Cutting the mustard!

Hello Sabbatical page viewers and follower!

After a holiday I am back for the last two weeks of Sabbatical, after which, who knows...

Holioday destinatins ranged far and wide, from the Hadron Collider in Geneva, midday prayers at Taize, sites of pilgrimage old and new.

Two things come to mind, one a visit to the last family run mustard factory in Southern Burgundy and a visit closer to home to George Herbert's parish church, St Andrew's Bemerton, Salisbury.

Fallot Mustard delivery van from the 1930's.

 First the mustard. Mustard is well, mustard, possibly French or English, German (dark that one for some reason) or American (useful for "hot dogs") you might think. Well no. The Fallot family works in Beaune produce over twenty different types (we tried them all in the most unusual and enjoyable tasting I have ever undertaken). What is surprising is how upon a common foundation of mustard seed, a little salt and vinegar so many varied flavours can be produced, to accompany fish, meats, cheese and even ice cream! The latter being a rather grown up "Nutella" flavour.. delicious.

This culinary preamble, as well as being in the spirit of Slow-cook theology is a good reminder of the infinite varieties that can develop from a common base. Faith communities in the same way are all unique; even those of the new "franchise" connexions, although similar will differ due to the mix of people involved, their history and local factors. This variety is a precious gift on one hand and a complication on the other. Unlike branches of a store chain where we expect the same thing to be on the shelves when we walk in, faith communities respond, or not, in unique ways to initiatives and strategies that come from "above" in their "mother church" structure. In all such strategies and initiatives it might lead to a deeper and stronger commitment at grass roots levels if the local flavour is appreciated and can be matched to the common base that is being rolled out.

The scale and size of the community will be a factor in this. George Herbert the 17th C poet/priest lived and ministered during his last years (he died relatively young) At Bemerton, near Salisbury. (Bemerton is now a suburb of Salisbury. The church however is in a quiet backwater these days, despite the church/rectory straddling the old Roman road from Salisbury Westwards to Wilton and beyond.)

What is surprising, given Herbert's influence on the Anglican spirit over the succeeding centuries is the small size of the church. Seating only thirty, it was the spiritual home for the Herbert household, who went across to the church twice a day for Morning and Evening Prayer. This pattern, along with Herbert's leaning towards the spiritual feeding he received from Nicholas Ferrar's community at Little Gidding strongly suggests a pattern of Anglican spiritual life based on small communities or cells of members meeting together for regular prayer, scripture reading, reflection and fellowship. In this sense we can see a small but intimate community at work and prayer.

This pattern might have much to commend it in our current century, where knowledge and experience of faith practice is increasingly sub-cultural. While inherited models of relationship between a faith communities and the wider geographical community are dissolving restructuring, in my case, church practice to support such community life has both historic pedigree and might well serve as a missiological base from which engagement with contemporary culture can be undertaken and developed in new directions.

George Herbert's parish church (left) and Rectory (right)

There is more to say, on the selection and training of faith community leaders, social and spiritual capital and stating the obvious conundrum!  (That's whetted your appetite!).