert of Arabia is one of shifting sands and nothing stays still for long. Even the infrequent rains which fill the river beds and supply the oases are followed by periods of intense scorching heat which dries up everything.  The only people who inhabit this land keep moving across vast distances, relying on the few sources of water which are reliable.

The Jowkar plain in western Iran, on the other hand, was once fertile land.  The crumbling remains of villages are to be seen throughout the area and the few families who remain eke out an existence in considerable difficulty.  All the young people had left for the big cities further east where the prospects were better, leaving only the elderly and the very young in the village of their birth.

When I was left alone on the site after the archaeologists had returned to Teheran, I climbed up the rock to supervise the completion of the steel roof above the fire temple and the covering of the surrounding excavations.  The thoughts which occupied me then were concerning the transience of man’s activity amidst God’s creation.  The wilderness all around me was the result of man’s activities – which had failed.

In recent years I have begun to see that Dartmoor is a bit like that.  It is a wilderness dominated by nature but it also embraces many traces of man’s former activity in the form of hut circles, stone rows, quarries, mines and leats.  It also surrounds river valleys which continue the pattern of settlement in villages and farms which has been established for many centuries.

When I left Iran in 1972, I travelled alone through Turkey and Europe to my home in England.  It was in Turkey that I first emerged from the wilderness.  I was driving down a valley from the barren mountain pass in Georgia and noticed the tiny groups of spindly birch trees forming groves beside the river.  This illustrated the power of water.  It brought life and the new growth brought colour.  It was the greenness which was so exciting to me at that moment.  After a year spent in a grey/brown world, the sudden appearance of green leaves and silver bark with the sparkling activity of the water enticed me. The beauty is God’s creation and I wanted to stop my truck and experience the shade of the trees and feel the water running across my skin.

I have recently discovered the joys of wild swimming and this has taken me to a number of very special places where God’s creation is manifest.  The water is warmed by flowing over the surface of huge rocks which have been heated by the sun. Its flow has, over centuries, worn down the valley to form pools fed by waterfalls.

It is good to hear the sound of flowing water: the power and the energy of it and it is good to immerse yourself in the pool as you see everything from a different point of view.  The water supports your body and you can float looking up at the sky.  Everything you can see is God’s creation and what is below the surface is also God’s but a different world.  You are bridging two worlds.

At baptism the immersion of the body is a descent from our world to the world of death and the baptism is the emergence to new life in Christ.  Last year, I felt blessed to witness the baptism of my grandson Sebastian at St Michael’s Church in Brentor.  I saw him splashed with the water of baptism and I loved him even more because he has been claimed as Christ’s with the sign of the cross.  Whatever he gets up to in his life ahead, he will have the support of all the people who made promises at this ceremony; those who came from Australia, from Canada and from Holland as well as the members of the three families that have formed my son James during his life so far.

Baptism is a sacrament but it is not the only rite we need as Christians because a child is not able to discern the implications of life in Christ and others, as Godparents, promise to intercede on behalf of this child.  So when we grow up, it is important that we consider these implications for ourselves.  We can choose to confirm the promises made on our behalf by godparents and make the commitment to life in Christ for ourselves.  This choice can be supported by joining a group preparing for confirmation.  Chris Hardwick, in the January Parish Magazine, has given a very clear invitation to explore Confirmation and I commend this to everyone you know who might be embarking on this journey.

Sally and I have walked alongside candidates for Confirmation over several years and know that the journey of faith is never ending.  But confirmation is an important step because the commitment is a personal one. It affirms our relationship with God on our life journey and commits us to continue to learn as we grow. I am pleased to see that all our churches offer Pilgrim or other similar courses to give us encouragement to learn and to grow as Christians in this benefice.

The welcome I have experienced on the occasions when I have joined a study group has always been warm and inviting.  The joy of listening to others as they explore the reading and the help I have received from being there as a participant is a real blessing.  No one should be apprehensive about joining a study group because the environment is benign and safe.  Tony Vigars is leading a group in Brentor on the Acts of the Apostles which I am enjoying.  Mike Loader leads one in Tavistock and Judith Blowey has recently completed the whole series of Pilgrim Courses at Gulworthy.

During the season of Lent Chris Hardwick will be giving Lent Lectures in the parish Centre from 11.30am to 1.00pm followed by a light lunch of soup with a bread roll.  This starts on Monday 11^th March followed by 18^th March, 25^th March, 1^st April and 8^th April.  Now you have your 2019 Diaries, make sure these dates are ringed!

May every possible blessing pour upon you in 2019.

Reader Christopher of Brentor

As I was driving across Dartmoor early in November I drove past a pub with a large banner outside boldly declaring Christmas Season. My immediate reaction was, ‘but we aren’t even halfway through November, we haven’t got to Advent yet!’

It is so easy to think of December as the Christmas season. After all, town centre Christmas lights are usually switched on in November, the shops have been selling Christmas goods for weeks and Christmas dinner menus run throughout December in our local restaurants, but in the Church calendar the Christmas season begins at Christmas and most of December is the season of Advent.

