Nicola LeFanu

The last time I met Nicola LeFanu was at a performance of one of her mother's works in Goldsmiths' Hall - in the late 'Sixties or early 'Seventies. That she is now regarded as a well-established composer in her own right was made abundantly clear from the reception a full house gave to her new music drama Tokaido Road at the Parabola Arts Centre yesterday afternoon.

An operatic equivalent of the road movie, it combines the words of Nancy Gaffield's prize-winning collection of poems with projections of Hiroshige's woodblock prints and Wynn White's contemporary photographs; balletic mime with spoken dialogue and bel canto singing, and a score for six very assorted Eastern and Western instruments that wafts exotically overall.

The pilgrim's dilemma, of when and whether to keep moving on was particularly evocative for me having walked through such distractingly beautiful places in April - divided (like Hiroshige's way) by rivers, the Danube and Rhine in my case.

LeFanu's work, which lasts an hour or so, followed a first half dedicated to classical Japanese pieces for sho and koto, and recent works by Howard Skempton for the same two instruments and oboe. I went along apprehensively, and mainly because I thought Mini would be interested. (She was.) Quite apart from some entrancing instrumental sounds, the staging and singing of LeFanu's work were exceptional: a festival highlight surely.

Nîmes

Others were walking on, but for me the pilgrimage, begun on 2nd April, has ended. Nor do I think I'll return to Einsiedeln, to do more of the Swiss route and link up with the Voie du Puy. It has been a memorable experience (worthy of a separate book), but I enjoyed my time in Germany more than this last week since leaving Konstanz, and not just because of the change in weather.

Try as I might to plan trains to get me from Einsiedeln to join Caroline in the Gers in one day, without going via Paris I couldn't. So tonight I am spending in Nîmes: my photograph shows an interesting juxtaposition of old and new (taken as I walked round the Roman arena).

I feared we were running late at the start of the first leg of my journey, down from 900 metres to near the shore of Lake Zürich, and that I'd miss my connection. Why did I worry? Swiss trains run like clockwork. And the mist cleared as we passed Lac Léman, so at last there was a clear view of some snowy mountains.

After Geneva, where I resisted buying an English newspaper before going through Customs, I watched the scenery change as we passed Annecy, Aix-les-Bains and Chambéry on our way to Valence's whizzy TGV interchange, one line high above the other. From there it was a short and beautiful final evening leg to Nîmes. From the Alps to the Mediterranean in five instalments.

Off tomorrow

As you see from the map of one of the German Jakobswegs, this year I'm walking on a pilgrimage route very far away from Compostela. Starting out on the train from Cheltenham in the morning, I get to Nürnberg late at night. After a day exploring Nürnberg, I set off on Wednesday, hoping to be in Ulm for Palm Sunday and then crossing the border into Switzerland from Konstanz.

This is a link to a map showing the Swiss Compostela routes: I aim to get to Einsiedeln Abbey before the end of the month, all being well. From there it's a question of catching seven more trains in order to join up with Caroline at Auch in France.

I view it all with some trepidation at this stage.

Grumpy old men - 2

For one reason or another, we hadn't been to the Film Society recently - till last night. "The Guard" (released in 2011) is Irish noir, laced with good visual jokes. There were jokes in the script too, but many of them passed me by: never have I found the words of an English-language film so difficult to grasp. A strong case for subtitles throughout!

Delivering Christmas cards earlier, I dropped one in at Catherine Shinn. Her father, Catherine said, was at home decorating an absurdly large Christmas tree: "we don't do minimalism," she added - unnecessarily, if you have ever been to her magnificent shop: see my photograph.

I bumped into another of my "by hand" card recipients as she walked homewards with the shopping: recently having flown back from a pilgrimage/holiday in the Holy Land, she justified her failure to send conventional cards this year by a desire to save trees. Really!!

Which brings me onto the great airport debate, raging anew this week - mostly about where extra capacity should be built. The leader in today's Guardian stands alone, reminding readers that roads (and runways) breed traffic. "The old Mr Cameron," it goes on, "warned that If we don't act now, and act quickly, we could face disaster from the climate. That danger has not gone away, and neither have Whitehall's own projections for a 50% rise of aviation emissions by 2050, projections that make a mockery of a supposedly binding commitment to cut 80% out of total greenhouse gases by the same date."

Fatball slim

In June, I republished in this blog the article I had written for The Tablet on an alternative approach to pilgrimage. Clearly the author of the Parish Practice article in last week's Tablet hadn't taken it to heart, because there he encouraged every parish to consider a pilgrimage to the Holy Land as a means of spiritual enrichment. This spurred me into writing a Letter to the Editor:

In our diocese there are in excess of 150 parishes, and England and Wales is made up of 24 dioceses. If each were to galvanise 20 parishioners into making tracks for Israel - inevitably it would be by air - this would release more than 50,000 metric tons of CO2 equivalent. When Jesus offered to come to the Centurian's house, to minister to his paralysed servant, he was told this was unnecessary: "Just give the word and my servant will be cured." (Matthew 8) Is it really beyond us to learn how to acquire spiritual enrichment today at a lower carbon cost?

