Community of the Sisters of the Church

St. Michael'sAfter I posted my last blogpost yesterday I realised that I have never written about St. Michael’s and the Sisters of the Church.

I have been coming here for a number of years now. My first spiritual director asked me once, where do you go on retreat? When I replied that I didn’t go anywhere he told me very clearly that this wasn’t good, and that I should make an annual retreat at one of the places about which he would be sending me information. One was a house belonging to his own order, the Society of the Sacred Mission (SSM) in Durham, the other was St. Michael’s at Ham Common in Richmond, belonging to the Community of the Sisters of the Church (CSC). At the time my brother was living in London, so St. Michael’s was easy to get to and so I contacted them and asked if I could come.

As you can see from the photo at the top of this post, St. Michael’s is a large, sprawling house. It has a large garden, some of it orchard and the edges are woodland. The Community has been here about sixty years, but will soon move to another, more manageable location north of London. This will be my last visit here. I’m feeling nostalgic before I even leave. While the house and grounds are lovely, what really makes this such a wonderful place to make a retreat is the sisters themselves.

The order was founded in 1870 by Mother Emily Ayckbowm. In their early decades their work was in education and children’s homes. In the 21st century, the schools and children’s homes are no longer run by CSC, though I know at least one of the schools continues today. Many of the sisters at St. Michael’s are elderly and in the last year several sisters have died. Some sisters work outside the convent. There are other houses in the UK, but this is the largest. There are also sisters in Canada, Australia and the Solomon Islands, which is where the order is growing.

In everyday life the sisters don’t wear their habits, though for special and solemn occasions they do have them. They are distinguishable here by the crosses they wear round their necks. Their Daily Offices are simple. A lot is sung. The pace is always unhurried, calming, prayerful. There is no fuss, everything is done in a very matter-of-fact manner. As with all religious I have met, they are direct when they speak and astute. Nothing gets past them. They also have a keen sense of humour and a great love for one another and everyone here. As well as the sisters, there are a number of alongsiders living here and sharing their life, all with different circumstances.

This is a quiet place, a place where I have always felt everything fall away, so that I can pray, sit in silence, worship with them, walk around the grounds or read. This afternoon as we prayed the Evening Office I could see foxes in the garden, and after Compline I sat outside and prayed the rosary. A local Buddhist group meets here on Wednesday evenings and came out for the walking meditation part of their meeting while I was still in the garden.

Tomorrow I say goodbye to St. Michael’s. It’s always hard to leave, but tomorrow will have a finality and will be harder. The new St. Michael’s will be open in 2017, so I will see the sisters again then. Until then, they have a big move, big changes. St. Michael’s is closed during August, but will be open from September to December, when it will finally close its doors to visitors. If you have time before then to visit this wonderful place, I encourage you to do so.

My favourite memories of the sisters at Ham Common will be these:

On my very first visit here, most of the meals were taken in silence, but supper once or twice a week was a talking meal. At the end of my second day, I was in the dining room when one of the elderly sisters approached me and said, Are you on retreat? Because we’re TALKING.

One evening at supper, which was a talking meal, with some consternation they realised that Compline would clash with Midsomer Murders. They realised they couldn’t all hunker down in front of the television to watch John Nettles solve a crime and protect the good people of the picturesque Cotswold villages; someone had to be at Compline. Over supper they bargained attendance at Compline that evening and the following week; by the end of the meal everything was sorted to their satisfaction, while I was left a little goggle-eyed at the sisters and their viewing preferences.

Finally, four years ago, I was here a couple of months after my father had died. It had been a strange spring, first with the earthquake, tsunami and aftermath in Tokyo, and then my father’s death. I felt I wanted to talk to someone and so made an appointment with the Sister In Charge. I told her about my father, and about his funeral. I told her I had given the homily. When other people had heard this they had been perplexed, maybe, a little alarmed. The sister simply looked me in the eye and asked, Were you honest? Which of course was the most important point, but no one else had asked me that.

The Community of the Sisters of the Church. As another sister, a member of a different order, said to me last summer, They’re always good value. I am so blessed to know them.



July 21st, St. Michael’s

Our Lady

I have been soooooooo looking forward to this.

It was quite a journey to get here; from Chesterfield to London St. Pancras, across London to Vauxhall on the Tube, transfer to the overground, from Vauxhall to Clapham Junction, then from there to Richmond. I could have taken a bus from there, but wanting to be sure to arrive in time for the Eucharist I took a taxi instead.

