Sundays after Trinity, churchyards, and Summer days

Quiet, empty churches relax after strenuous attempts to define the Trinity.

Ronald Blythe's words - from a wonderful collection of his writings, Next to Nature: A Lifetime in the English Countryside - speak of these Sundays after Trinity in late June, stretching into July and August. In the parish, Sunday congregations begin to decrease from mid-June, as the holiday season starts. Empty spaces in the pews are noticeable. The choir departs, returning in September. Sunday services are now said rather than sung, with a few hymns. When Choral Evensong resumes, we will be well into September. Parishioners wish each other well for travels. 

It is a good time for the parish. A fallow time. A time to enjoy the quieter, simpler rhythms of these Sundays in Summer. 

On those Summer Sundays when I am without clerical duties, I enjoy slipping into the back pews of nearby parish churches, hearing the words of Matins, decent hymns, and thoughtful sermons. Sunday Matins is, I think, particularly suited for such a time of rest and refreshment.

Considering that the majority of churchyards are witness to 1,000 years of tears, it is strange that they are so pleasant to visit, to wander in, to sit on a summer's day.

Well, not quite 1,000 years here in Jeremy Taylor country, but certainly hundreds of years. In the churchyard at The Middle Church, in the heart of Jeremy Taylor country, the oldest headstone dates to the late 17th century. It is a place hallowed by prayer and memories over those centuries. Walking around it on a Summer's day is an opportunity to enjoy the sanctified quietness, the rich greenery of the trees, the abundant birdsong of the season, and the fine views of the surrounding countryside. Late on Summer evenings, the sun can set spectacularly behind the Sperrin mountains in the distance.

Perhaps Blythe is not entirely correct. It is so not strange that a churchyard, a place where mortal remains are laid to rest amidst prayer, should be a restful place on Summer days.

The conclusion of a Christian day. The still-fierce sun drains the light from the altar candles. They waver, pale and milky. The heavy presence of summer flowers ... Some 30 of us sing evensong: 'Lighten our darkness, we beseech thee, O Lord'.

The Summer solstice is now behind us, but the long evenings continue throughout July and will linger into late August. Autumn days seem far off. I enjoy occasionally sitting in a congregation on such Sunday evenings, for said Evensong with hymns. Choral Evensong from September until March ends in twilight or darkness. Evening Prayer feels quite different during these Sunday evenings of Summer. It captures something of the change of seasons. Our darkness is indeed lightened during these Summer evenings, when Evensong ends in warmth, blue skies, and bright sunshine. It is an anticipation of, in the words of C.S. Lewis, "those 'high mid-summer pomps' in which our leader, the Son of Man, already dwells, and to which He is calling us".

I trust that readers will have a peaceful, refreshing, restful Summer.

After pausing for a Summer break, laudable Practice will return on 5th August.

(The photograph is of The Middle Church, in the heart of Jeremy Taylor country, Summer 2024.)