The Parish Church of St John-at-Hampstead

On Saturday October 13th Westminster Abbey held a National Pilgrimage to the shrine of St Edward the Confessor, to celebrate his Feast day.

Edward died in January 1066 and was buried in the Romanesque Abbey church he had built. His initial burial place was unknown until archeologists only re-discovered a ‘lost’ underground chamber in 2005.

Almost a hundred years after his death, on October 13th 1163, Edward’s body was moved, or ‘translated’ to a shrine within the Abbey.  Another hundred years on, in 1269, again on October 13th, his relics were ‘translated’ once more, to a shrine in the new Gothic church begun on the site by Henry III in 1245. Nowadays, this same medieval shrine is normally closed to general visitors, but it remains at the heart of the Abbey, where the ‘Feast of the Translation’ is the principal celebration of Edward’s life.

Our Pilgrimage
Emma had organised a communal breakfast in the crypt at 7.45am, after which around 30 people set off from Hampstead to walk to the Abbey. It was a glorious day and Emma and family had ‘test-run’ an excellent route, taking in a substantial stretch of Regent’s Park, which glowed and sparkled in golden morning sunlight.
From the park we proceeded along the busy West End streets down to Horse Guards Parade & finally, at 11am, arrived at Parliament Square and the Abbey.

It was a real joy walking and talking to different St. John’s members along the way and meeting up with a few additional Hampstead ‘pilgrims’ who joined us at various pre-arranged points en route.

The Abbey was packed for the 11.30 Eucharist Service and we heard a fine sermon on the traditions and meaning of Pilgrimage by the Dean of Canterbury Cathedral. He mentioned leaving Canterbury that morning after an early service there, but he didn’t mention anything about his means of travel to London – somehow, I doubt he walked!

After the Agnus Dei the choir sang Monteverdi’s exquisite Beatus Vir (Psalm 112), one of my all-time favourite works, so, to slightly mis-quote from that Psalm, ‘I had great delight and my heart was sustained’.

After the Eucharist, pilgrims queued to visit the shrine itself, and in spite of the numbers walking round, there was a very quiet, focussed atmosphere which I think everyone found moving. 

I was surprised at my reactions, being someone who has always had huge difficulty with the notion of shrines and veneration of relics. I regarded them as medieval superstitions bordering on idolatory but, being there, the silent power of centuries of prayer seemed to physically radiate out from the stones.

Later I attended a Healing Liturgy, again at the shrine. In the stillness of that service and bathed in incense, I found an even deeper and more moving awareness of being in a sacred space.

Being prepared for a long day, I’d brought a sandwich, so went to the cloisters to eat it. There I had a glimpse of one of the activities organised for children. It looked like a school party gathered round a real-life ‘medieval pilgrim’ (appropriately dressed), who was telling his young audience about ‘his’ everyday life. They were enthralled and were eagerly asking him lots of questions.
Other children’s activities were happening in the Education Centre but I didn’t see any of them.

Another very moving experience was the Foot Washing Liturgy – and also, from a practical point of view, a very welcome cooling down for my rather hot, well-walked feet! I was the only one there at that time and the woman who foot-washed me said that hardly any individuals had come over, mostly it was groups. I think mine were probably the last feet she washed.

After that, I started to follow the Prayer Trail given in the Abbey handout, but only got half way round when access to the last few locations was closed by 2.30pm in preparation for Evensong at 3pm.

This service was also very well-attended, although not by as many people as in the morning.
During the first hymn, there was a Collegiate procession round the south aisle to the Lady Chapel where a bible reading was heard (but of course not seen by the congregation) and during the second hymn the procession returned via the north aisle, all with simple solemnity.

After Evensong there was another opportunity to visit the shrine, but having been there twice already, I didn’t feel any need to join the long queue again!

Having steeped myself all day in the timeless Abbey surroundings (so different to when I visited it last year amongst countless tourists), I found it very difficult to leave and make my way back into the hectic world. I walked slowly round the precincts pondering whether to walk all the way back home.

The Dean, in his sermon, had mentioned that in former times inevitably pilgrims had no alternative but to leave on foot, so their return walk was still part of the pilgrimage, providing a gradual adjustment back into everyday life.
But they didn’t do it all in one day!

I walked and wondered, but alas, the sight of Westminster station by then was too tempting – and my feet were getting sore! – so I succumbed, gratefully accepting modern civilization as I touched in at the barrier.
However, the trains were crowded, so I did stand all the way; perhaps that nearly counts?!

Thank you Emma and family for leading such a special day.

Barbara Alden

Further perspectives on the day:

The Dean of Canterbury Cathedral remarked that often the pilgrim journey ended in a degree of disappointment when the goal was reached, because despite the satisfaction of arriving safely, a great deal of value came from the actual journey.  Those from our church who walked the whole way to Westminster Abbey will no doubt have a wealth of anecdotes.  I failed to arrive at the designated pick-up spot in Lower Regent Street at the appointed time, so Emma sent a  earch party in response to my mobile call  Jeremy and Andrew.  They elected to take a small short cut toward Horse Guards Road with a mild degree of guilt at deviating from the route, but that led to the thought that perhaps when the disciples were on the road to Emmaus they only met the stranger because they had taken a short cut.  In my view those unexpected moments of understanding are of tremendous value, so I found myself feeling greatly uplifted by that experience.
 
There are also times when words are inadequate and I found it interesting that the moments of silence in a sacred space were as important as the service, though one visual image remains, a line of seated priests in the sanctuary, with their gold and red copes wrapped around them like the folded wings of angels.
 Beryl Dowsett

In the abbey (having traversed some of the most commercial streets of the West End, all filling up with shoppers) I fell to wondering what on earth had induced so many of us very normal-looking people to devote our Saturday morning to venerating a relatively little talked about English saint!

I came to the conclusion it had something to do with the enduring attraction of religious worship and the ever-present human need to search for a meaning to life; with the need to reflect on the great mysteries of our existence; to connect to those who have gone before us and left wonderful legacies like the building in which we found ourselves; to wonder at the survival of our faith and the relevance of it to our individual  lives. It was quite a sensual experience – the beauty of the building, the smell of the incense…………almost other worldly.
 Sheila Wrigglesworth

I thought it was a wonderful event in very many ways.
Breakfast in the crypt – the standards were high – proper coffee, smoked salmon and cream cheese bagels, fresh pastries, bananas – we were off to a good start!
Glorious autumn weather and I realised yet again how fortunate we are to have London’s parks to enjoy.
Chatting to people I had not met before – what a treat!
An event that embraced all ages from toddlers in push chairs to the sprightly over 80’s.
Arriving at our destination felt like a real achievement and then we had the beautiful Wesminster Abbey in front of us and a moving service – a fitting end (although not the end for those who were able to stay on, of course.)
I know it has been said before but it did feel like a modern Canterbury Tales.
Diana Finning