Change and Decay

Back in February, the Southlands Hotel in Sheringham was ablaze. Unspectacular news in so many ways - the demise of a disused hotel in an English seaside resort is hardly going to make the headlines of the News at Ten. But this was the hotel where DrLanky and I had our wedding reception (17 years ago this August), so I have a sentimental attachment to the place.

Today, we visited Sheringham with the children. We're there quite often as we have lots of family there and now live quite close by. We parked in South Street, and this was the view of Southlands. Quite different from the countless scenes of wedding day happiness and family celebrations which have graced its doors over many years.

Whilst I concede a degree of sentimentalism over the demolition of Southlands, I can't help

wondering what it signifies for Sheringham, and for seaside towns like it. When we were married, there was a choice in the town of two hotels which could cater for a reception like ours. Now there are none. I find myself asking if the market for these hotels has disappeared, and that must surely be the case. The bread and butter business for places like these was in residential customers coming on their holidays. The wedding receptions were handy additional business, but it was the holidaymakers who paid the bills. I suppose that business has simply gone now, and that in 2001 we experienced the tail-end of this part of the seaside business landscape.

Of course, this isn't news. The rise in mobility, the growth in affordable air travel and the globalisation of culture have all had a massive impact on our economy; though I don't suppose many communities have felt these changes as keenly as the traditional seaside resorts.

But it's not all doom and gloom. Sheringham remains a desirable place to live and a great place to visit. The hotels and large guest houses may have gone, but the town still seems to be thriving. So, yes there is change, and I suppose there is a sort of decay. But surely it's all part of a cycle of life and death, which seems to exist in business just as it does in the rest of life. 

Slowing down

As I reach the end of my final week on placement here in Sheringham, I can finally feel myself slowing down a bit. As I won't be on placement after Sunday, there's been no point in attending any funeral visits or meetings for future events. I've done a visit today with one more planned for this afternoon, then PCC this evening. Tomorrow morning I'll be joining a couple of people who take people with learning difficulties and mental problems round the shops. On Saturday I have a morning meeting, and then there's the small matter of preaching at the 10am service on Sunday. Then I'm done, apart from a review meeting with the incumbent of the parish to look at writing a report - that's on Monday after the placement has formally finished.

So there's more to come, but not quite at the manic pace of the first few days and weeks of the placement. Now I need to write some reflections on my placement for the PCC meeting this evening, along with constructively critical comments about the parish! Hmmm.

For those in peril on the sea

Yesterday I was involved in the funeral of Don, who had been Merchant Navy man during the war. The service was a superb tribute to him and to all his comrades who worked to keep Britain's supply lines open despite the prowling U-Boats. The Sheringham Shantymen (several of whom had RNLI pagers on their belts) gave wonderfully moving renditions of a couple of traditional farewell sea shanties, and we sang 'the Naval hymn', from which the title of this post is taken.

Today was my day off, and following an afternoon of DIY labour in my father-in-law's house, we took a stroll along the sea front in the early evening. As we got to the sea front, I noticed that the sea was looking a little rough - too rough for swimming - then I saw three people in the water very close to one of the groynes. We soon realised one of the three was an RNLI lifeguard, who was doing his best to prevent the two teenagers from meeting a gruesome end. We watched as the lifeguard successfully got them round the groyne and onto the beach. At that point, the RNLI lifeboat, which had just been scrambled, roared onto the scene about a minute too late to offer assistance.

The lifeguard had rocketed along the seafront on his bike after getting the call. He'd gone straight into the water, despite the crashing waves, the strong currents and the jagged rocks. When he came out, he was clearly exhausted, but his first thought was to assess his patients and tend to their needs. If he hadn't been so quick to react, I think there would have been some significant injuries, and possibly deaths.

Two striking reminders in as many days of the importance of those whose calling is to protect people around our coasts. Don's favourite poem was read at the funeral yesterday, and it spoke of the unsung heroes of the merchant navy. I have long thought of the RNLI as contemporary unsung heroes, and that they should be state funded; what I witnessed today confirmed this for me.

