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News, Updates, Thoughts

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 

I have recently returned from holidaying on the North York Moors, where we were tucked away in a cottage on the hillside in Rosedale – a stunningly beautiful spot surrounded on every side by dramatic skylines and seemingly endless swathes of purple heather.  And silence – other than the birdsong and gentle sound of grazing sheep and cattle.  All as nature intended, or so it would seem.  But in fact, this valley was once an industrial centre for ironstone mining, and would have been anything but peaceful.  What are now grassy byways were once railway tracks.  Nestled in the hillside are what look like romantic ruins, but are actually the remains of mineshafts and huge kilns.  The soft lumps and bumps, now easy on the eye and a good place to sit with a flask of coffee, are in fact piles of waste dumped out of the kilns, now reclaimed by nature.    A landscape worked, depleted, reshaped, but now reclaimed, flourishing.  Damaged, but somehow astonishingly beautiful.  Full of life now, but with evidence still of its past, bearing its scars.   

This spoke to me of how we too are both beautiful and broken.  Made in the image of God, we are ‘very good’ (Genesis 1.31), and of inestimably great value to our creator (Psalm 8).   But like the landscape I’ve described, we too get bent out of shape.  Our resistance to our creator, our rebellion against living according to his ways, our reluctance to give him his rightful place in our lives, all of these mar his image in us.  Furthermore, our life experiences can damage us, things happen that hurt us, deplete us, change us, scar us.     

But just as nature is irrepressible in its fight back, God is in the business of reclamation, we are his great restoration plan!   He calls us constantly with his steadfast love and compassion, offering forgiveness, healing, rebuilding what is broken.  Changing us, re-forming us into his image.  Bringing green shoots of new life, even when the landscapes of our lives look totally barren.  In this life we will continue to bear our scars.  But our lives can still be things of great beauty, as we respond to the loving care of our gracious God. 

Dear Friends,

One of the greatest joys in my ministry has been conducting weddings. Over the years, I’ve had the privilege of standing at the front of many churches with lots of different couples – young and not-so-young, nervous and excited, with guests in fascinators, top hats, kilts, sequins, and the occasional questionable novelty tie. And while every wedding has the same deep vows at its heart, no two are ever the same.

There’s something uniquely special about getting married in church. It’s not just the beauty of the building, though a flower-filled country church with sunlight streaming through stained glass is hard to beat. It’s the sense of sacred space, of being part of something greater than ourselves. Here, couples not only make promises to each other, but do so in the presence of God, seeking His blessing and help in all that lies ahead. I often say a wedding is both the most ancient and the most future-facing of ceremonies – rooted in tradition, but bursting with hope.

Of course, love comes in many forms – not only romantic love, but the love between friends, within families, and among neighbours. And for those who are no longer married, for whatever reason, the message of hope remains: you are held in the love of God, who is faithful and constant, and who brings healing and renewal to every heart.

With all this in mind, I’m delighted to invite you to a joyful afternoon of “Songs and Scones” at the end of the month – a special celebration of love, music, and memories. There will be scones (with homemade jam and perhaps a little tipple!), and of course, some much-loved hymns and anthems. The Benefice Choir will be leading us, and we’re forming a “pop-up” choir for the occasion.

Would you like to join in? We’ll meet in Inkpen Church on Sunday 31st at 3pm for a short practice to include learning a simple anthem. The service will start at 4.30pm– all abilities and levels of confidence welcome. If you’ve ever been tempted to sing in a choir, this is your moment!

I’d also love to hear from you:

What’s your favourite wedding hymn – and why?

Perhaps it was sung at your own wedding, or at a friend’s, or maybe it simply captures something beautiful about love and commitment. We’ll try to include as many as we can in the service, and any that we are unable to include will be sung in services ahead – so nothing gets lost.

Weddings are celebrations of love, of hope, and of the promise of faithful companionship. They’re full of joy, often laughter, sometimes tears – and above all, they point to the deep and abiding love of God, who walks with us in every season of life.

So come and sing with us, raise a glass, and share in a little bit of that joy together.

With every blessing,

Rev Annette

“A Mars a day helps you work, rest and play!”  Do you remember that long-lived and successful advertising jingle?  I certainly do, although I was hardly ever allowed anything like a Mars Bar as a child.  It was a sort of forbidden fruit – doubly delicious on the rare occasions when it was permitted.  I doubt whether the slogan would pass the censors these days – and I wonder whether we would still be influenced by it.

I think it is the arrival of the holiday season that has turned my thoughts towards the rhythms of working and resting and playing.  This was the theme of our Lent discussions this year: “Balance: Rest, Work and Play.”  Notice though, the different word order and the different emphasis that creates.  The series was about the significance of “Sabbath” and whether or how we observe that in our lives.  We had some lively discussions about why it is important, the different ways we celebrate it, and how it contributes to our emotional, spiritual and physical lives and overall wellbeing.

Kintbury School has signed up to a new initiative – OPAL: Outdoor Play and Learning.  I am proud to announce that I have a new title – I am now the official “Play Governor” for the school.  But I don’t think that will be quite the doddle it sounds as though it might be.  The famous child psychologist Jean Piaget stated “Play is the work of childhood”.  In other words, it is when we are at “play” rather than at formally designated “work” that our minds are most receptive to new experiences and ideas, we think most creatively, and learning has the best opportunity to lodge itself productively within the “little grey cells”.   So we might all benefit from seeking ways to generate meaningful and significant “play” experiences for ourselves and others.

And that is the concept of Sabbath – the Seventh Day of Creation in Genesis, the first book of the Bible – when the Lord God did nothing except enjoy his handiwork – the world, the plants and animals, the mountains, plains, oceans and dry land – and humans.

