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Dear Friends,

As we begin the week of 31st October, Halloween is all around us — a time when children dress up as ghosts and witches, and we play with the idea of fear and darkness in a safe, fun way. Halloween originated from ancient Celtic festivals, particularly Samhain, which marked the end of the harvest and a time when people believed the boundary between the living and the dead was thin. Over time, it merged with Christian traditions such as All Hallows’ Eve, the night before All Saints’ Day.

As Christians, we can engage with Halloween thoughtfully. While enjoying costumes and pumpkin lights, we are reminded that the darkness we play with is not the same as the real challenges of life. We are called to shine God’s light in the world — through acts of kindness, compassion, and courage — and to remember that even small gestures can bring hope and warmth to those around us.

The Bible reminds us:

"The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it." (John 1:5)

This week, as children delight in playful frights and communities light up with candles and lanterns, let us also remember that God’s light shines in every real shadow. May we reflect that light in our words and actions, offering love and hope wherever it is needed.

With every blessing,

Revd Annette

Some years ago, with the help of others I set up a personal website. It’s still out there and it is called Routes that Refresh with my name attached! It is a play on words: roots/routes! It contains the message that deep roots come from using well-travelled routes.  And to underline this I chose a verse from Jeremiah:  

“Thus says the Lord, ‘Stand at the crossroads, and look, and ask for the ancient paths where the good way lies: and walk in it, and you will find rest for your souls’” Jeremiah 6:16.

The origins of an ancient path are interesting.   Behind our house across the field, you can spot paths made by animals; hares, deer and badgers quite possibly. They run down the field and through hedges and are well worn, but are too small for humans. Additionally, these paths go through places where we would be trespassing.  Walker’s paths are marked on maps, or with signs, as footpaths, bridleways or lanes. They are legally enforced and are for walkers a glory of the English countryside, peculiar to our nation and which you will not find in France or Germany. It says something about the rights of the ordinary walker vis a vis the landowner: the give and take of access to the countryside.

A step up from footpaths and their various definitions for differing modes of travel (eg feet,  cycles, horses or vehicles) are roads which also come in many forms: from a narrow country lane to a motorway.  They carry different speed restrictions and types of traffic.   Some of these roads or paths are truly ancient going back, like Ermine Street, to Roman days and so have seen two thousand years of use already. They are indeed, “ancient paths.”

Paths or roads, as our verse from Jeremiah implies, require choices and this is no clearer than at a crossroads.  Indeed, the very thought is a metaphor for living.  We sometimes say, “I am a crossroads”, meaning I could take several routes from here. Well, four to be precise: go back the way I came, go straight ahead, or left or right.  Faced with that choice we need to know where we are going and whether the path will get us there, else we could get lost!  Surely that is a parable too!

Jeremiah tells us when we are at a crossroads, we need to take a tried and tested path, one that is commended to us. In his words we are to look for the “ancient paths”.  For me, these paths are to be found in the Scriptures with wisdom going back at least three thousand years but encapsulated especially in the teaching of Jesus and the call to faith in him. Furthermore, in recent years, I have written too about the teaching and lives of the Church Fathers who lived in the first five hundred years of the Church’s life. They too were journeying, often struggling to express the faith in the context of their times, and often facing persecution. They sought to interpret ‘the ancient paths’ for their day and for those who came after them. Walking in these ancient paths of wisdom, Jeremiah said would bring rest to our souls.  How wonderful!  And this promise reflects Jesus’ own words, “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls for my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” Matthew 11;28-30. Surely more than anything else that is the incentive to seek out the ancient paths. Good travelling!   

Patrick Whitworth           

In what seems like no time at all I find myself in the second year of my curacy here in Walbury Beacon!  Once again, the nights are drawing in, the natural world is changing colour, and after a recent Harvest Service it occurred to me that things are coming up that will not be ‘firsts’ for me anymore.   Soon we will mark All Souls, with our special bereavement service, then Remembrance Sunday, and in no time at all I will enter my second Advent season here with you, and the beginning of another liturgical year.  

