I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth takes its name. I pray that, according to the riches of his glory, he may grant that you may be strengthened in your inner being with power through his Spirit, and that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith, as you are being rooted and grounded in love. I pray that you may have the power to comprehend, with all the saints, what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.
Ephesians 3:14-19
The parish of St. Mary the Virgin in Painswick, near Gloucester, has one of the most striking churchyards I have ever seen. I visited it briefly on Tuesday evening, just before sunset, as I took a day’s break before heading to Wales for the Oratory of the Good Shepherd’s General Chapter and retreat. It was actually my second visit to this church; the first was almost exactly 40 years ago. I was 12 years old, tagging along with my dad on an extended business trip to chemical companies in England and Scotland that supplied the raw materials for making nylon. At the time, I knew the church was beautiful. Now, I can see the theological depth that beauty contains, and there are three things in particular about the church in Painswick that I’d like to share with you.
First, the churchyard is full of yew trees, traditional symbols of eternal life. In some places, they have grown close enough to form arches over the cemetery paths. In order to reach the church, you walk through the ‘great cloud of witnesses’ of the parish, surrounded by trees that proclaim our resurrection hope. It is a faith that is rooted in the soil and reaches to the heavens.
At the entrance to the churchyard is a beautiful lychgate, added at the beginning of the 20th century. Dating back to medieval times, the lychgate was the place where funeral processions waited for the priest to meet them to receive the body. Over the entrance to the cemetery are the words of the Magnificat, Mary’s song of God’s world-changing victory in Christ. At this boundary between sacred and secular space, the building itself rejoices in what God has done for us in Jesus.
Finally, the parish of St. Mary’s has a traditional yearly festival called the “clypping.” “Clypping” is an old English word that means embracing, and that is what they do each September. The members of the parish stand in a circle around the church building, hold hands, and sing a hymn - quite literally embracing the church.
This, I think, is the kind of love that St. Paul is talking about in Sunday’s lesson from Ephesians. It extends out of the present moment into the past and the future. It is all-embracing, and it is the occasion of tremendous joy. This is the perfect love that casts out fear.
May you, too, “know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.”
Yours in Christ,
Kara
P.S. I will be back towards the end of next week, so if you need me I will be available in person then. While I will not open my email during the days of silence between Friday night and Wednesday morning, I will be checking before and after those times.