Not amused

Caroline bought a bike for Agnes' birthday on eBay, so collecting it was my excuse for an outing to near Nuneaton on Friday. My reward for riding a 19" frame lady's bike from its former owner's to Nuneaton Station was a stop-off in Birmingham on the way there: I wanted to pop into the Art Gallery to see Burne-Jones' Perseus Series, on loan from the Staatsgalerie Stuttgart, the first time it had been on view in the UK. (The show was closing today.)

The pictures tell the story - as gruesome as any Tarantino film - of Perseus visiting the Graiae, Medusa's sisters, who shared one eye between the three of them, and making off with it; cutting off Medusa's head, and using it to win the affection of Andromeda (before turning various people to stone). It amazes me how the Victorian establishment obviously lapped all this up: Burne-Jones' commission came from Arthur Balfour, the future Prime Minister.

I fell asleep in the train going back, waking up with a jolt as it pulled in to Cheltenham. I had put my book on a low shelf beside my seat. Only as I was pushing the bike down the platform, the train moving off to Cardiff, did I remember.

Susurrus

En route home from East Anglia, we paused in Oxford in order to go to the Botanic Gardens. I'm ashamed to admit it was my first ever visit. Nor even this time was I there principally to see the Gardens themselves, but because they were the venue for "Susurrus".

This is one of the Oxford Playhouse's "Plays Out", put on to encourage audiences to think differently about theatrical work and where it's performed. At the entrance, you pick up headphones, a miniature iPod-type device and a map. At each of eight different points, you are invited to sit down and listen to a passage on the tape, with appropriate music as you walk round in between.

Susurrus - meaning a soft murmuring or rustling sound - is perhaps not the most appropriate title for a play being performed quite so close to the Oxford traffic. Though the content itself is dark, the musical reference points (Britten's Dream, Janet Baker, and Maria Callas's last UK concerts) and the beautiful setting of the Gardens made it, for me, both a nostalgic and an enlivening experience.

For Caroline, it was rather less so, but both were glad we had made the effort to set aside an hour to go. Susurrus is on till 27th, I see from the theatre's website: if you are anywhere near between now and then, I recommend it.

I certainly hadn't appreciated how extensive and impressive the Botanic Gardens were, nor how close to the Cherwell: next week, with the new term starting, people will doubtless be in these punts if the weather holds.

Sense of achievement in Suffolk

As we were driving all the way to North Norfolk for our Friends' wedding last weekend, we thought we would extend our trip by a couple of days, taking up the offer of another good friend to stay in her cottage near Framlingham. So it was that we found ourselves walking to Framlingham on Monday, inspecting the handsome castle, fine church - and also this ductile iron cover in the middle of the road with its philosophical message.

It reminded me of Beethoven's "Muss es sein? Es muss sein!" written at the start of the last movement of the score of his Op 135. Here's an interesting take on that, which you won't find in any Gramophone catalogue.

Icky and the immobile homes

Though caravans by the seaside invariably dismay me, these colourful beach huts at Wells-Next-The-Sea lifted my spirits when, coming out of the dark woods behind, I first saw them on Sunday morning. The previous day's wedding celebrations had continued with all meeting up for breakfast together, leading to a windy walk on Wells beach. Even, for three hearties, a swim: I kept well wrapped up.

In the woods were swarms of twitchers, looking apparently for Icky, the Icterine Warbler. They can't have been best pleased to have a noisy post-wedding party walking through their midst.

A Quaker wedding

On Saturday last, we were present for the first time at a marriage in a Friends' Meeting House. The celebrating couple and their guests sat round in an open square. There was piano music from a CD player before the appointed hour; then silence. Virtually the only formal words spoken were those of each of the parties: "I take this my friend John," in the bride's case, "to be my husband, promising through Divine assistance to be unto him a loving and faithful wife, so long as we both on earth shall live." It was delightful in its simplicity and in the sincerity with which the words were spoken: how often does the presence of a priest or minister prevent one from remembering that marriage is a sacrament administered by the parties to one other.

The guests originated from 15 different countries, all coming together to celebrate in Wells-Next-The-Sea on the remote North Norfolk coast. There was a party in the evening in one of the seaside Whelksheds, part museum witnessing to the town's maritime history, part John's studio.