As my faith journey did not begin in the Anglican tradition, I used to find it rather odd that year after year we seem to celebrate or in some way mark the same thing, around the same time of year, over and over again.  Isn’t that just tradition for traditions sake, a bit rigid, predictable, rather boring?

But as I have begun to appreciate the gentle rhythm of the changing seasons in the church, it has occurred to me that each of the special days, events and seasons speak to us of something that God has done, and is doing in our world.   Every occasion tells us a story, of God’s on-going involvement in our world.  Harvest speaks to us of God’s creative and regenerative power, of his bountiful provision for us, and his mandate to share what we have, and as we are blessed, to pass that blessing on to others.  As the natural world around us appears to wither and fall dormant, it hints at the death and resurrection of Christ which is so fundamental to our faith.  This leads us into a time of deep reflection, allowing ourselves to remember, and to grieve, for those who have gone before us, and to have hope in that resurrection life and the promise that God will make all things new.

It is easy to see how the big events – Advent, Christmas, Easter – tell the Christian story, but if we look a little more closely, perhaps the smaller festivals can also be mined for deeper meaning, for their spiritual and indeed personal significance.   As humans we can tend to have short memories, we need markers, reminders, points of reference.  This is not a modern phenomenon: in the Old Testament there are a number of accounts of people setting up memorial stones to remind them of something particular that God had done, a reminder of his faithfulness (if you like a bit of OT study, have a look at Gen.28.10-22 or 1 Samuel 7.7-12 for some fascinating little stories!).  

Our special seasons and services are one way of ‘setting up a stone’, placing a marker, creating a space in which to remember God’s action in and for our world.   So, a challenge for us all as the liturgical cogs keep on turning, to not fall into thinking ‘same old, same old’, but to reflect and seek out meaning, perhaps dig a little deeper, and notice something we hadn’t seen before, as we enter each new season.  

I really do want to apologise for the length of this weekly letter – it’s rather a big ask, I know!
It is not the letter I had drafted 10 days ago, on an entirely different subject – but last Friday’s announcement from the CNC made me rethink, and do a little research, which I share with you.

Bishop Sarah; the Rt Revd and Rt Hon Dame Sarah Mullally, DBE, Archbishop of Canterbury designate – “primus (or I suppose, in this instance – ‘prima’ ) inter pares”: “first amongst equals” – has something of a history of “firsts”:-
She was the youngest person to be appointed as Chief Nursing Officer, NHS England, in 1999; one of the first two women to be consecrated as bishops at Canterbury Cathedral in 2015; as Bishop of Crediton later that year, the first woman to conduct an ordination; from 2018 the first woman Bishop of London (the third-ranking post in the Church of England); and in March next year, she will become the first woman Archbishop of Canterbury – the head of the Anglican Community worldwide, as well as of our own familiar CofE.

This announcement a week ago, was for many members of the Church, a matter of great rejoicing; for others, a deep sense of sadness and even betrayal.

Why is the election of a female Primate so controversial and divisive in these days when gender equality is now enshrined in the law** – of this land, at least?  The reasons, of course, are complicated, rooted in centuries of ecclesiastical history and deeply embedded in the faith of many individuals, groups and national churches.

One issue – mainly, I believe, for those within, or verging on, Roman Catholicism – is the view that a priest is the earthly representation of Jesus for his flock; Jesus was male, therefore a female cannot embody his representation and so cannot fulfil the principal role of priesthood.

Another is the theology of Apostolic Succession.  This depends on the fact that the Twelve whom Jesus chose as his Apostles, to be his successors after his Ascension, were all male.  Well, yes – in that totally patriarchal society – he did not have a lot of choice.  It was OK – just – for a band of blokes to go wandering around the Galilean countryside, sleeping rough if necessary and dependent on the hospitality of strangers in the towns and villages for board and lodging. 

But for a woman?  She would have been publicly shamed and probably stoned to death.  

As the centuries rolled by, those male Apostles appointed other male disciples as deacons and Church leaders, who in turn appointed their male successors – and so on, according to the theory, in an unbroken line of male Priesthood.  Every priest thus appointed can, it is argued, therefore trace his ordination directly back to the Apostles and through them to Jesus himself.  And any intervening female breaks the chain, invalidates the consecration and irretrievably contaminates the one who performed it.

