Our Sense of Belonging
Vicar's letter
|
Our Sense of Belonging |
Vicar's letter |
|
There is much concern today about identity, about who we are, where we feel we belong. Who and what are the English? How do they relate to being British? What about newcomers to our land? Are they Indian and British? Are they Muslim and English? Or what?
One beautiful sunny day in September I visited for the first time, the remains of the Roman Villa at Lullingstone in the Derwent Valley. Not only is this in a most beautiful site but the Villa contains significant signs of having a chapel used for Christian worship from the mid to late 300’s. When the villa was excavated in the 1950’s and 1960’s, plaster from an upper room had fallen into the room below. That plaster was taken to the British Museum for reconstruction and there it was found to be full of Christian symbols. It is thought that this upper room was the chapel of the villa. I stood there, pondering a Roman priest presiding at the Eucharist in that small upper room for a Roman family in this beautiful Kent valley.
I drove on to Bayham Abbey on the Border between Kent and Sussex, again for my first visit. It was built as a Premonstratensian Abbey on the river Teise around 1210. This order of monks were known as White Canons; they had slightly more freedom outside the monastery than most monks but at home they lived a strict life, probably about 12 monks with an Abbot. One can see the remains of the great church, cloister, refectory and chapter house. This house had two gates, the Kent gate whose remains survive and the Sussex gate. I grew up in East Sussex and with my grandparents drove around that lovely countryside inland between Eastbourne and the Kent border. I have now lived more of my life in Kent than in Sussex. Again, in that beautiful peaceful valley I could almost hear the monks singing their daily offices.
Then on to Burwash in the glorious valley of the Dudwell River, Rudyard Kipling’s home, which I visited many times since the 1950’s. When I was 8, I had a wonderful English teacher who used to read us his books, particularly ‘Puck of Pook’s Hill’ and ‘Rewards and Fairies’. There with Dan and Una we learnt English history through the lens of that part of Sussex. Rudyard Kipling, I consider, made the best of a difficult life. Sent away to this strange land of England by his English parents living in India he was treated cruelly both at boarding school and by his English relatives. Later he contracted a difficult marriage; one daughter died young and his beloved son was killed in France during the First World War. His grasp of the Christian faith was slight. I will always be grateful for his wonderful use language as well as by the imagination by which he recreated the history of England as seen from Sussex.
Then in the late afternoon, on to another favourite place I have visited regularly since the 1950’s, Sissinghurst Castle Garden, the medieval house rebuilt twice and then abandoned to become a French prisoner of war camp in the Napoleonic wars and then a pig farm, made into the most beautiful and entrancing garden with a mote remaining on two sides. What can be more English than a garden? Who could be more English than the creators of this garden, Harold Nicolson, diplomat, parliamentarian and writer son of a British Ambassador who became head of the Foreign Office and Vita Sackville – West, writer and only daughter of the owners of Knole where she lived until her marriage. This fine garden which is never the same from one visit to the next was, at the end of Vita’s life and after her death looked after by two German women gardeners. When I was there this time, the garden was full of admiring Germans. Harold and Vita had no time for the Christian faith; they were very much imbued with the secular values that dominated their class and generation without encountering a really faithful church. Yet they had a keen eye for beauty and our generation is the beneficiaries of their gift.
Their writings are very keen commentaries of the changing life of the first half of the 20th century. Their well written books have inspired their grandson Adam Nicolson to be a fine writer. Among his books is one called ‘Perch Hill’ the story of the farm he brought in the Dudwell valley near Burwash. He has also written a fine account of the making of the King James I Bible as well, more recently, an account of the Battle of Trafalgar and the social and naval factors that influenced the battle and how it was fought. A reminder that Nelson, leading the British navy, hoisted a signal saying ‘England expects that today every man will do his duty.’
I consider that I belong to many developing identities. A Christian, a member of the Church of England, someone with roots in Sussex and Kent but with a wife, parents in law, children in law who are American, German, Dutch and Spanish. Among those who live in my neighbourhood are many who have lived their whole lives in a few streets nearby, others are from South Asia, Nepal, Africa, Poland, the Czech Republic and elsewhere. Visiting the places I did on that fine sunny day put me in touch with many of the things I value in my story and the story of our land. This is not just nostalgia, it is exploring some of the roots from which I have developed and am still developing.
It is so important to respect and value our own and other peoples’ stories and together try to build a good life in which we all have both our unique interests, heritage and commitments as well as seeking together to enhance our common humanity and that of our neighbours in a way that fosters human flourishing. For me that is the way inspired above all by our relationship with God: Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
Christopher Morgan - Jones
|