We had stayed a distance inland the night previously, in a gracious estate house with 16th Century origins: above shows the kitchen. On the night of the wedding, our B&B (recommended) was of similar age, in the incredibly picturesque village of Little Walsingham. The atmosphere could not be further removed from that of Lourdes.

Stanford-on-Avon

If ever your car should need attention when travelling near to where Warwickshire, Northamptonshire and Leicestershire meet, then Lilbourne Garage is the place. Seldom have I ever had better service. It wasn't that sinister a noise that I detected in one of the back wheels, but we had a long way to go to our destination last Friday, so I wasn't taking any chances. Up on the ramp within seconds went our car, and though it took two men an hour to sort it out, the charge was just £20. A third brought us cups of tea.

Before coming back to Lilbourne, we had stopped at nearby Stanford-on-Avon to admire many things about St Nicholas' Church, not least the 14th Century stained glass, recently restored.

The Gloucestershire Way - another bite

What a beautiful Indian Summer day it was today! Caroline and I caught buses to Winchcombe, and walked the dozen or so miles from there to Tewkesbury. It's the last leg of the Gloucestershire Way, but we have still to go back and do the first three.

Surprisingly, for quite a modern long distance path, it's not well signposted. So, for instance, we got lost for a while on top of Langley Hill above Winchcombe - and this wasn't the only stretch that needs attention.

Although we were never far from a main road, we passed through some spectacular countryside. After looking back from our first climb over a view that took in both Cleeve Common and Meon Hill, the Malverns and Bredon then became the focus. My photograph shows Tewkesbury Abbey with the Malverns behind, taken on Crane Hill above Oxenton.

(I've mentioned previously my other bits of Gloucestershire Way walking - home to Coberley in January; Coberley to Notgrove; Notgrove to Stow, and Stow to Winchcombe.)

Scandalous past

A highlight of my extremely brief stage career was playing Lady Teazle in Sheridan's School for Scandal on the stage of Ampleforth's theatre. Opposite me, playing Sir Peter was Edmund ffield, a couple of years older than me. That was in the Summer of 1957.

Edmund joined the Monastery at Ampleforth after leaving the school, and became Fr. Richard ffield OSB. For many years a teacher and Housemaster in the school, he has since 2003 been part of the community at the Monastery of Christ the Word, established by Ampleforth in Zimbabwe.

He is at present back for some well-earned holiday, and was saying mass this evening at St Gregory's Church here in Cheltenham: here is a photograph of our reunion.

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."

The grandest design

Caroline's dream is to build a carbon-neutral house in the countryside. It's a dream stimulated by, amongst others, Kevin McCloud the presenter of Grand Designs.

Yesterday, Kevin was one of many celebs. who was announced as having signed up to 10:10, the pledge to try to cut our individual carbon emissions by 10% next year, in order to put pressure on politicians that we want tougher action - a very grand design, indeed - on global warming. Some of them were asked "Do you know what your carbon footprint is?" I liked playwright Kwame Kwei-Armah's candid answer to this question: "Absolutely not. It's a bit like looking at your bank account when you're overdrawn. You just don't want to think about it."

Having sounded off just the other day about air-borne pilgrimages, I also liked the answer Kevin McCloud gave to the question: "Who in the world would you like to sign up to the 10:10 pledge?" "I think," he said, "if it's not going to be Jeremy Clarkson, it's the Pope. He's responsible for the ethical position of tens of millions of people worldwide. And responsible for millions flying to see him in St Peter's Square. He should be encouraging all those nuns to quit the plane and make the pilgrimage on foot."

Robert Young, R.I.P.

Our local greengrocer, Robert Young closed its doors yesterday for the last time. As my photograph - taken a couple of years ago - shows, it featured a garden centre, and indeed the shop grew out of a nursery business that started many decades ago: someone will be able to tell me when.

Robert Young was a landmark, an institution and a way of life. At one extreme, it was always worth a look "under the tree" to see if something was going cheap. At the other, there were Sue Artus' fabulous flower arrangements, as for that Winter wedding I wrote about last year.