More news from the coast

It seems to have been some time since my last post, and as LittleLanky is fast asleep beside me and DrLanky is downstairs marking some OU coursework, I have a rare opportunity to blog.

The last few weeks have been busy in my placement. Since the Petertide ordinations and our mad dash to Lancashire, I have been worked hard in the parish. Funerals (and related visits), Weddings (plus rehearsals), Fabric committee meetings, extraordinary PCCs, sermons... plus the usual involvement in Sunday services - reading, deaconing, serving... you get the idea.

After six weeks in Sheringham it's starting to feel like we've done this particular experience now. I have a week and a half left on placement, and we've begun to psychologically adjust to going back to Cambridge. It's been good to be here, but we now want to go home.

Placements like this one are meant to do many things for the ordinands. Learning new things, having new experiences, seeing the reality of parish ministry etc. But the single biggest thing it's done for me is to point out that I really want to get into a curacy, and get on with ministry. I'm happy to embark upon a second year at theological college, and this blog will all too soon be overtaken by academic concerns, but my experience of parish life in Sheringham has got me excited about getting on with this priesthood malarkey. That's probably a good 'learning outcome'!

We should start to get the first clues about where I might be going for a curacy at some point in August. I seem to spend many of my rare idle moments impatiently speculating about where the bishops might want to put me. When that part of the process starts, I expect I will have to be quite tight-lipped until things are confirmed, so whilst I might have some news soon, I won't be able to post anything here for some time. The truth is, I just want to know! Patience is a virtue I haven't quite cracked.

On the positive side, test cricket returns tomorrow. The prospect of a climb to the top of the world test rankings, and a scrap with former England mastermind, Duncan Fletcher, are enough to get me skipping with excitement! Shame I have a funeral tomorrow afternoon, which given the distance from here to the crematorium will occupy me all afternoon. And we can't get Channel 5 here. Do they have an online catchup service?

Judging books by covers

As I think I may have mentioned, sheringham has a few elderly inhabitants, and today I got to 'go solo' and visit 2 different couples who are longtime members of the church to which I am attached. It's very tempting to make assumptions about people before you've spoken to them properly, and it's easy to dismiss people on the basis of their age and infirmities. I'm sure I've done it in the past, though I make a conscious effort not to.

One of the conversations I had today was with a retired military man. We talked and talked, covering lots of varied ground from old testament source criticism, the new atheists, the use of military idiom in civvy life, local history to Greek philosophy... In the end, I was there for nearly 2 hours, and had a really nice time. I'm not sure if that's the aim of a pastoral visit!

My point is, though, that it's easy to forget that in our congregations, there are many elderly people who we neglect on an intellectual level, and who need to be cared for in more ways than just the physical ones. I know when I get out in to full time ministry that my time will be pressured, but I hope I can make space to do what I did today; to sit and talk with people who don't often get the opportunity to exercise their intellects in that way.

Back to the coal face

We returned to sheringham last night after a mad dash to cambridge for the back end of leavers' week at Westcott, and for DrLanky to lead her OU tutorial in Chelmsford. Lots of miles, lots of jobs, lots of goodbyes.

Neither DrLanky nor I are very good at goodbyes. We tend to prefer to slip away from things like the leavers' party without having to get too emotional. The truth is, though, that whether you're there for all the hugs and kisses or not, the emotion is still present. In one year at Westcott, we've made some really good friends, some of whom have now left to do what they've trained for. It feels very right, and also very hard.

The good news is that there are many friends who will be at Westcott when we return for another year of madness, so the world isn't quite as scary as it was at this point last year.

So we're back in sheringham again, and today was full-on. I went to all three services at St Peter's, and ended up in the choir for the taize service, and canting the verses for a sung psalm. It was good to be there for pretty much the whole day, to see what it's really like for the parish priest who ends up involved in everything on a Sunday. I feel like, after today, I'm starting to become more known and integrated into parish life, and even in the short time I've been here, I'm starting to feel a sense of belonging.

