'Startling Stars'

Last Sunday (16^th May) our Church Choir went "on the road" to sing Compline at St Luke's Church, Grimethorpe.  I decided to join them but I thought I would go "off road" on my bike.  It seems a long way round in the car and by making use of some of the many dismantled railway tracks, I thought a much more direct and interesting route could be taken. 

I set off at about 4.45pm on a glorious afternoon, along Kingwell and up behind St Thomas's to cut through Bank End.  I was surprised to see a huge blue tent pitched at Maltas Court and also that more people weren't out on their front gardens enjoying the sun.  I cut through the snicket from Monkspring to White Cross Lane - I always get speed up past the farm because there's sometimes a huge dog there with an intimidating bark!

Along the small road past the idyllic setting of Swaithe Hall; slowing up for a handsome ginger cat which stood in the gap where the path suddenly narrows - it took a few steps and vanished into the undergrowth.  Here Cork Lane sinks down between hedges and under leafy trees forming a secret tunnel that is only just navigable.  Last time I went through I was amazed that joyriders had managed to get a car in there before burning it out.  Luckily it has been removed now but at what expense and effort? 

Away to the right there are acres of rapeseed, vibrantly coloured and heavily (though still just pleasantly) odorous.  I had recently looked across at this great swathe of yellow from the top of Mount Vernon Road.  In contrast, the fields near Round Green were deep red, making the huge sweep of the Dale look like a giant arena where Barnsley were playing Norwich.

On again past what looks like a disused chicken farm and over the remains of the canal;  what a shame that we are not able to see narrow boats plying their way up here as far as The Wharf.

I turned left along Wombwell Lane, passing an odd little footpath sign marked "Geological Marine Band Display” (any explanations?).   A bit further, opposite Tesco I got onto the railway track and after going over Stairfoot turned right onto the branch that goes north beside Grange Lane with Views of Monk Bretton Priory.  Next came a beautiful stretch where the railway track sweeps in a great curve above the meandering River Dearne.  With the ubiquitous May Blossom and a herd of cows statuesquely chewing the cud, it is as scenic a spot as you could wish for.  I was just revelling in all this when I nearly had to ride into the verge to avoid being mown down by two off road bikes and two quad bikes travelling at speed.  The din soon passed, but for the next half mile or so the air was full of fumes and dust.  Before it had cleared I had to be on my guard again - luckily I heard the sound of air rifles (being shot across the track) before I was left to the mercy of whether they had noticed me coming or not!

Leaving the track at Wood Nook, I went along a lane to reach the outskirts of Cudworth and Ring Farm where the magnificent Police Horses were out in the paddocks.  Then it was on the roads briefly before finding the track that leaves Cudworth in the direction of Grimethorpe.  To start with it was lined each side with about every item of household rubbish you can imagine.  But soon I was away from it all again, though only briefly before reaching the devastation of Ferry Moor Land Reclamation Site - rusted steel rods twisting out of half smashed concrete beside pools of water that is just a bit too green to be natural.  Now it was across the bypass and up the hill to find St Luke's where the choir were just getting set up in good time for the 6 o'clock service.

The priest, Father Peter, introduced the service, telling us that the office of Compline is one of the oldest services of the Church, going right back to the early Church itself.  Once the monastic system had developed, with the services of Mattins in the early hours through Lauds, Prime, Sext, None, Terse and Vespers (Evensong), Compline was the final service, "completing" both the day and its cycle of prayer.  Fr Peter had himself lived as a Friar in a Franciscan community for 25 years, singing Compline every night.  Now, however, only his dogs join him for the service on a regular basis and they don't sing, so he says the office instead!  The dogs were present in Church for this particular service, prompting some of the Choir members to ask for a "church dog" too.
The Choir sang beautifully.  The priest followed the service with Benediction and described our visit as "a startling star" in their centenary celebrations.

On leaving the Church, it was one of those really ambient evenings where everything that can absorb the sun's heat is radiating it out again, carrying the scents of blossom and cut grass with extraordinary intensity.  Shirts were off all over the place and someone had carried a settee out into the park, thronged by youngsters.  I decided to go home by a different route along a little track and lane almost to Great Houghton before plunging down through a magnificent beech wood to join another track into Little Houghton.  A tarmac path crossed the river and took me to Darfield.  Here and there the tarmac was worn away to reveal the cobbles of what must have been a much older surface.  It’s quite enchanting to ponder all the little routes like this which must have been so important before we whizzed everywhere in cars.  Unfortunately the path also provided good access for the systematic dismantling and theft of stone from a wall which runs alongside it.