I have been feeling tired for weeks. I want to say I am exhausted, but it’s really not that bad. The journey this morning showed me just how much I need to spend some time here. The train seemed too full of people being too noisy, wearing perfume and aftershave that was too strong, people talking on their mobile phones, taking selfies . . . I retreated to my kindle and watched the countryside and cities speed past.

So I got to Richmond and made a half-hearted attempt to look at the bus timetable but then gave up and went to find a taxi. Halfway to the convent I suddenly started to unwind. I closed my eyes and leaned back. The taxi driver sounded concerned, “Are you all right?” Yes, thank you, I’m fine. I’m going on retreat, you see, I added in my head, and I really need to just . . . stop. Stop the noise, stop the crowds, stop having to be somewhere. Just stop, and be. Breathe. Unwind. Pray.

I arrived with plenty of time before the Eucharist, so I was shown to my room and had some time to let the silence start to soak into my consciousness, to sit quietly and put everything down, put all the thoughts away.

12:15, the Eucharist.

The Chapel has changed a little since my last visit twelve months ago. The altar is in a different place, the chairs arranged in a different shape. From where I sit I can see into the garden, the altar is to my right, the lectern to my left, the chairs arranged in the shape of a boat, two rows on either side facing each other.

There is something very soothing about the the Eucharist and the Daily Offices being said and sung in only women’s voices. The pace is calming, our voices all merge together in an unhurried and soothing flow. It feels timeless. There is no rush to anything, we all join in this process. It is easy to feel my heart open, lifted up.

After the Eucharist it’s time for dinner, the midday meal being the main one of the day here. After that I spent some time in the garden, waiting for my spiritual director, who lives here alongside the community but has made her vows through the Single Consecrated Life. We usually Skype about once every six weeks, so it was wonderful to sit down together in person, in the same place, in the same time zone! We talked about all the things that have been on my mind and that I want to work on. It was a beginning, not with conclusions but with openings, things to try, to do.

With lots of things percolating in my mind I wandered around the garden for an hour, sitting in different places, taking photos, enjoying being in the quiet, green space. It is such a wonderful place to be. It’s not just a garden, it’s an orchard and woodland. There are squirrels, foxes, ravens, magpies and even parakeets. Apparently the urban legend is that when Jimi Hendrix was in London he released his two pet parakeets and from that pair has come all the parakeets that can be found in different parts of London. I think the ancestors of these beautiful but screechy birds must have been someone’s pets, but Jimi Hendrix?

5pm is Evening Office, so back into the Chapel for that, then supper, a lighter meal than dinner. While we ate our supper a fox helped itself to the dog biscuits the Sisters put out for the foxy family every afternoon. There are two parents and three cubs, but I only saw one animal this evening. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a fox before, but I’m told they come every day so I shall look out for them again tomorrow.

Right after supper is Compline, in the dining room, so the elderly sisters don’t have to trail all the way back to the Chapel. Compline over, I headed outside again, and sat on one of my favourite benches and prayed the rosary. Tuesday, the Sorrowful Mysteries.

By half past eight I was inside and starting to think about blogging. Maybe it seems odd to blog while I’m on retreat, but one of the things I talked about with my spiritual director was doing more of the things that bring me joy, and feed my soul. Writing is one of those things, also; playing the flute, studying French, baking and maybe taking singing lessons.

Now it’s dark (it’s after ten) and the only sound from outside is the water bubbling through a small water feature under my window. I feel extraordinarily peaceful, looking forward to tomorrow and a full day of services in the chapel and quiet time, time for prayer and sitting in silence waiting to see what God will give me in the quiet space of this beautiful place.

At. Michael's at dusk

July 19th, St. Mary’s Ambleside

St. Mary's Ambleside

I arrived back in the UK last Wednesday and have just spent a few days in the Lake District. Today was the first of my six Sundays away from Tokyo, and my first visit this summer to a church wherever I happen to find myself. The morning didn’t start well. I had checked service times at local churches and had found that St. Mary’s has an 8am Eucharist. Perfect. I liked the idea of attending an 8am service, as usual. However, when we arrived shortly before 8 there was a notice on the noticeboard saying there was NO 8am service this week and next. A pity that notice didn’t make it as far as the church website.