Now what, for this key site at the end of our Bath Road? Not another Tesco Express or Metro surely!

"Take an olive seed"

Today's photograph is of the sign outside the Greenbelt Festival pub, one of the very many and varied tents erected on Cheltenham Racecourse for the weekend. I was helping man the stall of Christian Ecology Link at Greenbelt, an interesting experience for me. I wore a CEL T shirt, to increase my visibility (as if needed). Normally I am not to be seen dead in one.

"Take an olive seed" was the theme of the Sunday Morning Worship at the Festival, said to have been attended by 15,000 people. It was brilliantly devised to celebrate the diversity of those attending, and of the traditions that come together within the Holy Land: there were prayers and readings in both Hebrew and Arabic.

And the Kiss of Peace, for these Swine Flu aware times, was transformed into the elbow bump of peace, as demonstrated here by two of my neighbours. They were volunteering on behalf of CAFOD, drawing attention to the need for climate justice. Appropriately, the CAFOD stall was next door to CEL's: both were well-patronised, any any rate during my sojurn.

Of course, masses of those at Greenbelt seemed intent on other things than climate justice or a greener church: that's why CEL is needed. However, the people who bothered to stop by seemed keen to meet up with others in their local area: I collected quite a few email addresses, and have been busy since I returned putting people in touch with one another. It's good to be able to help with the sort of introductions and connections that only a national organisation like CEL can make.

County boundaries

Gloucestershire is unusual in not having that many natural external boundaries: for a few miles, the Thames separates its South-East corner from Wiltshire, and in the West the Wye separates it from Wales, but otherwise the main boundaries are internal. The Severn is a major divide between prosperous East Gloucs. and unfashionable West. In the Cotswolds, house prices are at a premium compared with the Vale. Royal South Gloucestershire is another world from housing estates in Tewkesbury.

Today, in pursuit of more photographs for the Summerfield Trust (as mentioned last week), I drove to Cinderford, to see the vibrant Artspace project there; and from Cinderford to Cirencester. My two photographs here show the contrasting worlds I entered: below, Cinderford town centre, with its charity shops, and absence of any buildings of architectural note; and (above) Cirencester, with its elegant modern estates just adjacent to the town's beautiful market place.

Anyone for an iPilgrimage?

This is the time of year when planeloads of pilgrims jet off to Lourdes, Knock etc. for a few days' devotion: all entirely in accordance with tradition and admirably motivated, but a huge expenditure of carbon.

I would like to promote the concept of a virtual pilgrimage, which involved all would-be pilgrims staying at (or near) home for the period they would otherwise be travelling. After all, the idea of the fourteen Stations of the Cross - which you see in very many of our churches, certainly in Catholic ones - evolved as a substitute for those who could not make it personally to visit the Holy Land.

If you aren't familiar with the Stations of the Cross, those in my own church, St Gregory's, Cheltenham, can be "visited" here. The image above is the "First Station: Jesus is condemned to death."

Dark nights

I am in the process of taking twenty photographs for the Summerfield Charitable Trust - of projects they have supported over the twenty years since they began grant-giving in 1989. Today's trip was to Macaroni Woods, near Fairford, to visit the Noah's Ark Children's Venture. A magical setting has been conjured up there based on an ex-RAF camp: Richard and Liz Wilkinson are the heroes who run it.

According to one of the carers I met today, it was the first experience of darkness at night that really thrilled the children she was with: they had never been out of London to stay in the country before. Getting them to bed this week was a major problem!

Can and contents

Some of what we experienced in London last weekend made me wonder about contemporary culture. Would we really throng to the vast and sumptuous Saatchi Gallery, for instance, to see those enormous American abstract works of art (they seemed utterly baffling and indeed hideous to me), were it not free to enter and a mere stone's throw from Sloane Square station?

Ditto, the Telling Tales show at the V. & A. This again has a sumptuous setting (as the V. & A. is looking splendid these days). The pieces of furniture etc. on display are - we are told - known as Design Art: "they retain their role as functional objects, even if their usability is often subordinated to their symbolic or decorative value," in the words of the handout. So, we see two large blobs of red urethane on the floor with the title "The Lovers' rug," the urethane representing the average quantity of blood in two people. Cosy?