Through Darfield I found another little path along the river that eventually got me to the Dove Valley Trail.  After avoiding another posse of air riflers (one again shooting in a dangerous manner across the track) I was able to get a last burst of speed up to return towards Worsbrough Bridge and finally up Vernon Road and home. 

Now that all the choir have their new robes, perhaps we should save up to buy them each a bike too.  The journey certainly added to my enjoyment of the worship.  Or maybe next time they are out and about you should join them.  If there are no spaces in cars I can always offer a “seater”.

A whole different Ball Game?

In your opinion, which of the following 5 statements is most similar to the sixth statement? Or, if you are not happy with any of them, think up your own football analogy (or any other for that matter) which is a better 'match'.

1.      Can you be a footballer if you don't believe in grass?

2.      Can you be a footballer if you don't believe in goals?

3.      Can you be a footballer if you don't believe in balls?

4.      Can you be a footballer if you don't believe in the team?

5.      Can you be a footballer if you don't believe in competition?

6.      Can you be a Christian if you don't believe in God?

You may think that the answer is a very obvious 'NO'.  But that is to beg rather a large number of other questions:

What do we mean by 'a Christian'?

If we mean 'someone who believes in God' then the answer to 6 is obvious.

However, many people's normal use of 'Christian' means something like: a person who leads a good life - who is thoughtful, honest, unselfish and generous to others.'  You don't have to believe in God to be that.

Another definition of a Christian, perhaps the most literal one, is: a follower of Christ'.  Sounds promising, but suddenly we are confronted by a host of other puzzles to solve: the four gospels and St Paul all give us differing interpretations of who Jesus was and it's quite possible that they all differ from how Jesus understood himself.  So how are we to interpret him 2000 years later?  And what is the relationship between 'Christ' as worshipped and spoken of by 'the Church' and Jesus of Nazareth, the first century Jew?

The distinctive thing about Jesus was not that he believed in God.  He obviously did, but then so did your average first century Jew.  The distinctive thing about him (in my opinion) was his radical reinterpretation of God's 'kingdom' (as he called it) and therefore his radical reinterpretation of God.  The religious people of his time thought he was going much too far to the point of blasphemy - one of the reasons he ended up on a cross - one that we should never forget.  So, going back to question 6 …

What do we mean by God?

The Almighty - who, as almighty, is presumably behind everything that happens in this world, the evil and the good?

A kind fatherly figure who is there for us and bails us out when we need him (but for some reason occasionally goes off duty while innocent children are suffering!)?

An idea (within our shared consciousness - in other words our language) which holds our highest aspirations?

A way of speaking of the 'Life Force' or the sheer wonder of existence.

The depth dimension within each one of us - our real potential?

The struggle for justice - overturning corrupt power and liberating the oppressed?

The list could go on, but is perhaps best ended with a Chinese proverb:

If you meet the Buddha on the road, kill him."

In other words, if you think you have finally found the divine - Beware.  It is not the divine that you have found - it can only be an idol which if you embrace it as the final answer will only lead to your ruin.  Our religion is a journey and never a destination (in my opinion!).

Popular forms of religion often seem to have a lot in common with popular forms of superstition.  That is to say that for all their piety and expressed belief, they are actually more about us and our need for security and meaning than anything else.  True belief needs at least a healthy dose of atheism to purify it of all the dross that so easily accumulates. 

Where does all this get us?  It gets me to a point where I want to echo the advertising for the launch BBC4: "Everybody needs a place to think."  I don't want the Church to be a place where we find 'Truth' in an easy to open package.  Instead I want it to be a place where there is space, for everyone who wants it, to think through the questions and issues that are most important to them; where they can do so with the help of the best of the resources available in the Christian tradition and in the company of a community of people who are going to give them honest and loving support.

I hope this article will have provoked some thought and if so I hope they are thoughts that you will pursue.  And I would be interested to hear what you think - whether you think along the same lines I do or not.