Other beliefs which have been cited as forbidding the ordination of women are founded on words and injunctions in the Bible itself, eg: 

·        1 Timothy 2:11‒14: “Let a woman learn quietly with all submissiveness.  I do not permit a woman to teach or to exercise authority over a man; rather, she is to remain quiet. For Adam was formed first, then Eve; and Adam was not deceived, but the woman was deceived and became a transgressor.”  This seems to be all-encompassing – disallowing any professional or managerial employment of women, other perhaps than in all-female organisations.  It is somewhat reminiscent I feel of Taliban current interpretation of Shariah Law; it is not, however, totally representative of secular society in many of the countries where the national church is reacting strongly against this appointment;

·        1 Corinthians 14:34–35: “Women should be silent in the churches. For they are not permitted to speak but should be subordinate, as the law also says. If there is something they want to learn, let them ask their husbands at home. For it is shameful for a woman to speak in church.”  Pretty unequivocal if taken as it stands, if given universal application.  Paul was writing here, in the 1st Century, to a specific church which seems to have had some very specific and serious issues; was his intention therefore simply to address some totally local and temporary context?  Or was this to be considered as a general, permanent injunction?  Or is it no more than a reflection of the social expectations of the time?

After Bishop Sarah’s election was announced, I did some reading around the experiences of women in the Church – BBC interviews, newspaper articles (including the Church Times) – some written by journalists, others by clergy (mainly but not exclusively female).

I was truly shocked at the number of times the word “misogyny” was used by women to describe incidents and atmospheres in their lives as female priests – sometimes with reference to parishioners and congregants, sometimes to church officials, and sometimes, shamefully, to fellow priests.  Bishop Sarah herself is reported to have been reduced to tears at General Synod earlier this year when describing the “many micro-aggressions" to which she has been subjected as a female priest and bishop.

In the paradoxical institution that is the Church of England, this next Archbishop will be heading up an organisation in which there are more than 500 parishes where female priesthood is not accepted or deemed acceptable; these will legally be able to bar their own leader from preaching or presiding over the Eucharist within their churches.  And in the wider world of the Anglican Communion, while Church leaders within many countries have responded to her appointment with joy and thanksgiving – there are those who feel unable to acknowledge a woman as first primate and whose provinces are pondering their current and future position as Anglican Churches.

Viewed politically – maybe even practically – rather than spiritually, this could be seen as a risky, possibly unwise appointment.

Dame Sarah is a strong, articulate, courageous, optimistic, practical, compassionate, resilient and faith-filled woman, who said in a recent interview “Stepping into Church leadership was the biggest decision of my life.”  

And as she takes this seemingly almost inevitable next step along her journey – Dame Sarah, Bishop Sarah, soon-to-be Archbishop Sarah, will need all those qualities in abundance; but above all else she will be in need of all our prayers.  

And so, as a benefice, as parishes and as individuals, let us be active, steadfast and supportive of both Sarah and our Church at this critical but exciting time.

**   As a religious body, the Church can choose to claim exception from some elements of Equality Law.

And if you want to hear from +Sarah herself – here is a link to the Anglican Communion News Service – her first official address as Archbishop Designate:
http://www.anglicannews.org/news/2025/10/the-rt-revd-and-rt-hon-dame-sarah-mullally-gives-her-first-address-as-archbishop-designate-at-canterbury-cathedral.aspx

“I know this is a huge responsibility but I approach it with a sense of peace and trust in God to carry me as He always has.”      (Bishop Sarah)

Recently, I had a vivid reminder of the difference of town and country. About two weeks ago I went to London during the week-long tube strike, which was difficult to fathom in itself as drivers, although working unsocial hours, are paid £72,000 a year! Actually, I enjoyed going on the buses from Paddington to Chelsea to meet friends. En route I met an Ethiopian going to work, and a member of the House of Lords catering team at Marble Arch!  I expect their Lordships have a late breakfast!  But in the afternoon, it took an hour and a half to get from Sloane Square to the National Gallery and then nearly two hours to get from the NG to Paddington. The fun of being on the buses which seemed more and more infrequent (at least on my routes) wore off!  