I was pleased to be able to get to the Serpentine Gallery for the first time: what a great space, and how lovely to be able to look out from it over Kensington Gardens! I admired too this Summer's temporary pavilion outside, by Kazuyo Sejima & Ryue Nishizawa of SANAA. But the exhibition? Jeff Koons has been working on a Popeye series over the past seven years: we are therefore treated to an array of huge, lurid cartoons, and brightly-coloured sculpture - something for instance looking like a rubber ring, crushed between a pile of plastic chairs, but which is in fact made of aluminium. Entertaining, and skillful work, but life-enhancing?

Certainly not in the way the BP Portrait exhibition at the National Portrait Gallery was. As usual, it was fun to criticise the judges' choice of prizewinners, but here there was plenty to admire and be grateful for. Interestingly, very few were self-portraits this year.

In the evening, we went again to the Tête à Tête Opera Festival at the Riverside. Here, the surroundings are none too luxurious for contemporary opera; but was this opera? I enjoyed it last year, for its novelty and nerve; but this year it was just tiresome. Four pieces over the two nights, and none worth repeating, was my view. Even a rather charming piece by Glyndebourne Youth Opera, "Who am I?"

A word in edgeways

"Don't put it down, put it away." It was the late Tom Fairclough from whom I first heard this, a character it's impossible to forget. From Lancashire, he came to Cheltenham with Rosina, his wife, and a large number of lovely children. He nursed Rosina throughout her long illness - she died of cancer in the late 1970s - and brought up his family whilst still working full-time; until he himself contracted cancer and died, a decade or so ago.

"You have two eyes, two ears and one mouth - use them in proportion," could have been another of Tom's injunctions. I thought of it on Wednesday evening as we were dining with old friends, all thoroughly familiar with one another, but not giving each other time to develop a point, unless it was shouted.

What about a different sort of dinner party, I wondered? One where individuals had up to five minutes to speak uninterruptedly about any subject they cared to bring up, however controversial. Then that subject could be discussed for as long as the discussion stayed on the subject. If the discussion strayed, then someone else would take over the solo input role.

Well, it's an idea.

Plan bee

Having breakfast in the garden, I noticed our lavender was alive with cabbage whites, but also bees. Which reminded me that the call has gone out to us all to mix two tablespoons of sugar with one of water, and place the fix in the garden so as to act as a bee pick-me-up. It seems both honey bees and bumble bees need one at this time of year.

A Cheltenham church leads by example

This Press Release came my way today: an inspiring story!

After almost two years of intensive planning and fund-raising, Bethesda Methodist Church in Cheltenham is about to install a major array of photovoltaic (PV) solar panels on its south-facing roof. Almost invisible from the street, these 40 solar panels will generate upwards of 6,000 kW hrs of electricity a year and any surplus not required by the church will be exported to the national grid.

Funds for the £39,000 installation, which is being carried out by SolarSense, Bristol, have been raised from the UK Government Low Carbon Building Fund, the Methodist Church District Advance Fund, Cheltenham Borough Council, The Summerfield Trust and the Bethesda congregation.

Bethesda is part of the National Eco-Congregation Scheme - an ecumenical programme helping churches make the link between environmental issues and the Christian faith, encouraging them to respond by practical action in the church, in the lives of individuals, and in the local and global community. The church has received two national eco-awards – one of only a dozen or so churches throughout England to have been so recognised. Since its first award, presented by Jonathon Porritt in 2003, Bethesda has become a FairTrade church, sold more than £14,000 worth of fair-trade goods, distributed more than 1000 low-energy light bulbs, operated an extensive recycling scheme, and launched its own carbon offset programme, funds from which have just helped to install a solar hot water system for an AIDS orphanage in South Africa.

Following its second award (presented in 2007 by local MP Martin Horwood during a Sunday morning service), the independent review team commented: “Concern for issues of environmental stewardship and sustainability seem to permeate all aspects of church life”. In their letter of recommendation, independent reviewers concluded: “From any perspective, the Bethesda environmental programme is first class. It should in our view receive maximum publicity. Other churches and indeed secular organisations should be encourage to visit and learn from their example.”