For Better or Worse

Don't you hate it when your regular supermarket goes and changes round all the aisles?  I mean, why do they do it when it causes so much confusion and no obvious improvement?

In my childhood we often went on holiday to Scotland.  It was a vast and rugged wilderness in contrast to the homely island of Jersey.  It seemed to take ages to get right up into the Highlands, often travelling on single track roads with some long reverses to the passing places and frequent pauses to avoid the black faced-sheep. 
In our VW Dormobile Camper Van it was sometimes quite a hairy experience, but that just added to the wonderful sense of adventure and remoteness which was what it was all about.

Last time I went to Scotland (on our honeymoon) there were a lot of new roads on the major routes.  The passage had been eased by levelling and blasting so that you can sail along on your way without thinking.  The odd little wiggles of 'old road', scattered disjointedly on either side, gave you just the odd reminder of days gone by.  To me it was an 'improvement' that destroyed part of the spirit that I wanted to remember.

It saddens me when I'm reminded how many species of animals are being brought to the brink of extinction with many of them going further and plunging over the edge.  Modern life has a lot to answer for. 

But perhaps that is a bit of a distorted picture of how things are.  Hasn't it always been the case that species have been dying and new species have been evolving in response to the changing conditions of the environment?  If all the species that have ever existed were still present now (including of course the dinosaurs) then things would be more than a little crowded and probably not very pleasant!

When it seems like all change is for the worse, perhaps we need to look again.  It may well be that everything we hold dear is vanishing.  But maybe those things are irrelevant for the next generation - not because young people in general have no sense of respect or value but rather because a new matrix of value is emerging that is equally valid and more relevant for the times.  Sure enough if your eyes are so trained to see only the old ways then the new will just look like chaos.  But if you put aside your suspicion of chaos (or better still learn to surf it) perhaps all kinds of new patterns will reveal themselves.

So for instance if you're afraid of change in the Church ask yourself the following question: Would you rather the Church becomes extinct when you do just so long as it never changes; or would you rather take the risk of seeing it free to repeatedly die and rise again just as it always has done?

Opening Up

Sometimes I get the feeling that I'd like to pack in being a Vicar.  (After all, I'm only a fairly normal bloke and still quite young).  In fact for a significant time last year I decided that the time had come. But what with one thing and another, things seem to have fallen back into place and for now at least I suspect that we shall be around for a while yet!

Having thought seriously about leaving and having come back from the brink so to speak has made me appreciate even more the good things about living in Worsbrough.  Here are just two of them: We can walk out of our house and within a few dozen yards be looking out on a view as striking as any you could wish for.  We have a good school for our girls almost literally on the doorstep.

Jemima has been attending the pre-school for 2 months now and absolutely thrives on it.  Imogen is into her second term at nursery and starting to really settle in and gain in confidence.  We have found one of the easiest temptations to a parent - to bombard a child with questions as soon as you pick them up from school: What have you been doing? Who did you play with? Did you drink your milk? Bang! Bang! Bang!  I suppose it's only because you care so much as a parent that you forget so completely how tiresome it was to be pestered in such a way by your own parents.  The effect is often to silence a child completely.

I'm a great believer in questions - there is nothing more important but it's also important how you pose them.  They can be tools for liberation but can also feel like instruments of control.

I'm trying, with Imogen, to use the phrase I wonder.  "I wonder if there were biscuits for snacks today." - appearing not to mind whether she is even listening or not.  Almost every time she is in there like a shot confirming or better still putting me right.

The great thing about the view in Worsbrough is the sense of openness and space that it brings.  Good questions bring the same sort of freedom.  I get disillusioned with the Church when it seems to be a closed shop, when it's doctrines seem designed to control and manipulate the way we think.  However, on my good days I'm committed to believing that it doesn't have to be and mustn't be that way.

It was a year and a half later that I finally did move on!

The grass may be greener - but so might you

We wanted to get from Ibarra to San Lorenzo.  According to the guidebook the only way was by train (for train read converted school bus that runs on railway chassis on the tracks) and you have to get there early in the day and fight for your ticket.  As it happened when we did get there the train was just pulling into the station but would not be leaving again for another 3 days at least.  Gunnar, the German I had met in Quito, had 3 months travelling but I only had 3 weeks so couldn’t afford that kind of wait.  News then arrived somehow from somewhere that a bus was about to leave.  Bus? But we thought there was no road.  A new one.  Is it finished?  A non-committal look and mention of “landslides permitting”.  Oh well, it’s supposed to be an adventure so we piled in with all the locals.

