...is glorious on a breezy summer's day, with bright sunshine after rain, and huge blue skies, and the Somerset levels stretching out beneath us as we climbed.The Tor is a tall hill, dominating the skyline of Glastonbury. Pilgrims come here, and have done for centuries. It's a place of mystery, and of faith.
Legend says that Joseph of Arimithea came here, when the small band of Christ's first followers left the Holy Land to spread the Faith everywhere after Pentecost. He planted his staff in the soil and after a time it took root, and grew - and certainly today a bush of Glastonbury Thorn, native to the Middle East, grows in the grounds of Glastonbury Abbey.
There's more to the legend, too - some say that Christ himself came here, and stayed for a season, while on a trading trip with his uncle, during those "hidden years" of his early adult life before he started his public ministry and was working as a carpenter in Nazareth. This is the origin of the idea behind Blake's "Jerusalem": "And did those feet, in ancient time, walk upon England's mountains green..."
As I drew breath and rested on my way up the Tor, I got chatting a a couple of other walkers, who talked about the legend. "We should keep our minds and hearts open to it anyway" one said...
Glastonbury made a glorious end to a happy weekend family visit, which included camping in a field (very wet, but fun!), gathering blackberries at a heavenly place where Somerset meets the sea, lots of running about with children and a puppy, a successful session in a busy seaside High Street in pouring rain finding bargains in charity-shops (a couple of really nice skirts and shirts, all for less than £12!), and a cheery Sunday Mass in a crowded church where the parish priest welcomed visitors and urged us all to gather as many apples as we wanted from his garden as he simply couldn't cope with all the bounty...
We drove home via other friends whose enchanting baby was toddling slowly across the room with deliberate steps and beaming at his achievement, and who loaded us with fresh eggs from their hens, and beautiful damsons from a plum tree groaning with fruit.
If Christ the Lord really did live here for a season, and walked the Mendip hills, and ate the apples of Avalon, and saw the evening sun going slowly down in the west, oh I hope he will give us strength now to cherish the Christian faith and not let our lovely country slither into whatever chaos descends when the message of that faith is lost...
You have a wonderful literary gift Joanna! i could sense the scene...
ReplyDeleteHi Joanna,
ReplyDeleteMy hubbie, who is a botanist, was sent a few pieces of the Glastonbury thorn tree, by a nice old lady who is in charge of the garden at an Anglican Church in Burien, Washington. Apparently, there are four Anglican Churches in the U.S. where cuttings from the Glastonbury thorn have survived. Taken from the original in Glastonbury that is said to have been sprouted from the wooden staff of Joseph of Arimathea. Unfortunately, the cuttings we have have not survived, but I think he will try again.
Thanks for your lovely blog. God bless, Adele
www.journeytotherese.blogspot.com
A beautiful post. I can smell the blackberries and plums; and I say Amen to your hope (prayer) that Christ give us the strength we need.
ReplyDeleteJoanna,
ReplyDeleteYou really must write a book of reflections on "signposts" of England's Catholic history like Glastonbury Tor. If you don't, who will?
Joanna, question for you:
ReplyDeleteIs "Jerusalem" sung in Catholic churches in England? I think of it as more "Anglican" - I know very few Catholics who've ever heard of it.
I was pleased that they played it at Ronald Reagan's state funeral.
Delighted to see your picture of Glastonbury Tor Joanna, It reminded me of my last visit with the Friends of the Holy Family, many years ago,and I'm sure you must remember picking up our little band of pilgrims from Andover,on our way to celebrate the birthday of Our Blessed Lady,8thSeptember.
ReplyDeleteIt's great reading your blog,
God Bless Joyce Munnery