In a recent widely-distributed publication from the Environment Agency, a panel of experts drew up a list of the most important things needed to “save the planet.” The second of their 50 recommendations read as follows: “It is time the world’s faith groups took a lead in reminding us that we have a duty to restore and maintain the ecological balance of the planet.”

Bethesda has been doing this for the last decade, is actively encouraging other churches to do likewise and is now involved in sharing its concerns with the wider community.

Shop local

Another posting on the Christian Ecology Link bulletin board, worth repeating, I thought - this time from Pete Redwood on the subject of supermarkets passing on unsold meat to be burnt:

Sainsbury's have also recently signed a contract with DPM at Doncaster to supply them with all their waste food to fuel their energy generation plant. This includes all fresh food waste. DPM specialises in producing material for pet food and already takes waste from retail butchers, cafes and restaurants within a 100-mile
radius of Doncaster. The new plant is an extension of that business, covers a number of supermarkets and feeds its electricity into the National Grid.

The question was posed, "Why so much waste?". The supermarket model creates waste by definition. In order to maintain an "attractive" display it is necessary to have more stock than can be realistically sold. As soon as the display starts to look empty sales drop.

The sell-by date system also creates a huge amount of waste. It is not a legal requirement in itself, but once shown on a package the retailer must comply with it. It has become standard practice by default rather than by legislation. Most food is still edible well beyond its sell-by date.

It is also worth remembering that most national supermarket chains do not sell truly fresh food. Due to the distribution process it is at least three days old, and usually more, before it even gets on the shelf! Which is why they insist on so many synthetic preservatives in their products.

Until about ten years ago most fresh products were supplied to each store direct by the producers/manufacturers. Each supermarket company insisted that it was supplied on a sale or return basis, and then deliberately over-ordered by one-third. Except for bread, and possibly milk in some cases, this system has now changed and all products are now supplied to a central distribution depot. Manufacturers and producers still cover the cost of waste by the grossly unfair discount structure operated by the main supermarkets.

Home

Two films exist with this title. (Perhaps more.) The latest - starring Isabelle Huppert - has been described as a "rather beautiful eco parable from Ursula Meier." I hope to see it one day, but this seems unlikely to be at our Cheltenham Cineworld.

Meanwhile, I've been watching the other (current) Home - at home, on the computer. It's a 93-minute documentary film by Yann Arthus-Bertrand, with the most beautiful photography of our world from the air. It also has the most annoying soundtrack, but that is easily eliminated by turning the volume off and the subtitles on. Well worth watching!

Challenging the consumerist ethic

Tony Emerson has posted this on the Christian Ecology Link bulletin board: worth repeating, I thought.

We need to be challenging the consumerist ethic. The marketing processes adopted by modern business are at a level of sophistication undreamt of previously. Advertising is only the tip of this iceberg - market research, motivational research, 'sexy' product design, packaging, product placement, viral marketing, the availability of easy credit, corporate lobbying... these are only a selection of the techniques used either to create or to shape artificial demand, create (artificial) replacement demand or create addictive or dependency-induced repeat demand.

Small environmental movements cannot even think of matching the resources used in such processes. But we can adopt a range of approaches or techniques to undermine their unnecessary consumption-promoting strategy.

First, always challenge the economic dogma that 'consumer demand' is something natural and spontaneous: JK Galbraith exposed that myth 50 years ago, but Governments still base their policy on it, and say 'environmental action should be confined to technology of production.'

Many environmental campaigners also go along with the dogma. So, the need for the journey, the need for living in a particular size house in a particular location, the need for heating your house to 26 degrees C, the need for changing your clothes with the fashion, the need for a particular meat diet… : these are all 'spontaneous' and 'natural'. We are 'arrogant, elitist killjoys, would-be cavemen' if we challenge this dogma. 'We must wait for a new magic generation of green machines to come on the market.'

We have to take that risk of unpopularity - nothing new here for Christians.

Secondly: we need to discuss more how we best challenge the economic dogma of (spontaneous) consumer demand. We can sound as if we are rather elitist, effectively accusing people of being silly or foolish. One principle is that it is easier to challenge someone if you have built up a trusting, mutually-respecting relationship with them. This does make it easier to get an effective environmental programme going in a Christian community, where hopefully we have developed such relationships.