We anticipated a spectacular journey.  Ibarra is at 2210 metres on the Andes plateau in the north of Ecuador and San Lorenzo is 193 km away at sea level.  Most of the drop occurs on the first half of the route.  You move from the relatively barren landscape of the high altitude páramo through the tropical cloud and rain forests down to the mangroves swamps of the coastline.

The bus was full by the time we set off but of course that didn’t stop it filling up further as we began our descent.  Our rucksacks were jammed onto our laps and people and the occasional farm animal seemed to be pressing in from all sides.  It was going to be a long day especially as none of the locals seem to wear deodorant.   When the bus really was full, newcomers started climbing up onto the roof.  We were trundling along at a conservative speed, slowing now and then to avoid a landslip, so I started to envy them their vantagepoint – not only the fresh air and extra elbowroom but also access to the fantastic views that were now opening up on all sides.

I was lucky.  When we arrived at a bridge that was a bit shaky, we passengers were asked to get out and walk across to reduce the risk of the bus plunging into the ravine.  I took my chance and clambered up amongst the assorted cargo.  Gunnar decided to remain below.  My fellow dare devils greeted me with a smile and soon the wind was blowing through our hair, the sun shining on our faces and all was right with the world.  Of course grass is always greener and when a double mattress was hoisted onto the front of the roof, I envied those who claimed seats that were luxuriant compared to the rather harsh comfort of the roof rack at the back.

Before long though (an hour or two say – time is relative on such journeys) more people started to leave the bus than embark.  Finally I was in heaven when I was the only remaining passenger on the roof and I claimed the mattress all to myself.  Seldom can such amazing views have been enjoyed from such a unique and privileged position.

At least that’s what I thought ….

                                                                                …. until …

….. slowly but unmistakably ….

….  the driver’s foot began to descend on the accelerator. 

I hadn’t given it much thought at the start of the journey – when I was still indoors – that the driver had quickly consumed a couple of bottles of dodgy looking beer – well everything is a bit more relaxed in a place like that!  Now I began to wonder.  At slow speed the potholes had been avoided or felt as slow lurches.  Now they had the effect of launching me several inches into the air.  Luckily the mattress had been lashed on with a couple of ropes and I hung on to these for dear life while the rest of me performed what must have been a very impressive series of trampoline stunts.  I closed my eyes and prayed …

The thought that kept me going through the long ordeal was the passport control point somewhere ahead where I knew we would finally have to stop.  So it was that I lowered myself back onto terra firma.  My hair and clothes were full of dust and I’m sure I must have looked like a wide eyed ghost.  I think the driver knew exactly what he had been doing and I made sure I didn’t catch his eye as I disappeared into the bushes behind the bus.  


The trip to Ecuador was made in 1997.

Samuel Joshua Cooper: Benefactor of St Thomas Church

In the second half of the 19^th century and the early years of the 20^th century Mr Samuel Joshua Cooper was a local business man and a great benefactor to the Barnsley area, in particular to St Thomas’, the church he attended and his period of office as churchwarden (21 years) is still the longest.

Whilst in Barnsley Library Archives I found this obituary to him in the Barnsley Chronicle dated 19^th July 1913.

Samuel Joshua Cooper (known as Mr S J Cooper) died at his residence at Mount Vernon on Friday at 12.30 a.m. on July 11^th 1913 aged 82, (his wife having died 2 years previously).

Samuel Joshua Cooper was the son of Samuel Cooper of Park House, Barnsley who was in his day a colliery proprietor and a linen manufacturer and who died in 1849.

On the death of his father Mr Samuel Joshua Cooper inherited a considerable fortune and for some time continued to carry on a colliery at Worsborough but subsequently closed it.

He didn’t take an active part in municipal or other public affairs but was none the less interested. He tried to avoid publicity and no one knows the full extent of his generosity.

He helped the poor of Barnsley, Worsborough and Districts, giving liberally through local clergy, often remaining anonymous.

