The Day of Saints - Day 11, Be Still

Distant Lights - long after sunset near Land's End.

To keep up with my itinary, I needed to visit numerous sites each day. After Zennor, I moved on to the sister churches of St Buryan and St Leven. Poems about each of these saints will appear in time, but simply to say how interesting it was to see how different churches can 'feel' one from another, even when on the face of it they seem so similar.

I was the only visitor at St Buryan, and took the opportunity to look around in silence and contemplate, though I found it somewhat empty - not physically, but spiritually. Difficult to put my finger on what I mean by that, and I don't want to elaborate, to be honest.

The Font at St Buryan's Church

At St Leven things were very different because there were cream teas being served. I had spent my last pennies on the car park, but the lovely vicar Revd Vanda was very kind and offered me tea and cake. I declined the cake, (I have my figure to think of ;) ), but the tea and conversation was very much appreciated.

St Leven Church, repairs taking place.

Below St Leven Church on the coast path is St Leven's Well and from the rocks just below that I watched a group of surfers in action in Chapel Cove. It is said that when a person is fully absorbed in an activity they can enter a 'flow' state, when there is a sense of stillness, paradoxically, as all becomes focussed. I have heard that surfers can experience that as much as anyone.

Surfers in full 'flow' below in Chapel Cove

Before returning to base camp, I moved on to one more church, (which I will not name, but was not far away). Strangely, as soon as I entered, I felt the strongest sense of the presence of God. It wasn't the decoration, the lighting, the arrangement of seats, but something else, very clear. It was so strongly felt that I had to sit, wait, listen and just be. The sense of presence was so palpable, so close and personal that even praying felt superfluous. I know that will sound very strange, and it is a very hard experience to describe, but if you've been in such a place (spiritually, not just physically), you'll know what I mean. In time, I knelt at the communion rail and prayed a prayer of surrender to God. Moments like these, so intense, so real, are not common for me, or perhaps for many people, but when they come, we must treasure them. "Be still and know that I am God." (Psalm 46:10)

A snail on a gracestone just 'be-ing' outside the 'other' church