In the National Gallery I went to the one-room Exhibition of pictures by the French artist Millet who in the mid 19th Century painted pictures of French rural life in Normandy, and was a great inspiration to Van Gogh. One of Jean François Millet’s paintings which was central in the exhibition and on loan from the Musée D’Orsay, Paris was the Angelus. Painted in 1859, it shows two workers harvesting potatoes with heads bowed praying the Angelus spoken three times a day at sunrise, midday and sunset to remember the Incarnation of Christ and the visitation of the Angel Gabriel to Mary.  In the background is the spire of Chailly-en-Bière whose bells may have been striking midday.  Everything stopped for prayer amidst the hard work of harvesting.   It is a memorable scene which underlines both the uncertainty of agriculture, dependent as it is on things beyond human control, and the pious devotion of the workers on God.  Millet himself said he could remember that his grandmother never failed to make him stop work in the fields to say the Angelus prayer and remember the departed.

In a few weeks we shall have our Harvest Festivals in the parishes. And even if tractor drivers don’t generally switch off their engines and say a prayer, we can come together to give our thanks for both their work and the crops that we have been able to harvest. It has been an unusual year with long periods of no rain, low yields but at the same time bumper crops of fruit and apples. The juicers have never been so busy!  And already fields are ploughed and ready for sowing as the cycle begins again; and grazing animals have the chance to enjoy some early autumn grass. It’s time for us to bow our heads in prayer and offer our own thanksgiving, and forget the mayhem of city life and time spent on ,or waiting for , the buses!

Patrick Whitworth           

I really appreciated and enjoyed Alison’s letter last week reminding us of the advice in various places in the New Testament on how we manage relationships and disagreements – so thank you for that, Alison, and if any of you missed it, do check it out on the website.

I started thinking about the word “DIS-agree”.  My faithful and ancient Oxford Shorter (ie only 2 hefty volumes) Dictionary offers: “To differ in opinion” – a mild definition.

But it has acquired a – dare I say it – somewhat “disagreeable” connotation.  Which is in many ways rather a pity: it’s when we disagree over something that we really start to question what we think and feel and believe; it’s when we reflect more carefully and cogitate more thoroughly.

A couple of weeks ago, Alison and I were both involved with the Family Service at Kintbury.  We immediately agreed on the reading we would focus on and build the service around.  But as we talked and planned together, we discovered that we completely disagreed as to how that reading should be interpreted.

I found our discussions really challenging and stimulating – much more so than if we had each drawn the same conclusion from the passage.  I found myself researching the geography involved, the social and cultural context and varying likelihoods and possibilities.  And we ended up each still holding our original opinion – we DISagreed.  It was great!  We offered the congregation the two alternatives with some relevant background – and left them to make up their own minds.

All too often these days we see and read and hear politicians, national leaders, people in any sort of authority, crowds and individuals in the street and on social media disagreeing in truly disagreeable ways.  Rigid opinions and an inability to tolerate alternative views lead to offensive language and violent, destructive actions.  And, as in the last few days in the States – another young family is left without a father, another wife without a husband.

Let’s embrace disagreement as the catalyst to creative thinking it can and should be.  Let’s enjoy and learn from our differences of opinion.  And – adapted from the words of the writer to the Colossians: “Let our speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that we may know how we ought to answer each person.”
Jenny

Recently, I have been struck afresh by just how much the New Testament writers have to say about how disciples of Jesus should conduct their relationships with one another.  Written some two thousand years ago, many of these words resound with wisdom that is still entirely applicable today.

I’m sure most of us are familiar with the passage from the letter to the Corinthians read so often at weddings, ‘Love is patient, love is kind, love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude.  It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth (1 Cor 13.4-6).  What an amazing blueprint not only for a sound marriage, but for many other kinds of relationships!