A devout churchman, those connected with the work of the church in the York and Wakefield Dioceses were familiar with him.

He lived at Mount Vernon and had estates at Snaith in the Diocese of York, often helping with central funds as well as individual parishes. Also Wakefield Diocese benefited from his generosity.

He gave endowments of £100 each to St Johns’ and St Georges’, Barnsley for Augmentations of the Living. He also helped Denby Dale.

It was mostly through his financial assistance that the new mission church of St Lukes’ Worsborough Common in the parish of St Thomas’ Worsbrough Dale, (the church Mr Cooper attended) was built.

He made a gift of £500 towards St Marys’ Church’ New Boys School in Barnsley, completed last year (1912).

He took a deep interest in education affairs and was formerly a governor of Barnsley Holgate Grammar School to which he gave £1500 for the foundation of a ‘Cooper’ Scholarship in 1893.

The most striking public gift to Barnsley and one which will stand as a lasting memory to him as a benefactor was the Nurses’ Home adjoining Beckett Hospital. This was completed and opened in 1902 at a cost of £5000.

Several months ago (1912-1913) when Barnsley Grammar School was removed from its historic premises in Church Street to new buildings in Shaw Lane Mr Cooper purchased the old school house and placed it at the disposal of the local branch of the National Reserve at a nominal rent for the Headquarters of the Club.

At this instance there is now being erected near the scene of the disaster a memorial (stone monument) to the victims of the Oaks Colliery explosion (as no steps at Ardsley had been taken towards this).

Mr Cooper some years ago was appointed to Commissioner of the Peace for the Staincross Division of the West Riding but never qualified to act as a magistrate. He was largely interested in a number of local industrial undertakings and at one time was a director of Barnsley Gas Company and other concerns.

Trustees of a charitable fund newly created called ‘The Joshua Cooper Fund’ at their meeting in Sheffield on Tuesday with the Right Rev. Lord Bishop of Sheffield in the chair, passed a resolution that they desired to place in the Barnsley Chronicle their deep sense of appreciation of the great worth of Mr Joshua Cooper of Mount Vernon.

He gave by deed dated 15^th June 1912 a sum to the West Riding Charitable Society of £1000 and intended making further gifts to the same society, income being applied in assisting persons resident in what will be the Diocese of Sheffield and the Diocese of Wakefield within a 10 mile radius of the Parish Church of Barnsley.

In September 1912 Mr Cooper gave a further £1000 upon the same Trusts.

Rev. W. Elmhurst being a member of the Committee managing these Trusts with the Bishop of Sheffield, the Rector of Darfield and others.

Mr Cooper was elected a Trustee of the West Riding Miners’ Permanent Relief Society at its first Delegates’ Meeting on 18^th September 1877 and continued to act as such till 1893 when he resigned having remained a life honorary member.

Internment took place at the family vault on Monday afternoon at St Thomas’ Church, Worsborough Dale. The funeral cortege being small and simple but the church being very crowded long before the arrival of the procession.

Outside the church and all the way from Mount Vernon the road was lined with men and women.  The cortege was met by Rev. W. Banham at the church. He was accompanied by most of the Vicars of Barnsley and the Rector of Barnsley.The Vicars of St Georges’ and St Johns’, St Peters’, St. Edwards’, the Rector of Darfield, the Vicar of Worsborough, the Worsborough Common Curate in Charge and the Curate of St Thomas’.

The service was simple but impressive. The coffin bore the simple inscription:

Samuel Joshua Cooper
Died July 11^th 1913
Aged 82 years

Most of the notaries of Barnsley seemed to be present including the Mayor and members of the Elmhirst family, Dr Banham and many members of Worsborough Urban District Council.

Among many beautiful wreaths was one from Mr and Mrs Spencer Stanhope, Cannon Hall and from the Sunday School teachers at St Thomas; and many others.

Taken from Barnsley Chronicle 19^th July 1913 – Barnsley Archives.

