In one of the older Bible translations Paul encourages the Ephesian Christians to ‘walk circumspectly’, which might at a push also mean ‘live wittily’.(Eph 5.16-17) Both renderings are demonstrated in this photo of me on an ancient set of monastery stepping stones, while on holiday down at Haworth (Bronte country). I’ve decided that I look sufficiently careful where I put my feet (well some of the stones were shooglie -Scots word for ‘tottery, insecure’), that I’ll leave the photo on the profile for a while, to illustrate walking circumspectly, living wittily.
Ancient ruined monasteries are significant places for me – the care with which the sites were chosen, the craft and skill and hard labour of building such sacred space, their pivotal place in the local economy of previous centuries, but also the sense that these were places of prayer set to the rhythms of the day, and places of purposeful work and study, of industry and liturgy.
My favourite such place is Rievaulx in Yorkshire. Been there a number of times –
1. in the aftermath of two days rain when the mist clung to the trees but the rain had stopped, and there was a stillness and a sense of countryside drenched but refreshed by the water that makes life and growth posiible
2. on a sunny day when the tourist buses were like dodgems in the coach park, noisy children were making the kinds of noise that probably monastery walls were built to keep out, but there was a sense that the place itself was undismayed by the presence of folk, because that’s why it was put there in the first place
3. and my first visit, when I’d done my homework, knew the plan of the building, and went to do the educational thing, identifying the nave, the transepts, scriptorium, refectory, herb garden, dormitory – and simply admired the sense of permanence that such durable buildings must have given to the community over the generations.
Where there’s a monastery there is a river, where there are no bridges there are stepping stones – OK to walk across them on a summer day when the river is low, the stones are dry and I’m wearing New Balance trainers. Wouldn’t like to do it in February, across a risen river, stones wet, mossy and slimy, and the water freezing, and wearing leather open sandals or massive working clogs.
Three thoughts –
- The thought that a community builds stepping stones across rivers is an interesting image of how a church serves its local community – the church helping people get from here to there, negotiating the difficulties with them
- the thought that whether you’re a monk or not, none of us walk on water, some stones are shooglie and any one of us could slip and fall in, a reminder of our dependence on each other for care and occasional rescue
- and the final thought – stepping stones get you there stage by stage -for the monks who put them there, stepping stones were a metaphor for walking towards God, using the means he had given, the stepping stones – scripture, community, prayer, bread and wine, praise, care for the poor and sick.
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