How can we make space for Advent, a time of reflection and waiting, waiting patiently for the Nativity? It’s such a busy time as we dash from shop to shop, write cards and send presents, plan our parties and celebrations and look forward to spending quality time with our families. I love carol services, Crib services, Christmas tree festivals, concerts, Nativity plays, pantomimes and parties and, of course, the joy and excitement of my grandchildren as they wait for ‘Santa’, but in all our busyness it is so easy to forget why we are celebrating. Somehow we need to make space for God. We need to give God quality time too; after all without the birth of Jesus, the Son of God, whose birthday we celebrate at Christmas, there would be no parties, no presents, no Christmas dinner and certainly no carol services.

To make space for God, some of us within the Mission Community are spending a day quietly reflecting at Buckfast Abbey. I love spending time there and the drive across the moor is all part of the day. It’s part of the journey, a sort of pilgrimage. The time of quiet, whilst enjoying the countryside (unless the mist is down) is time well spent, preparing for a special time with God, our God who is delighted when we set aside time to be in his presence.

It was on a short visit to the Abbey that I passed the pub declaring the Christmas season. I wanted to go into the Abbey church and sit quietly in the Blessed Sacrament Chapel but first I enjoyed looking at one of my favourite trees. I love the Monterey Pine growing in the centre of a flowerbed between the church and the restaurant in the grounds of the Abbey. There is a notice from the head gardener in front of it which intrigues me, it begins like this:

The area has been re-designed to prevent compaction of the tree roots (Monterey Pine).

The notice then goes on to list the types of bulb that are planted in the flowerbed, flowers that won’t choke the roots of the pine. The roots need space to provide sufficient nourishment for the tree to flourish.

It reminds me of Jesus’s parable of the sower where only the seed that fell on good ground grew up to bear fruit. That’s a parable about the word of God and how, so often, we fail to listen to it. Sometimes we take no notice. Other times we are delighted by what we hear, but then times get difficult and we forget, or become distracted by all the other things that are going on which get in the way. That’s why it’s good to make an effort to give time to be with God, to strengthen our roots, to allow him to nourish us through the word of God and refresh us with spiritual living water. St Paul in his letter to the Colossian Christians wrote:

Just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live your lives in him, rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness. Col 2:6-7 (NIV)

 Our lives need to be firmly rooted in Jesus. It’s important to give him quality time, so sometimes I like to go somewhere special so I can really focus. The monks of Buckfast Abbey offer the space and peaceful setting I need to become more rooted in Jesus and I am pleased they are also seeking to provide the right environment for their Monterey Pine to flourish too!

In the run up to Christmas please make space for Jesus; it’s time well spent.

Hazel Butland (Reader)

‘I call you friends’ – this was the title of the Ordination retreat held at Sheldon. The text for the retreat was taken from John 15: 9-17.  I share with you a small part of our retreat.

We were shown a copy of an icon which dates from the 8^th century of Christ with Abba Mena (there are many prints and the icon can be viewed on line). The original icon is hanging in the Louvre in Paris. The French, however, title the icon ‘Christ and His Friend’.

The text from John’s Gospel reads ‘I do not call you servants any longer because the servant does not know what the master is doing; but I have called you friends, because  I have made known to you everything that I have heard from my father’. (John15:15)

The icon depicts Christ with his arm around the friend.  The friend is Abba Mena; he can be seen to represent each one of us. Jesus does not face his friend, rather he stands alongside him; he accompanies him, sharing the burdens of his life. ‘Christ no longer calls us servants but friends’.  The second striking thing about this icon is the position of the eyes. Christ has an eye on his friend and another looking out. This gives us an insight on how we all need to have one eye focused on Christ and one looking out to those in our care, to our neighbours and friends.  As John 15:12 reads; ‘This is my commandment that you love one another’.

The icon shows Christ holding the scriptures; God’s word, the word that tells of the love between God and humanity. We are like the friend in the icon who is holding a small scroll which is rolled up, God’s loving plan not yet fully revealed. Another fascinating detail of this icon is that Christ is depicted without feet. The friend has feet; it is we who are being sent out.  ‘As the Father has sent me so I send you’. (John 20:21)

There is a silence (as in all icons) to be discovered in this icon; both Jesus and his friend’s mouths are closed. The friend, however, is drawn with very prominent ears. We are the listeners of Christ; the silence in the icon is a prayerful silence.  Prayer is the very essence of our relationship with God.

I am writing this piece in early October; however, it will be read in November when churches across our Mission community and throughout the country will be commemorating the ending of World War 1 one hundred years ago. As we remember and pay our respects to all those who went to war, to the horror that they endured and to the many thousands who did not return home, like the icon, as we have one eye focused on Christ and one on our neighbour, so we pray for peace and reconciliation in our world today.

Lord strengthen our hearts, hands and minds to work together for peace; to see you in one another, and to seek your kingdom above all things, that your will may be done, and your kingdom come, through Jesus Christ, the Lord of Lords and King of kings. Amen

(Church of England resources)