Day 18 - Resting in Ryde

It's always fun to go to another church incongnito. I enjoy seeing things through the eyes of a visitor. Quite often I'm impressed by the welcome and interest I receive. Sadly more often I feel let down by churches that don't seem very concerned about someone coming in for the first time.

This morning's experience was one of the positive ones. I was welcomed at the door of St James' Church, Ryde, with a handshake and a smile. More genuine welcome from the man who gave me a hymnbook and notice sheet, and an easy conversation with the lady who asked if she could join me in the box pew that I'd chosen. After the service, someone else came up and started to chat. Excellent informal ministry.

St James is an unusual church in the Church of England. There were no signs that it is an Anglican church, and at times in the service I wondered if it was completely independent. The minister, James Leggett, wore suit and tie and preached from the central lectern. There was neither communion table nor candles. He told me afterwards that it's a strange extra-parochial church, he ministers under licence of the Bishop of Portsmouth but has no parish (or parish share to raise!)

The style was conservative evangelical, with a sermon on John 3.36 that focussed on substitutionary atonement and the 'simplicity' of the implications of acceptance or rejection of Christ. "It's not rocket science!", said James.

It was orthodox, if un-nuanced, and preached with skill and conviction. The congregation was a similar size to St Paul's, with a much greater proportion of children and teenagers.

I was invited to join the church for coffee afterwards and it was good to be among them. Word got around that I was on a long walk and I eventually revealed to one or two (but not the vicar) what I normally do.

St James was the third anglican church I'd considered. I'd initially planned on the first church that I'd walked past on Saturday evening, but Diana the landlady told me at breakfast that I'd be lucky to be in a congregation of more than six.

I'd then visited the biggest church in Ryde, whose impressive building stands behind a wall on a neatly trimmed lawn, on a road of huge houses. Everything was 'proper' but it was curious to see the word 'traditional' used twice on the noticeboard. It was an emphasis I wasn't looking for on this particular day.

After watching Jenson Button win the Spanish Grand Prix, I set off for another walk along the coast east of Ryde. It was odd to walk without a pack on my back and I experienced a curious 'floaty' feeling, almost like being back on the rolling ferry.

I began in a bit of a fed-up mood. Without a proper journey to make today, I was missing Jennifer, Jon and Phil more than ever. Being at the seaside, among families and couples, reminded me even more of who wasn't with me. And the the Solent, with mainland Britain so close but so obviously separate, curiously made me feel more distant than I had felt in France.

But soon the cool wind dropped and as I walked I felt the rythmn of my journey return. I walked through a park in which a huge gang of children were playing war games, separating themselves into English and German teams (I wonder how long that will continue).

By the time I stopped and sat on a bench, the wind fell completely and through the high clouds the sun was lovely and warm.

I'm trying a two-meal diet at the moment. A good-sized breakfast sees me though to the evening, so I skipped lunch and had a curry this evening. It was reasonable, but not the same as back home.

Proverbs 4.12 was today's walking verse: When you walk, your step will not be hampered; and if you run, you will not stumble.