The following shows the Trust Funds set up by SJ Cooper within our Parish:

28 Nov 1890        Deed Poll declaring trust of Cottages on Warren Common, including Canning Street for the benefit of St Thomas Church (“Cottage a/c) the property was sold in 1938 and the proceeds invested

25 May 1903       £150 4% Preference Stock on Special Trust for upkeep of the Cooper Tomb

12 Sep 1904       £1000 on Special Trust for warming, lighting and maintenance of divine service at St James Church

08 June 1905      £2000 on Trust to supply coals & blankets for the poor

01 Aug 1905       £474.2.2 India 3½% stock added to the £1000 of 12Sep1904

20 March 1907    £500 on Special Trust for repairs to St James Church

23 Sep 1907       £1500 on Special Trust for heating, lighting, cleaning and organist salary at St James Church

30 Jan 1909        1754 Sq yards and buildings (adjacent to St James Church) on Special Trust, income to be used for salary of organist or caretaker at St James Church

07 Aug 1909       £500 on Special Trust for salary of Verger or Caretaker at St James Church

28 Aug 1908       £200 on Special Trust for repair of churches of St Thomas & St Luke (Banham Jubilee Repair Fund)

19 Sep 1911       Will extract of F Cooper, £300 for the requirements of the Chancel of St Thomas Church (choir surplices, altar cloths, furniture, organ tuning & repair)

16 Jan 1912        £500 on Special Trust for benefiting the sick and poor

21 June 1912      Conveyance and Declaration of Trust of a site for a Curate's House in Worsbrough Dale (19 Bank End Road, which was later sold, and “Melrose” 49 Mount Vernon Road was bought.  When the latter was sold the capital was kept on Trust for general church purposes)

22 July 1912       £480:13:4 invested in £600 Perpetual 3% Debenture Stock on Trust for bills on Curate's House.

05 April 1913      £2000 on Special Trust for salary of female parochial worker in memory of late F Cooper

 The PCC still holds all the capital from these funds, though after reorganisation only two remain as Trust Funds: The Curate’s House Fund (currently valued around £80,000) and The Fanny & Samuel Joshua Cooper Memorial Fund (£75,000).  Nearly all the capital is now held in shares with the Church of England Central Board of Finance and the total value of the Cooper Investments (including the two just mentioned) is around £200,000 (helped by the excellent growth for the CBF shares between 1990 and 2000).  The investments provide a steady income of around £10,000 for Church funds – 90 years after his death we still have good reason to be grateful to Mr Cooper.  The Cooper Tomb has recently been tidied up and can be found at the East End of St Thomas’ Church.        

J Meek & G Holmes

Contrast

I write this on the first day of really miserable weather – cold, grey and drizzly – that I can remember for months and months.  How long will it take, I wonder, to get back into the habit of complaining that our weather is always awful?

Through the summer I have taken advantage of the opportunity to play tennis over at the Barnsley Tennis Club over at Wilthorpe.  As Brits we complain about our tennis players almost as much as we do about the climate, but tennis is a great game to play (and not as humbling as golf).

On a par with the tennis is the cycle ride home.  It’s a stiff climb up to the hospital and a bit of a slog around Pogmoor Road and then up Broadway.  But as soon as you move from Keresforth Hall Road to Genn Lane it’s like a dream.  Apart from being pleasantly downhill nearly all the way, the views to the south and west are magnificent especially when the sun is just setting away over the Pennines.  You can briefly pick out the wind turbines that are above Ingbirchworth and the now nationally famous Wentworth Castle sits proudly above the misty valley which is striped with long dusky shadows.

On such a late summer evening as you race along on a bike you can feel the heat radiating out from the wall and the black tarmac of the road – heat that has been stored up throughout the long sunny day.  But then you pass Ouslethwaite and descending more steeply you approach the sharp bend at the bottom of Cromwell Mount.  Here the wall seems to step back slightly and a broad depression runs from somewhere near Highstone Farm all the way down to the reservoir.  The effect is a distinct drop in the temperature of the air, together with a chilled cabbagey smell from whatever was grown in the field above the road.  The sudden transition is a wonderful sensation and one I think you only get when riding a bike at evening.  Though it does remind me of when I used to get home from school in Cambridge and stopping only to put on shorts and pick up a towel, run over the river footbridge and along to the outdoor pool on Jesus’ Green – diving into the cold water without a second thought.

What would life be without contrast?  We may not welcome all the changes that come our way.  Often we would prefer to stay with the long stored up cosiness of familiarity.  But life is movement and change – to resist change is to be its victim but to be immersed in it and attempt to shape the future is to live with hope.