I was optimistic about publication, but on opening this week's number... disappointed. Not a sign of my Letter, even in the online Letters Extra. Instead, there's one urging Holy Land pilgrims to make a 20kms. detour from Jerusalem - to visit a village that hosts the country's only brewery, "open to visitors". Jesus wept.

Optimistically again, I hung a bird feeder outside our kitchen window, and filled it with fat balls a month or more ago. Nothing happened... till the other day, when I noticed the fat balls had shrunk quite a bit. And at lunchtime today, we discovered why. This tiny mouse had crawled inside the feeder.

It's the last Summer Bank Holiday weekend, and this evening the culmination of the last Ashes Test has been clashing with Acts 1 and 2 of the last of seven Wagner operas at the Proms: the cricket went out with a frustrating (but hardly mouse-like) whimper, Mark Elder's Parsifal with a satisfying bang.

"Boldly not to go"

This is the title The Tablet has given to an article I wrote for them earlier this year about pilgrimage. After some delay, it is - I see from their website - included in this week's issue, dated in fact 15th June. I reproduce it here with permission of the Publisher: note the weblink I have included.

The photograph of Caroline's and my shadows I took walking early one morning on the Via de la Plata in Spain in April 2010: originally, The Tablet asked me for an illustration, so I sent this, which they seemed to like ("A good generic pilgrimage shot, and applicable to a pilgrimage almost anywhere"). But I see that instead they have now included with the printed article a cartoon which seems to me to miss the point I was making.

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"What is the essence of ‘pilgrimage’? Martin Davis explores the question using the hypothetical meeting of a fictional Justice and Peace group of a notional Catholic parish, St Bilbo’s … but the issues raised are very real indeed.

Pope Benedict’s Caritas in Veritate had been the subject of discussion in the St Bilbo’s parish Justice and Peace group the previous year. “We must recognise our grave duty,” members noted (in paragraph 50), “to hand the earth on to future generations in such a condition that they too can worthily inhabit it, and continue to cultivate it.” Inspired by Cafod’s LiveSimply campaign, members began to ask themselves how, as witnesses to their faith, they could each live more sustainably. “We are used to fasting during Lent,” one said. “But then resume normal life. So what is the impact of the choices we make daily, upon other people and the future of the planet?”  

This led on to a study of how members used energy, both as individuals and within their families. Roughly 15 tonnes of carbon dioxide equivalent represents our UK average annual “footprint”. For those living near the breadline and in inner cities, it can be less: for others, more. They read a suggestion made by the ecumenical charity, Christian Ecology Link (CEL): a sustainable allowance for Christians seeking to walk the talk, CEL proposed, should be 2.5 tonnes of carbon dioxide equivalent a year (2.5 tonnes is a sixth of the current average: CEL concedes this is a target it will take most of us many years to reach).

The problem is this, the group realised: much of our “allowance” would be absorbed by things it’s possible to reduce, but not dramatically – food and drink, home heating. Then there’s commuting to and from work. But what about other travel? Finding the tonnage attributable to particular journeys was not difficult. London to Glasgow and back by plane: half a tonne of carbon dioxide equivalent; a flight to Hong Kong: 3.5 tonnes. Clearly, flying distorts our carbon footprint considerably. “But surely, doesn’t it all depend on the reasons for our trip?” one member argued. “Last year, my mother went to Chicago to visit her dying brother: wasn’t that better than my friend flying to Vilnius for a stag weekend?” The group decided a discussion along these lines, while interesting, could only end up as negative: “We need some positive response within the parish to the challenge of carbon reduction.”

A quiet voice spoke up: “Didn’t I read somewhere that the Stations of the Cross were invented at a particular point in time, a time when it became impossible to follow Christ’s last steps in Jerusalem, on the ground, because of hostilities? As pilgrimages have never been more popular than they are today, perhaps we could find a new way of doing pilgrimage closer to home.”

But what was “pilgrimage”? First and foremost there had to be a journey. It may be enlightening, to browse through the four million links that a search for “virtual pilgrimage” gives on Google. Ultimately, though, pilgrimage is not for couch potatoes. A journey is needed, then, and one with a point in view. A pilgrim is not a wanderer.

