Our Vicarage was beginning to empty out earlier this year. Our lovely Persian lodgers found a flat and moved out just before their baby was born. The Joker got himself an apprenticeship at a law firm in Sheffield after his two wonderful years volunteering at The Oakes, the Queen is working hard at a proper job in Lancaster and the Engineer is mostly at uni now. It was beginning to feel a bit quiet in our Victorian vicarage – the Vicarage Hound only barks when he wants a chew.
So the Vicar and I had a little pray about the next stage of Vicarage life, asking the Lord to guide our steps. And of course, that same week a lady at church told us about her friend who was having trouble finding a new home with her two small daughters. And now we have the Gentle Gs living in the attic whilst they continue to look for somewhere more permanent. And then we had a call from a minister in London who had a church member starting a job very close to us here, and so this Saturday we have a young man coming to stay whilst he settles into a new life in West Brom.
Rev Arthur Benjamin Irvine MA 1838-1907Louisa Caroline Irvine 1840-1912
Meanwhile, I’ve been rereading some emails from the great granddaughter of the fifth vicar of our church, Rev Arthur Benjamin Irvine. Arthur was in post here from 1874 to 1902. He lived in the Vicarage with his wife Louisa and their seven children. I think this may be the last time that nine people lived here at once, although the Vicar and I are always up for a challenge. Who knows who will join us next?
The Vicarage Children, Amy, William, Maziere, Arthur, Louisa, Constance, John. (Guessing the order from left to right from their ages, and if Louisa was about ten in this photo, taken in about 1885).
Thanks to one of Arthur and Louisa’s great granddaughters, who came to visit our church in 2019, I have some more pictures and stories of life here in the Vicarage in the second half of the reign of Queen Victoria. So there are more stories of the Irvine family to come. I’m not sure I’ll have the full lowdown on how all nine of them bumped along together in the Vicarage, but I like to imagine that it wasn’t all as neat and serious as they look in the photos and was perhaps rather more like our messy Vicarage life now. Mind you, it was almost impossible to get our kids to look at a camera at the same time when they were younger.
It’s been so long since I blogged, but I’ve had a project bugging me for ages. It’s a real privilege to live in an old house and to know the names (and profession!) of all its principal inhabitants since it was built. So I want to write about some of the people who lived here in the Vicarage, whose stories I’ve learnt about in the years we’ve lived here (fifteen in the middle of February!). And I want to write a little about the history of our church too. When we arrived in the parish, the then churchwarden was undertaking that enormous task and produced a book from his research, so I have an excellent resource to start from, but the internet gives opportunities to discover more since that project was completed.
So this year I’m going to write about those things, about Rev Arthur Irvine, who lived in the Vicarage with his wife and eight children for most of the second half of Queen Victoria’s reign. One of his daughters made some sketches of the Vicarage family and I have permission from their descendents to share them here. I’m going to share some exerts from our church magazines from the 1920s and 30s, and Rev Benjamin Willmore’s evangelistic talks given here in Lent in 1850, and all sorts of other scraps. I might also write about what’s happening here, now that this Vicarage is emptying of dependent children and taking on a new sort of character.
And to start off, today I have an extract that I found in the electoral roll that was kept from the 1940s to the 1950s. It’s an unusual entry, and gives a reason for removal from the electoral roll that I’m glad that we’re never going to have to log. There’s a modern block at 14 Florence Road now, alongside the Victorian terraced houses that make up the rest of the street.
The Gureton family, Fred, Elizabeth and Lilian, bombed out of their home on 19th November 1940.
The bombing is mentioned on the West Bromwich History Society site:
On the 19th November the Germans launched a nine-hour attack on the Midlands with wave after wave of bombers. In West Bromwich bombs hit, Richard Street South, Lombard Street, Constance Avenue, Florence Road, Paradise Street, the District Hospital in Edward Street, the Corporation Gas Showrooms next to the Central Library, Oak Road and the Corporation Bus Garage and the Palace Cinema in the High Street. Sometime around 7pm German planes first dropped thermite incendiary bombs that would set the town alight to guide in the next wave of bombers carrying high explosive bombs. German targets may well have been the railway sidings, surrounding factories and the large gas-holder at Swan Village.