Tomorrow kicks off with a diary meeting for the coming week. I know I have funerals to be involved with, and I'll be interested to see how they go. I'll keep you posted, so keep checking back for the next installment.

An amazing privilege

Today's round of pre-funeral visiting has reinforced a view I already held about priesthood; the feeling of privilege at being allowed into people's lives at the most difficult of times.

I felt enormously privileged to be able to be with people as they planned the funerals of their loved ones. Both women we visited today were truly grateful for the visit from the parish priest and me. Watching my supervisor and the way he operated was truly educational, and I feel lucky to be working with him, but the real privilege was being permitted to be with people; not delivering pithy answers or platitudes, but simply being with them for a little while, and letting them know that they mattered to the church and to God.

One of the things that has stuck with me from the Pastoral Studies course I sat this year is that, as a culture, we have forgotten how to grieve. Today reminded me that a large part of the church's role in a place like Sheringham is to give people the support and the structures in which they can be allowed to grieve. I always knew funeral ministry was important; today just confirmed it for me.

The good thing about a 2 month placement is that with these, and probably the next few funeral visits I'm involved in, I will be able to be involved in the funeral itself. This is important for me as funerals have always been my emotional achilles heel (I'm a bit of a blubber when I get going). But as I get further into training, I feel like I'm starting to bring it all into a kind of professional perspective. That's not to say that I think I can turn off my feelings - I hope I'll always feel things deeply - but I think I'm starting to see what my role will be as a Priest. Just don't ask me to define it just yet.

Seaside placement update

Today is Sunday, traditionally held to be the only day of the week when vicars actually do any work. Having been highlighted during the 10am service as 'our student on placement' and also as 'son in law of Fr Andrew', I had no shortage of people who wanted to talk to me over coffee. It's a peculiar thing I've noticed before in even the most lovely of churches; when you're identified as someone in a parish, you're suddenly inundated with greetings and interest.

I have been to many services at the church, as my father-in-law is a member of the ministry team. DrLanky is known to those who've been around since before she went off to uni, and I've always just been the husband-of and son-in-law-of someone else. I'm not saying I haven't been welcomed in the past, but I simply notice a difference in welcome when you're identified as someone.

The same thing happened at my attachment parish when I first arrived. People are perfectly civil and polite to you, but when they find out who you are, there's a queue of people who want to talk with you.

What would it be like if churches greeted everyone who we didn't recognise as if they were someone? Sure, some would run for the hills, but I'm guessing most would be flattered and affirmed. What do you think?

Another world

So I've arrived in Sheringham to start my 'long' placement, and ironically, it's the first time I've been able to sit down and blog for ages. My incumbent has Friday as his day off, and as I'm shadowing him, it's my day off too. A day off? What's that?

In many respects, Norfolk is another world; even compared to the peculiar city of Cambridge. Time is slower here; people say hello to each other (that bit's like being back up north), and there are no motorways in this neck of the woods, so getting anywhere takes a while. The northern coast of Norfolk is a haven for retirement, and that's one of the reasons I wanted to come here. Having spent the last 12 years of my church life involved with a university chaplaincy, I felt a bit disconnected from real life; in particular, the end of life. My placement here will give me plenty of experience of working with the elderly, and I feel that's important.

As I read all the fuss about ++Rowan's recently espoused opinions, I find myself frustrated that I have not yet been able to track down a single copy of the New Statesman in Sheringham; I would actually like to read it for myself! Having visited 4 different sellers of newspapers and magazines, my prejudices have been reinforced. I'm in the Daily Mail belt, and I'll have to remember that as I get further into my placement. It will be interesting to see if the sermons on Sunday refer to ++Rowan.

Anyway, LittleLanky is stirring from her afternoon nap beside me. Time to do daddy duty. Stay tuned for further updates from the seaside.