Our relationships with one another can be the source of the greatest joy and pleasure when they go well.  Our lives are enriched by both giving and receiving love and friendship, support and companionship in many shapes and forms.  But when things go wrong, the potential to hurt each other, and to cause pain, is also enormous.  

The writer to the Ephesians says ‘Be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you.’ (Ephesians 4.32).

For Christians, the idea of forgiveness is really important.  In Jesus, God has reached out to us in love, welcoming us back into relationship with him, regardless of who we are, where we’ve been, what we’ve done.  Forgiveness means freedom, release, healing.   And here the writer is urging us to extend the same generosity to each other.

But forgiveness doesn’t mean saying something was okay when it really wasn’t, sweeping things under the carpet.  It doesn’t mean being a doormat, accepting unfair or hurtful behaviour, or staying in a situation that is damaging.  Instead, it means acknowledging that something really hurts, has got broken, and needs attention.  This requires honesty and courage.  

The writer to the Ephesians also calls us to be ‘tender-hearted’.  Burying anger and resentment, holding grudges, all these things can result in bitterness, hard-heartedness, which closes us down to the prospect of loving, and finding any joy again in our connection with others.  Then all parties are the poorer as a result.  

I could go on with more, there are just so many examples of scripture offering guidelines for living well with each other. Why not have a delve in yourself and see what you find!  (Try Romans 12.3,10, Philippians 2.3-4, Colossians 3.12-15, 1 Peter 3.8-9, to get a flavour.)   And let it speak to you – this is God’s living word.  You may feel a little nudge to put something right, let go of something, change an attitude, or perhaps simply to pray for a relationship to grow or to heal. 

Dear friends,

Now and then, someone will quietly say to me, “I’m not sure I believe in God… but I can see the value of church.” It’s usually said a bit nervously, as if they’re expecting me to look disappointed or launch into persuasion.

But I always smile — because actually, that’s one of the most honest and hopeful things anyone can say.

Let me say this clearly and gladly: the church is not just for people who’ve got it all sorted. Most of us haven’t! Church is for people who are searching, wondering, doubting, questioning, and sometimes just coming along for the companionship and coffee. That’s not only okay — it’s welcome.

If you’ve ever thought about coming into church but held back because you weren’t sure what you believed, please know that the door is still very much open. Church is not a club for the convinced. It’s a family of ordinary people who walk together through life’s joys and muddles, and sometimes discover God walking with us.

Here are just a few reasons why it might be worth giving church a go, even if your faith is uncertain:

1. You don’t have to believe everything to come.

You won’t be handed a test or asked to sign on the dotted line. Faith isn’t a switch you flick on — it’s more like a journey, with plenty of pauses, hills, doubts, and surprises along the way. You’re welcome to walk it at your own pace.

2. Church can be a breathing space.

In a noisy world, the church can be a place to be still, sing, think, belong, or just sit with a cup of tea and not have to explain yourself. It offers gentle rhythms and familiar faces, and that can bring deep comfort, even if you’re not sure about God.

3. It’s a place of real community.

At its best, the church is a group of people who look after each other — bringing meals when someone’s unwell, phoning when someone’s lonely,

helping practically when life gets heavy. In our villages, that kind of care still matters deeply.

4. You might just find something more.

Many have come along just for the community and found themselves quietly moved by something deeper. And even if you don’t, being among people who try (however imperfectly) to live by love, kindness, forgiveness, and hope is never a bad thing.

5. You don’t have to pretend.

If you’re not sure what you believe, just say so. I promise no one will mind. In fact, we might just say, “Yes — me too, some days.”

So if you’re curious, unsure, hopeful, lonely — or simply wondering what church might offer — come and see. There’ll be a warm welcome, a cup of tea, and no expectations.

With every blessing,

Revd Annette

Dear friends,

One of the greatest challenges—and privileges—of being part of the Church is learning how to share our faith with others. Over the years, I’ve come to realise that this doesn’t mean having all the answers or knowing what to say in every situation. It means being open. It means being present. It means letting people know they are welcome, without pressure or expectation.