In that same bombing, Edith Clare was injured in a house just along our road and died the next day, and Ernest Lamb, aged just 18, also from our parish, also died from injuries received that night. What an awful night for those families and for the whole parish. Rev Fred Sutton was the vicar then, and was still in post when some of our current church members joined – the connection to the past is close when you’re part of a community with memories.
I wonder if these Advent posts will all end up being about food? Today was Cake and Chat day – most Thursday mornings since we’ve been here in the parish (more than thirteen years now!). We started in the church hall, then migrated into the church when Open Church began pre Covid – we were open four mornings a week then. Then we were on Zoom in lockdown and then in the Vicarage back yard, into the red room (our front room, with a red painted wall) and now back into church since the revival of Open Church.
We’ve restarted Open Church slightly differently – with a session on Wednesday afternoons so that families returning from our church school can come in, and another in the traditional Cake and Chat slot on Thursday mornings. This means that, with our small groups meeting centrally at church on Wednesday evenings, our church heating is minimised with maximum mid week building use. And we’re finding that both Open Church sessions are growing as word gets out. Yesterday we had about 40 people in the building – long standing church members in to catch up and help welcome, and several families in with their kids to play and connect. I had to delve behind the table we use for communion for the Duplo set we have stashed there, and we set up two extra large tables for crafts and games.
And today the Cake and Chat team were all there and several extras turned up – including a dad and his daughter who’ve recently moved into the area and are waiting for a nursery place and had already joined us on Wednesday afternoon, and a lady from the same hometown in Jamaica as a church member who was also there.
Anyway, everyone in church this morning loved the apricot and pecan biscotti I made in a vaguely festive baking session yesterday. There was also an orange and choc chip ring cake, but the biscotti were the winners. I’ve made these a few times – my recipe card is really tattered, but this time I used Italian 00 flour and I think the extra strength in the dough made them work particularly well. This recipe allows you to improvise the filling from whatever you have in your baking cupboard.
Ingredients
1 egg
100g caster sugar
125g plain flour (00 is best) – or 100g flour and 25 cocoa
1/2 tspn baking powder
1/4 tspn salt (flakes are great)
Filling options: 50g almonds/pecans/walnuts and 75g dark chocolate chips/chopped apricots – or try your own combination of nuts, cranberries, raisins, chocolate, mixed spice, lemon, rosemary – if you find a good combo do put it in the comments!
Put the oven on to 180C. Whisk the egg and sugar until thick and pale. Then fold in the flour, baking powder and salt, followed by the filling. Shape on baking paper or a silicone mat (on a metal tray) into a small loaf 5cm wide x 25cm long.
Bake for 25 minutes and then remove and cool for 5 minutes before slicing on the diagonal into slices that are about 1cm thick. Lay the slices on the tray with cut faces up and cook for a further 10 minutes. Turn the biscotti (‘twice cooked’) over and cook for a further 5 minutes. Mine were still quite pale yesterday, so I left them to cool in the oven when I switched it off and they were perfect – with a crunch that softened just nicely when dunked into coffee but not so crunchy that you worried about your fillings when taking a bite.
Advent Sunday in the parish and I thought I was overdue to share something longer than a tweet. And so some thoughts and thankfulness after a busy Lord’s Day. And maybe the first of a few, if I can remember how to write more than 280 characters again.
Many church friends are talking about how things have changed After Covid. Here in our parish we have lost some people, gained others, but more than that we have restarted things super slowly, getting everything in place including properly recruited leaders and training. That means we are still not running as many activities as we did prior to 2020, but those that are running are different, and – I think – better. Even Sunday mornings have a changed feel – a slightly later start time, a new format for Sunday activities for children and youth, and far more people involved. And it feels far more like a party – there is joy about being together that we didn’t have as regularly in the weary days before (and during) the pandemic.