So whatever you’re doing this summer, I wish you plenty of “Sabbath” – plenty of creative rest – positive playtimes – and maybe even the occasional Mars Bar, or whatever is your equivalent occasional treat.

Enjoy! 
Jenny

 “In my end, is my beginning.”  Words from TS Eliot’s “Four Quartets”, written between 1935 and 1942 – in the shadow of the events in Europe and elsewhere during those years.  The phrase – as with many others from those poems – has haunted me ever since the teen-aged Jennifer purloined a copy from my Godmother’s bookshelf.  (I did return it – I promise!).  The poet had converted to Anglo-Catholic Christianity a few years before he started writing the work, which is full of his soul-searching for meaning in life – probably why it appealed to a teenager.  I didn’t understand it then, and if I’m honest, I don’t really now.  Elsewhere in one of the four poems are the lines:

“We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.”
So perhaps the reader is supposed to respond and explore – rather than seek to comprehend.

I was sharply reminded of this work after taking two interments recently, less than 24 hours apart from each other.  At one of them, we read the passage from the second chapter of Genesis, describing how “the Lord God planted a garden in Eden, in the east; and there he put the man whom he had formed.”  The beginning of time, according to the Bible.  And at the other – a passage from the penultimate chapter of the Book of Revelation, the final book in the Bible, in which John the Elder recounts: “Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more.”  The very end of time as we know it.

A strange and chance juxtaposition of texts – causing me to ponder beginnings and endings and the relationship between them.  Is Time cyclical – as TS Eliot suggests – or linear, as we perceive it in our lives?  Or is it a human invention, fulfilling an ancestral need to put words around the little bounded bit of eternity we claim as our own?  We don’t remember our beginnings – and we can’t know our endings; so is there a link between them, other than the stretch of an individual lifetime?  According to the Apostles’ Creed, we believe in the resurrection – not just of the dead, as per the Nicene Creed – but actually of the body – another mystery.

So much for us to wonder at and puzzle over – so little that we can explain or understand.

Jenny

About Churchyard Rules and Keeping Things Tidy

Dear Friends

I want to take a moment to talk about something close to many of our hearts—our churchyard.

The churchyard is a peaceful and special place where we remember and honour those we have loved and lost. Many of you visit regularly to care for graves, leave flowers, and spend time in quiet reflection. That’s something we value deeply, and it’s part of what makes our parish such a caring and respectful community.

A few concerns have arisen, and I’d like to explain things clearly.

Who Makes the Rules?

First, it’s important to know that the rules about what is and isn’t allowed in the churchyard aren’t made by me or the local church council. These are national rules, set by the Church Commissioners and managed by our diocese. All Church of England churchyards follow the same guidelines.

They’re designed to make sure churchyards remain peaceful, well cared for, and respectful for everyone, both now and for future generations.

Information leaflets explaining the churchyard regulations are available in church and can also be emailed on request. Before any memorial can be placed in the churchyard, a Memorial Application Form must be completed—this applies whether the request comes from a family or a stonemason. The form must be signed by the incumbent (vicar), who is only permitted to approve it if the proposed memorial fully complies with the diocesan regulations. These rules, including permitted materials, sizes, and inscriptions, are set out on the application form that is also signed by the applicant.

Why Some Things Get Removed

Over time, people understandably want to personalise a grave by placing statues, lights, fencing, artificial flowers, or planting shrubs and trees. While this is always done with love, many of these things aren’t permitted under the current rules.

They can cause problems for mowing and maintenance, grow out of control, or affect the appearance and feel of the churchyard for others. Because of this, when general tidying happens, unauthorised items may be removed, especially shrubs and plants, which will usually be taken out promptly.

This isn’t about singling anyone out—it’s simply about looking after the space fairly and properly.

What About the Larger or Older Memorials?

You might have noticed some older or larger memorials that don’t seem to follow the current rules. That’s because they were installed before modern regulations were introduced, and while they remain part of our churchyard’s history, they do not set a precedent for what is allowed today.

In some cases, stones were also installed during interregnums (times when there was no vicar in post), without the proper permissions. Unfortunately, these were never officially authorised—even if they’ve been in place for some time—and again, they do not give permission for others to do the same.

The Archdeacon has the authority to require the removal of any memorial that doesn’t comply, even if it’s been there for several years.

What If a Family Wants Something Outside the Rules?

If a family would like to install a headstone or memorial that doesn’t quite fit within the standard regulations—maybe in terms of size, shape, colour, or design—there is a process called a faculty that can be applied for.

A faculty is special permission granted by the Diocese, similar to planning permission in the secular world. It involves submitting an application with clear reasons for why an exception is being requested. The Chancellor (a legal officer for the diocese) will review the request and decide whether to allow it.

Some families have successfully applied for a faculty and received permission for a non-standard memorial—but it’s not guaranteed. Each case is considered individually and carefully, and the process can take some time.

If you're considering a memorial design that may stretch the usual rules, please speak to me first, and I can help you understand the process and whether a faculty might be needed.

Let’s Work Together

I know these rules can sometimes feel restrictive, especially when grief is still fresh or memories are strong. Please know that none of this is meant to make life more difficult. These rules are in place to protect the peace, dignity, and beauty of our churchyard for everyone.

If you have any questions or concerns, or want to talk about a particular grave, I’m here and happy to help.

We’ve also posted the churchyard regulations and information about the faculty process on the church noticeboard and website.

Thank you for your understanding, your care for this place, and your continued support. Together, we can make sure our churchyard remains a place of rest, respect, and remembrance for many years to come.

With every blessing,

Rev Annette