There have, sadly, been times in the Church’s history when evangelism has been done badly. Times when people have felt cornered, judged, or overwhelmed by a faith that was offered too forcefully. I’ve met people who were put off church entirely because of one uncomfortable encounter or one pushy conversation. That’s not what the good news of Jesus is meant to feel like.

For me personally, this kind of ‘hard sell’ approach has never felt right. It’s not the way I’ve come to faith, and it’s not the way I hope to share it. I’d much rather be approachable, honest, and quietly hopeful—someone who makes space for questions and conversation, not someone who rushes to give out answers.

Jesus, when he met people, never forced them in. He simply said, “Come and see.” It was a gentle invitation. He listened. He noticed. He welcomed. And that is the pattern we are called to follow.

So, if you’ve ever felt anxious about the word evangelism, or worried that it means becoming someone you’re not—I hope you find this reassuring. Evangelism at its best isn’t about loud voices or clever arguments. It’s about living openly and inviting others, naturally and graciously, into something deeper.

That might mean asking a friend to come to church with you. It might mean simply being the person others feel they can talk to about life and faith. And if someone new comes through our doors—perhaps nervous, perhaps unsure—let’s make sure they are met with warmth, with dignity, and with a quiet joy that speaks of something real.

Faith grows not in the forced moments, but in the honest ones. Let’s keep creating space for those.

With that in mind, I want to remind you that in January, we’ll be starting both a Youth Alpha and an Adult Alpha—safe, welcoming spaces where people can explore faith, ask their questions, and have real conversations about life and meaning. If you’ve been wondering how to invite someone to church—or if you’re exploring faith yourself—these could be a good place to begin.

And if someone new comes through our doors—perhaps nervous, perhaps unsure—let’s make sure they are met with warmth, with dignity, and with a quiet joy that speaks of something real.

Faith grows not in the forced moments, but in the honest ones. Let’s keep creating space for those.

Love and prayers

Revd. Annette

Like Alison, I have been able to draw lessons from the place where we went on holiday last week in France.  Alison drew inspiration from the countryside in North Yorkshire previously scarred by mining but now restored and renewed as part of a national park. A place of beauty and re-creation.

Olivia and I stayed in an apartment in a village in North Brittany close to Roscoff where the ferry comes in from Plymouth.  Our Location was Place de La Libération, next to Place de la République and Place de General de Gaulle 18 June 1940. The three linked squares are like an education in French history.  The Republic, of which there have been five- the last begun by De Gaulle in the Algerian crisis of 1958, was first established after the Revolution in 1792.   In 1958 I was living in France with my family near Versailles as my father served at SHAPE, the Allied command then based in France. I was seven.   It was only a matter of years since France had been liberated from German occupation during the years of Vichy and the disliked Fourth Republic.

De Gaulle, awkward and passionate about La France, had appealed to his people to resist in his famous broadcast from London on June 18 1940. The Free French forces were founded and the path to liberation was begun, but only made possible by the vast efforts of the Allies culminating in the invasion of France on D-Day and a subsequent gruelling, but victorious, campaign.  Each year Olivia and I swim on Sword Beach, closest to Ouistreham where you take the ferry to Portsmouth, and remember those brave forces.

Liberation is a word of such importance that its emotions and reality can be hard to summarise. Indeed, only those who suffered occupation by an alien power can truly understand its significance, and only those who have brought about liberation can truly understand its cost and meaning.  A veteran soldier who had served with Special forces under David Sterling in N Africa who I knew said that people only care about two things, “love and freedom’.

And of course, at the heart of Christianity is the notion of freedom or liberation.  Jesus himself said, as recorded John’s Gospel, “If the Son of Man sets you free, you are free indeed” (John 8:36). The freedom is freedom from the fear of death, freedom from a self-filled life, freedom from the grip of materialism, freedom from the captivity of other people’s opinions and more. St Paul says “For Freedom Christ has set you free don’t submit again to a yoke of slavery” (Galatians 5:1). 

For our part we are called to experience and exercise this freedom and that we ourselves know this inner freedom, hope and love through faith; and can invite others to share in this freedom too. All of us should live, not for a week on holiday, but always in Place de La Libération having heard the summons of another incomparable leader.

Patrick Whitworth