Before Covid we had a sporadic Sunday school and only a couple of regular kids in the right age range. Now we are running groups for both primary and secondary aged children. And we have a full team recruited to help and lead. I’ve moved to teaching the older ones and this morning we were looking at the small (ha!) topics of ‘What is a Christian?’ and ‘What is Church?’. So lovely to hear how my fellow leader in the session came to faith after looking at the claims of Christ, having known nothing of the gospel until she was in her mid 20s – she grew up in a country where nobody is taught about Christianity. We also talked about how some of the most important ways we can contribute to church life are by praying, by singing up and by turning up.
Before Covid we held monthly Bring and Share lunches, and we had restarted those, but since October half term we have been sharing lunch after church every week, hoping to grow our fellowship and help people who are struggling with heating or other costs. We’ve managed this by church funding simple lunches that are made by one or two people.
Bread pudding and chocolate cake for dessert today – hot rice pudding not shown.
This week we had the great pleasure of two teenagers (the Engineer and his friend Aloud) and our young churchwarden cooking for us. Aloud is a great cook and she masterminded a spiced roasted carrot soup and (my favourite) a chicken broth with matzo balls – alas I forgot to take photos. Our church treasurer provided a rice pudding and then I stumped up some bread pudding and a chocolate cake to ensure that dessert was well and truly covered. Each week 20-30 people sit down to eat and chat together and play noisy games afterwards. That’s about half of our usual congregation – and I’d say that about 3/4 of the church family have been to at least one lunch.
So this Advent we are seeing the light and warmth of the church in action in our meetings and meals together. We pray that more of the light of Christ will be seen in us and through us this Advent and on through 2023.
Of course, the main reason that synod meets is to talk about things, and the way it does that is by debating proposals in the chamber. The chamber can get rather warm. All the clothing advice was to major on layers and I certainly avoided dressing as I normally would for life in a Victorian vicarage: vests and scarves defintely not required.
And debate brings its own kind of heat. You can get a pretty good feel for what synod members are particularly concerned about by reading the questions that are submitted to the House of Bishops and others a few weeks before synod meets. This synod generated 132 questions, which spread over 74 pages with their answers. You’ll see there are many questions on Holy Communion, Safeguarding and the Clergy Discipline Measure, LGBTQ+ issues and issues to do with finance and mission.
There is a special session in synod to debate the questions that have been answered. The format is that the Chair of that session runs through each question number and you have the opportunity to ask another question, by jumping up and shouting ‘SUPPLEMENTARY’ when your question number is asked. You then go to a lectern and ask your question and the bishop (or other synod official) has to answer on the hoof.
I asked two written questions – numbers 27 and 28, both about the Clergy Discipline Measure. You can hear me jumping up to indicate that I had a supplementary question (and asking it, then taking a breather, then laughing as I ask another, because I’d forgotten I had a second one) on the CofE YouTube channel (this link will take you to the start of my section, and the Bishop of Worcester answering). I don’t think that my questions generated much light, but hopefully some issues were highlighted to the team responsible for revising the undeniably appalling existing system of clergy discipline.
My first questionThe Bishop of Worcester answeringTrying to decipher an answer
Occasionally some interesting or useful information does emerge in answer to a question. And sometimes questions are asked that people feel very strongly about. The atmosphere in the chamber during the questions about Holy Communion was quite heated. You can hear my poor diocesan bishop trying to answer people on this subject, which is so important to believers, without accidentally making new canon law (actually making a law involves a bit more than this, but bishops like to speak with one voice, so if you’re answering you need to keep within what’s been agreed).
Other debates bring up interesting viewpoints, but the impression I have is that most change is made in the detail, and in the committees who produce the policies and documents. I suspect this is true of any legislative body, but it was still worthwhile sitting in the debates to hear from the breadth of the church, and to work out who is going to be likely to get their name in the Church Times in the next few years.
