Rev James Hanson, Vicar, Burpham Church

Have you ever been surprised by unintended consequences of doing something?

In a former church where I worked, it was only once we removed furniture and allowed space on a carpet that we saw the beauty of light shining through stained glass to leave a stunning multi-coloured view on the carpet, so we could see the enormous gift that change had brought.

It is only in the past few weeks as we survey the change in the frontage at St Luke’s church that we begin to notice those changes and consequences. When we decided that we needed to remove two enormous conifers from the graveyard, we set about the process thinking that we needed to be good stewards to our buildings and grounds, so removing large trees before they risked falling in high winds, or root structures disturbing graves or the main church building itself.

But we want to replace them with something new – to create habitats for wildlife, to increase biodiversity in the graveyard and to plant new life there that will flourish and enhance the space that we have temporarily vacated. Yet, it struck me the other day as someone asked me: ‘now that we can see the church much more visibly, and light has obviously increased outside, do you notice the light increase inside?’ Great question, I thought, and it began to make me wonder about the other unintended consequences both good and bad from doing something we all still feel was the right change to make.

For starters, we have noticed a decrease in the number of pigeons alighting on the roof. We have found a number of graves that had been hitherto consumed by the large trees – each has a family connection and a story we long to embark on hearing. The new view and from the front has meant we have a more logical fire assembly point by the railings on the side where the trees were.

One of the great gifts I was given on arrival, was a set of cards from Gillian Hughes, whose painting is on this page, of St. Luke’s. In the picture, the conifers are rather junior, but the picture captures the whole of the South side. Now that the conifers are down, we can see the South side again from the road, the path and the park, so it begins to offer a sight of the church again. What Gillian managed to capture was the remarkable light bathing that South side, and the warmth that this brings just in looking outside the building. As the question came to me about light shining inside the building, I recognise that the warmth will accompany the light also – and that warmth comes also from the welcome all will receive.

As has been mentioned before, it is my dream to open the church up again more regularly – we delighted in hosting a number of services in there during the Autumn, and will do regularly in the Spring – starting with a midweek communion at Wednesday lunchtime. Come and see the light shining in the darkness, and feel the warmth – come and look outwards from within.

Blessings, Rev James.