Nor does pilgrimage equate with tourism, often though tourists chart their way to pilgrim destinations. One group member had walked to Santiago de Compostela: “Many on the route”, she said, “admitted they were there just there for an active holiday. They saw stamps in their pilgrim passports as mere souvenirs, unconcerned as they were about the historic link between pilgrimage and that unfashionable word penitence.” What defines a pilgrim is the spirit of penitence in its widest sense: it’s as necessary as a hat and a staff. Parallel to an examination of conscience, a pilgrim prepares for departure. Inessential things are left behind. Attaining the necessary fitness is a penance. Leaving home on an uncertain journey implies vulnerability and trust. Pilgrims rely on the kindness of strangers – other pilgrims and those living along the way. They put aside their usual comforts, but for what? So that they can renew their faith, and become better examples to others.

Keeping these core values in mind, the group prepared St Bilbo’s for its first alternative pilgrimage day. It was carefully planned not to be just another parish outing. Rogation Sunday was chosen, as there’s a long tradition (now largely unobserved) for Rogation-tide processions. After Mass, a quorum of parishioners of all ages set out in the rain. With them were a number of residents of the local Cheshire Home using wheelchairs, and a handful from the neighbouring St Frodo’s Anglican parish. The route lay along part of the parish boundary and then into the adjoining parish. A halt was made outside one group member’s home, where the parish sister led penitential prayers.  

“Every place on God’s earth can be a holy one,” she said. “We don’t have to travel afar to find him. We don’t need a celebrity destination. Each day, he’s there, where we are, in our midst. Didn’t Moses find himself on holy ground without even knowing it (Exodus 3:5)? So let us now walk on in silence, reflecting together on what it means to walk humbly in God’s world, to walk lightly on his earth.”  

In time for a late lunch, the party, a little wet, reached the hall of the adjoining parish’s primary school, where everybody pooled what they had brought, and some nursed others’ blisters. “How does it happen”, asked the parish priest, “that when we bring food to share, there is always some left over?” He then spoke about the Sacrament of the Sick, and administered it to those who wanted it. Many came forward. A member of the organising group reminded everyone how, in former days, your pilgrimage didn’t end at the destination: you had to walk home again. “However,” he said, “for those who would like a lift, I’ve arranged a minibus.”

At the St Bilbo’s AGM, there was the chance for feedback. One parishioner said: “We are a large parish. I always sit in the same pew, and used to exchange the sign of peace with someone I didn’t know. Through the pilgrimage walk, I’ve made a new friendship. How can we love our neighbour, if we don’t know them?” Another benefited from meeting the Cheshire Home residents, and had now become a regular visitor there. For a number, the pilgrimage route had taken them to parts of their neighbourhood they had never before visited: resolutions were made to explore their local area more, and to consider its needs. Nobody opposed the suggestion: “Let’s do it again next year – and invite others!”

■ Martin Davis is a parishioner of St Gregory’s, Cheltenham, and convenes Cheltenham Christian Ecology Link.“

The Green Pilgrimage Network

Whilst tent-dwellers were Occupy-ing the space to the West of St Paul's Cathedral, the Archbishop of Canterbury was praying alongside Pope Benedict and other faith leaders in Assisi last week. And from tomorrow Assisi hosts another inter-faith gathering of importance, to launch the first global network aimed at "greening" pilgrimages. Mary Colwell writes about it in the current issue of The Tablet.

Some will ask, why the need for "greening"? Surely pilgrim walkers inherently proclaim a green gospel, rejoicing in nature as they go - this magnificent beech might easily have escaped my attention had I been car-borne along the little road from Upper Coberley to Hilcot on Friday. But then of course not all pilgrims are walkers or cyclists: many indeed jet to faraway destinations to give themselves the warm glow so many get from worshiping at a sacred place. Indeed, I have campaigned in the past for more virtual pilgrimages.

Mary's final sentence sets out a - for me, unfamiliar - quote from St Francis: "There is no use walking to somewhere to preach if your walking is not your preaching." And there was I thinking the expression "Walking the talk" was a recent invention!

Anyone for an iPilgrimage? - continued

My post of 10 days ago on this theme, which I repeated on the Christian Ecology Link forum, has created quite a few responses there, some of which seem worth republishing here, to urge on the debate.

Mike Monaghan: "An excellent idea. I find it sad (scandalous!) that in religious publications one can read on one page an article about the need for Christians to take the issue of climate change seriously, accompanied by several adverts for pilgrimages all involving long journeys usually by air."

Tony Emerson: "Totally agreed - we should not even think of pilgrimage as involving air flights, given that one air flight to Knock or Lourdes would use up your total sustainable carbon ration for a year. Let alone to the Holy Land or further afield. Another alternative: in my childhood in the West of Ireland we used to have 'the stations' every Lent in one house in each street, with different households taking turns each year. In the process, I think we built a better sense of community. I don't know how long the practice lasted - but could it not be revived?"