As the term of this synod continues there are plenty of things to be discussed that will no doubt be heated, not least the Living in Love and Faith project, but also the sticky issues of finances and deployment. We need to pray for light, not only heat, that we’d follow the advice of James:
My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this: everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, because human anger does not produce the righteousness that God desires.
There are 483 people on General Synod – and although I didn’t meet them all in Church House this week, at some times it felt like it. I met other reps from my diocese, old friends from the church where I was married, a mutual friend of a pal from Singapore, people I know from various Christian organisations I’m involved with and LOTS of people I know from Twitter, Facebook and other places on the internet. I failed to find the brother of another friend from Singapore, who I’m told is also on synod, but I shall seek him out next time. I chatted to people I sat next to, to people in the halls and corridors, to a lady who was having lunch at the same café, and to so many people in the tearoom. I’d almost lost my voice when I got home.
When I wasn’t talking I was absorbing information. We had an induction with an overview of synod work, lots of legal stuff, a trial vote using the electronic machines and a mock debate. Once synod kicked off properly, after the behatted service in Westminster Abbey, we heard speeches from HM The Queen (delivered by the Earl of Wessex) and both archbishops.
my prayer is that the Lord’s blessing may be upon you as you embark on your deliberations; and that you will find inspiration in the joyous words of the hymn you sang this morning:
O Comforter, draw near,
within my heart appear,
and kindle it, thy holy flame bestowing.
Elizabeth R
It seems to me that the ‘hellos’ part of synod is a key part of its work – learning to love one another across differences, but also finding our connections and the ways that we can help one another to follow and serve our God, who sends his Comforter to kindle our hearts.
So do say your ‘hello’ below if you’re a fellow synod member reading this, and even if you aren’t.
I started writing a single blogpost on my first ever experience of being a member of General Synod. But it got too long. So here’s the first of a few reflections on my initiation into: the murky dealings of Anglican politics/the premier decision making body of this country’s most important institution/the mess that occasionally works and is all we’ve got (delete to obtain your preferred description).
What is more exciting in life than the excuse to buy a new hat? Several things, of course, but it’s been ages since I went to a wedding and even longer since I was a cool and trendy young engineer (not really) who liked to wear outrageous hats as I cycled across Cambridge to work.
So I got myself elected to the General Synod of the Church of England. And although I didn’t actually realise it when I sent my nomination forms in, I was therefore invited to start my five year term (or Quinquennium because the CofE loves a fancy Latiny word) by attending a service of Holy Communion at Westminster Abbey.
As I was deluged with information in the days before the meeting began, I learnt that ‘some ladies wear hats to the service’, perhaps because HM The Queen usually attends along with all the bishops and the elected members of clergy and laity from round the country. So a new hat it was, even though it was the Earl of Wessex who joined us in the Abbey, without a hat.
There is a lot of formality at synod, not just in the service at Westminster Abbey with people in fine robes and royalty in attendance. There are formal ways to speak and lots of ways of doing things that I found pretty unfamiliar, even though I’ve watched a few sessions online. It works a bit like parliament (although we were repeatedly told that it’s not the CofE’s parliament) or maybe a local council meeting, with added wigs and theology.
The formality is necessary, I guess, to ensure that everything runs in an orderly way, and in connection with history. But it still felt pretty strange to me as a newcomer, an ignoramus when it comes to standing orders and someone whose life is almost all very informal. I’m sure that Jackie Weaver would immediately understand how it all works, but for the rest of us, the first few meetings are going to be a steep learning curve. Pray for us!
A Wide Place on Birmingham New Mainline canal this morning
It’s been a joy to visit the Birmingham Mainline canal to run again this week. I’ve had some time off because I was too enthusiastic when I restarted last time and aggravated my plantar fasciistis. I am now *much* better informed about stretching and starting back after injury or any sort of break, and how rubbish runners should also pay attention to these things. Reminds me of the time I went for a run for the first time ever, many years ago. I didn’t stretch afterwards because I thought that was only for good runners. Couldn’t walk for days. And didn’t run again for about twenty five years.