Not to be beaten I returned at 11 and this time was successful in attending a service. I received a warm welcome and had short chats with 2 men who were at the back of the church; one was in charge of the sound system, the other I think was just on hand to be sociable. Through them I found out that the church was Victorian, about 200 years old. When I commented that it was not as dark as I would expect for a church of that era Mr. Sound System explained that the church had been refurbished (did he say repurposed?) about 6 years ago, and the old dark flooring and dark pews had been replaced, and the walls painted. It really was a light-filled space. I heard also that the screen that the music is usally projected onto was not working, so we had sheets with he words instead. Thank goodness. I’m not a fan of screens and projectors in church.

Mr. Sociable directed me to the side of the church where there were a lot of leaflets and pamphlets available in a variety of languages. I picked up several in Japanese. He also told me that the church has a lot of visitors on any given Sunday. Last week the ratio had been one third regulars and two thirds visitors, but usually it’s reversed. I had a wander round the church, took a few photos, then sat down and watched preparations for the service. I had a look through the service book, and discovered it was one of the simple and modern Eucharistic Prayers from Common Worship. Nothing tricky to navigate there, then.

St. Mary’s is in the middle of an iterregnum, so they have no rector and the priest was the assistant priest (as listed in the notice sheet). There was a bit of faffing at the begining of the service, a few announcements, housekeeping stuff, and then we started the service.

A couple of observations:

– The hymns were a bit of a mixed bag, some traditional, like Dear Lord and Father of Mankind, and others that were clearly more modern. All the regulars seemed to know the modern ones, though.

– There was no Epistle reading. We went straight from Exodus to the Gospel. We stood for the Gospel but as far as I could tell it was read by a layperson.

The sermon

I liked the sermon, it was on today’s theme of Meeting God. The priest didn’t use the pulpit or notes. He spoke about Moses and the burning bush (from the Old Testament reading), then St. Peter denying Christ and Thomas doubting that the other disciples had seen the risen Christ. In each case he described it as God ‘sorting someone out’, then commissioning them. From there he moved on to what the church (meaning this church) could do to be more welcoming and inclusive. He had 3 suggestions:

1 To spend more time in silence and maybe even incorporate it more into worship. Here, he felt, was where people really could meet God.

2 To welome visitors and really listen to them.

3 To be part of the wider community, to not stay inside the church and lob ‘holy grenades’ over the wall regarding issues the church and its people felt strongly about, but instead to really engage and actively promote the church and its image in the town.

From there we moved to the intercessions, which were quite long and a bit of a bush telegraph. In the middle we were all required to ferret out our weekly notice sheet to recite the ‘interregnum prayer’. There was, I felt, quite a focus on local people and giving extra information. It made the intercessions longer and didn’t feel prayerful at all times.

Then we had another hymn, Dear Lord and Father of Mankind, while the bread and wine were prepared for the Eucharist. There was no collection. A plate had been left out before the service with a notice explainign that there would be no collection taken during the service, but at the end of the hymn the plate was carried up to the altar. I rather liked that, it seemed a better way than the pressure of the passed plate, but at the same time I wondered if the church received less because of it.

The Eucharistic Prayer was relatively short (I would say definitely no longer than the intercessions) and then we all received communion. While everyone went up the the altar rail there was a vaguely Celtic recorded version of When I Survey The Wonderous Cross which I could have one without. A bit of that silence the priest had mentioned would have been better. The wine was not wine but red grape juice.

After everyone had received comunion we said the post communion prayer and then were blessed. It was a pleasant service, and nothing was rushed. Everyone seemed friendly, they seemed more practiced in the art of welcoming visitors than some churches I’ve visited, but given their loction I suppose that makes sense. I liked the sermon, and the general atmosphere, and the church is lovely. I was less keen on the mixture of hymns and the long-winded intercessions, and I would have liked to have heard the Epistle read too.

The notice sheet was well done. It contained all the information I imagine regular parishioners need about the interregnum update and upcoming services and group meetings. What I really liked about it was its emphasis on prayer. There were detailed prayers for each day of the week ahead, and most importantly, this:

Keeping the Sabbath

Remember the day of rest is for worship and socialising.                                                                       Please try to do your Church, Parish Centre and school business on the other six days of the week.

I thought that simple reminder was something every church could well include in its weekly bulletin.

St. Mary's stained glass