By Canon Deborah Parsons, Canon Chancellor
A former parishioner gave me a book which she thought I’d enjoy, called: “Travels with a primate.” In it, Terry Waite recounts his travels with Archbishop Robert Runcie. On one occasion, they travelled to the North of Nigeria.
After driving through land which was dry and arid, Archbishop Runcie turned to Archbishop Timothy and said: “The ground seems a little parched.” An understatement, if ever there was one. Archbishop Timothy replied: “There’s been no rain for ten years.” Archbishop Runcie replied: “Ten years is a very long time.”
As his visit was drawing to a close, Archbishop Runcie was invited to preach at a large service held in his honour. The theme of his sermon was: “Nothing is real unless it is local.” At the end of the service, in an unscripted moment, Archbishop Timothy asked Archbishop Runcie to give a blessing at the Great West door. The doors were opened, and as he lifted his arm to bless the people who’d gathered inside and out, there was an almighty crash and shouts erupted as drops of rain began to fall. Infants were squealing with delight. They had never seen rain before. Archbishop Timothy was visibly moved. He said: “You will never be forgotten in these parts, your Grace. Never. Here you will always be known as The Rainmaker.”
This week, the Anglican Church celebrated St. Swithun’s Day, named after a ninth century Bishop of Winchester, who asked for a humble burial outside the Minster. His wish was granted, but when the new cathedral was built, his bones were translated to a shrine inside the building, despite warnings that to do so would bring about terrible storms. Although many miracles were observed and cures claimed, when his bones were translated on 15th July 971, it apparently did rain for forty days, so folklore tells that if it rains on 15th July, it will rain for the next forty days, and if it’s fair, it will be fair for the next forty days.
In Devon, it did rain on St. Swithun’s Day. For some, the rain will have been a welcome relief. Rivers and reservoirs are running low. Yorkshire Water has already imposed a hosepipe ban and South East Water, Thames Water and Southern Water are set to follow.
For others, particularly those affected by the recent storms, flash flooding or pollution, the heavy rainfall will not have been welcome.
Water is a powerful symbol in many religious and spiritual traditions. In the Hebrew Scriptures and in the New Testament it is multi-faceted, encompassing chaos and order, death and rebirth; cleansing and renewal; God’s power and presence.
In the creation stories found in Genesis, God gives birth to creation by bringing shape and order to watery chaos, and by turning the chaos of water into a source of vitality. In the story of The Flood, in Genesis, God commands the waters to fill the earth from above and below, sweeping away evil, and temporarily restoring the earth to its pre-creation state. As the waters receded, God’s relationship with creation is reborn through a covenant never to destroy the earth by flood again (Genesis 9:11).
In the Gospels, Jesus dives into the chaos of humanity through his baptism in the River Jordan, bringing order out of chaos and life out of death. He calms a chaotic storm (Mark 4:35-41), walks on water (Matthew 14:22-33) and refers to himself as living water, which becomes a spring of eternal life within those who believe in him, and Revelation (21:6) describes a river of the “water of life,” clear as crystal water, flowing from God’s throne with its promise of refreshment, salvation and the Holy Spirit.
In the western world, we take for granted having access to clean drinking water. There is a public outcry when sewage or pollutants are released into our rivers, seas or waterways. Yet, many people in the world do not have access to safe drinking water and die each year from drinking contaminated water, with many losing their lives as a result of famine, fire or flash flooding.
May we recognise water as a precious gift, and be responsible stewards of all that we have been given.