I’m still listening on my headphones as I run. I’ve been connecting with my Church of England credentials of late and reading and/or listening to around five psalms daily, following the pattern set out in the Book of Common Prayer (here’s a pdf if you’d like to try it). I have subscribed to the excellent Dwell Scripture Listening app, which has some great readers, and includes the BCP Psalm reading plan (although they don’t mention that it is Cranmer’s one in the app). So I listen to Rosie, with her northern accent, reading the Psalms (nearly) every morning. You can set the app to repeat the reading, which has enabled me to meditate on the Psalms as I get to hear the daily selection at least three times on my short and slow runs.
This morning the whole reading was from Psalm 119 (the entire psalm takes 2½ days of the plan), and the phrase that caught my ear as I meditated was:
and I shall walk in a wide place,
for I have sought your precepts.
Psalm 119:46
I loved that reminder of the space that the Lord provides for his people when they seek him – and his laws. That feeling of freedom that comes when I know that I am following God’s way and not mine. As I run I feel freedom – the space and quiet of the canals in a noisy and busy part of creation. That verse from Psalm 119 spoke to me this morning of God’s generosity and kindness, when we can so easily think of him as placing restrictions and unnecessary boundaries on us. I walked and ran in a wide place this morning – with my slow and creaking body, and in my heart and soul.
I just tweeted about this recipe, but I thought it would be good to have a less ephemeral version of it too. This is my absolutely favourite thing to do with blackberries.
I can’t remember where I first found the recipe, and they don’t resemble the cobbler that is a big scone that goes on top of a casserole or pudding. The end result is actually a sort of chewy sweet yorkshire pudding.
The sweetness of the cobbler bit balances the sharpness of the blackberries so well. They are very easy to mix up and make, and tonight we ate them straight from the oven with extra thick double cream.
Ingredients
200g caster sugar
125g self raising flour
250ml milk
115g butter, melted
A 250ml cup of blackberries
Butter a 12 hole muffin tin (I find my standard metal one works best) and put the oven on at 180C. Melt the butter (I use the microwave on defrost, so it doesn’t splatter). Then mix the sugar, flour and milk to make a batter, and then the melted butter. Distribute the batter in the muffin tin – the holes will be almost full to the top. Then put the blackberries on the top of each cobbler – my blackberries were enough for 4 per cobbler.
Bake for 30 minutes, and then remove from the tin promptly. If you leave them in, they stick!
I managed to run today! It was so good to be back on the canal. The grumpy heron flew out of the tunnel as we passed by, avoiding the Vicarage Hound, who is usually rather too keen to say hello. Sometimes the heron squawks like a pteradactyl as we run into the darkness, but he was silent this morning.
Pretty short and VERY slow
A key factor for me in being able to learn to enjoy running was having good stuff to listen to, and headphones that don’t fall out of my ears. I now have a headband with built in headphones. It keeps my lockdown hair back AND provides the sounds to keep me going. When I tried running over the years I found my head without any input far too buzzy and distracting. Over the last few months I’ve listened to the Bible (most recently using the excellent Dwell app), and to an audiobook of a book I love, Liturgy of the Ordinary, but mostly I run to a Spotify playlist that I update every time I head out with my trainers on. I can’t run to music because it (literally) puts me off my stride, so I instead I listen to the Archbishop of Sydney reading Morning Prayer from the Book of Common Prayer and then a selection of podcasts.
I’ve missed my podcasts whilst I’ve not been running over the last few months. It’s been great to get back to them.
And here are three of my current favourite listens:
Speak Life has had a brilliant series of interviews recently, with Glen Scrivener talking to some experts on abuse within the church.
5 Minutes in Church History is short, as the name suggests, but there are absolutely loads of these and Steve Nichols covers Christian history from the early church to very recent events.
Simply Put is another brief podcast. Barry Cooper explains complex theological ideas clearly and succintly.
The Vicar's Wife 