Welcome?

Some while ago, I appointed myself as Welcomer at the mass I usually go to: what this means is that I arrive a bit early to hand out mass books. (Having to get to church on time has always been a strain for me: my grandfather's description of our family's churchgoing was "Once a week and late at that!")

Most people seem pleased to be Welcomed, I find, though some defiantly look away. And I remain a little diffident, as I know that there are even priests who are not in favour of Welcoming.

Anyway, my diffidence is mitigated by an article I have just read, which - kind permission of both author, The Rev. David Deboys, and publisher - I set out here:

Why do we do what we do? Why do we believe what we believe? What is the inter relationship between experience and belief? These are not small questions, but I want to focus them on one particular issue: how we welcome people into church. My answer, simply and starkly, is that welcoming people into church is a gospel imperative. Not to welcome people is a denial of the Gospel. I want to engage with these assertions from family experience and from theology.

Our perceptions are coloured by our experiences. I moved to my present parish in west London on the Feast of Christ the King, 2008. A family member moved to another part of London at around the same time. For six Sundays she worshipped in a well-known parish church. No one spoke to her. No one said hello. No one made the slightest attempt to make her welcome. She was very upset by her experience. She was seeking a place to worship and become part of a community. That wasn’t on offer. Her experience has reinforced my theological commitment to making.

It seems to me that the New Testament bears the scars of the rejection of Jesus. Carol services will often climax in the reading of the first chapter of St John’s gospel. Verse 11 reads: “He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him.” There it is, no welcome. Indeed the lack of welcome leads to the Calvary of rejection and Crucifixion. And the first Christians, in deliberate counterpoint to that, stressed welcome. The note of welcome permeates the New Testament. The two on the road to Emmaus find that the stranger in their midst is none other than the risen Christ – but they would not have discovered this if they had not welcomed him into their home. The Epistle to the Hebrews stresses the need to welcome strangers (13: 2): “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.”

But welcome in a twenty-first-century parish needs some subtlety. I have no truck with buttonholing those who cross the threshold. Our welcome must be genuine, but allow people to melt away quietly at the end of the service if that is their wish.

At my church of St Barnabas in Ealing we have introduced a team of badged welcomers to befriend any newcomer who is loitering after the service, or who actually stays behind to share coffee. However, this takes us back to the question that needs to be asked: what undergirds our welcome of other people?

(First published in The Tablet)

Requiescat

The family feline has died - yesterday aged 13. He is interred under the ceanothus by the beech hedge.

Willum (not to be confused with grandson "William") was not, I am sad to say, blessed with a personality that endeared itself to me. He graduated from captivating kitten - here photographed at his Hampshire birthplace on the day some of us fell for him - to curmudgeonly cat, a dominant presence, but not a particularly loving one, at least until his final transformation to pathetic pussy. Perhaps he found Gloucestershire rather infra dig, as might a cricket enthusiast forced to move to a county captained by Tom Graveney having been used to A.C.D. Ingleby-Mackenzie.

Having said this, Willum is missed.

"A farm for the future"?

Last night, we were at another string quartet recital. Very different from any of our Cheltenham experiences, the Brodsky Quartet's recital took place in the idyllic setting of Guiting Power Village Hall as part of the 39th music festival held there. I remember attending what must have been one of the first, the village's great benefactor Raymond Cochrane making a rather hesitant speech of welcome.

We came expecting to hear a rare programme of Italian music, but preparation time for this had been lost. "I had an accident cutting up the chorizo," violist, Paul Cassidy explained. We could hardly complain at the substitution of Wolf's Italian Serenade and Beethoven Op. 132.

On the narrow road up to Guiting we made way for a huge lorry and trailer loaded with straw bales: my photograph, taken at 9 o'clock during the concert interval, shows - across the cricket ground for which the Village Hall acts as pavilion - a similar vehicle: the harvesting continued even as we drove away from the village an hour later. I wondered what the prognosis was for such hugely carbon-intensive operations, in the light of watching Rebecca Hosking's wonderful BBC2 film, "A farm for the future." You can still catch it in segments on YouTube: start here. Well worth the trouble!