Pam Cram responds "as someone who went on pilgrimage to the Holy Land last November! This is was the first time I have flown anywhere in maybe 10 years. While I agree there can be a problem of hypocrisy, there are also complex issues here. Peace and justice in Palestine are possibly as central an issue to all our futures as is climate change. The Palestinian community is begging us to go to see for ourselves and stand alongside them - which was why I went, though it was also a pilgrimage to the holy sites. I would very much like to go again in the future to be involved in some practical peace-making project, and, yes, go on pilgrimage again. Although it is possible to get there without flying, the reality is that because of timing I would probably have to fly at least one way. Similarly, last year my husband went out to Kenya on a mountain trekking holiday in which he also met the local people and has made personal friendships he wants to follow up. He too is looking for ways to return to make a difference in people's lives there. Of course, he will have to fly. These are all complex juggling acts with which I struggle!"

Tony Emerson replies: "Let's start with the data: from the Choose Climate website. I've got the following CO2 equivalent estimates: England to Holy Land return - 2.6 tonnes; and England to East Africa return - 4.7 tonnes. Now, given that the safe, sustainable per person ration is about 1.5 tonnes a year, that creates a problem. I do not deny that good may come from your and your husband's trip. But is the good worth the increment in climate damage that may be attributable to your trip? Given that people in places like the Middle East and East Africa are much more vulnerable than we are to the effects of climate damage, in the shorter term; and that in the longer term of course we all may pay the ultimate price. There are also shorter term cultural consequences of richer European people visiting poorer communities. Now I'm not saying that particular trips are not justified. But I do think we need particular ethical criteria for assessing this particular activity, air travel, which is largely a modern luxury engaged in by more well-off people (very much contrary to what our government claims) and which has a very high carbon footprint. Any views on what these criteria should be?"

From Fr. Peter Doodes: "Last year I flew for the first time in 20 years (and perhaps for the last time) to Belfast, for religious purposes. I had only two days,
start to finish, in order to carry these out and so flew short-haul from nearby Gatwick to Belfast City Airport, a few minutes away from my destination. Aircraft are like any other form of transport, some are economical, and some are the SUVs/stretch Hummers of the air, and so I chose Flybe, whose Bombardier and Embraer aircraft are among the most economical and quiet aircraft available today. I did look at the website mentioned above and wondered what aircraft they based their figures on. I agree that flying is wrong as a mass movement industry and that carbon offsetting is Enron Accounting, but if there is no other option, and at times of emergency there may not be, then choose carriers the same way as you would choose a car. PS If you want to see the Flybe figures then click here."

Back from St Jean-Pied-de-Port

Having marked my 60th birthday year by walking the Milford Track on New Zealand's South Island, I thought it was appropriate to mark my 65th by tackling another decent walk. So I can report with satisfaction that I returned last night after completing on foot the final (almost) stage of the Voie du Puy, one of the ancient routes through France which leads to Compostela. Starting at Manciet in the Gers on 22nd April, I arrived in St Jean-Pied-de-Port on Wednesday, a bit weary and wet, but very happy after eight days on the GR65.

Perhaps the tiredness was evident: carrying my rucksack and staff, I was offered a seat in the tube from St Pancras to Paddington yesterday evening by a woman to whom I would normally have offered mine. (I said I was fighting fit, having just returned from a 200km walk: she replied, "So I should think you could do with a sit down." Nevertheless as a matter of pride I declined her kind offer.)

MD65, GR65 and A65: during my walk, I trespassed for a couple of kms along the as yet unopened A65 South of Aire-sur-l'Adour, the construction of which has usurped pilgrims from their direct route: a long detour is now indicated, which I wanted to avoid. But my comuppance arrived with misdirections from a trio of the roadmakers on their return from lunch, towards a path ending in a tangle of fallen trees worthy of a scene from The Road: the devastation caused by the February tempest in the French South-West was evident everywhere, though the GR65 was itself pretty clear of fallen timber - indeed the wayside is now furnished with plenty of wooden seating.

My French and German and a lot of smiling were just enough to get me by with the mainly French, but also German, Belgian, Dutch, Finnish, Italian etc. other wayfarers I came across: not until Wednesday afternoon did I hear a couple of others speaking English as I caught up with them on the final stretch - and they turned out to be Norwegian and Portuguese respectively.

In previous years, Caroline and I had walked stretches of this Chemin du Puy together. It is different altogether doing so on your own, however many others you come alongside. I am still trying to distill the experience, with the aid of the photographs I took and many good memories.

Whilst away, I read - and can recommend - Kevin A. Codd's To The Field of Stars: A Pilgrim's Journey to Santiago de Compostela, published by Wm. B. Eerdmans last year.