• Saturday, August 8. Depart Philadelphia for Manchester, UK.
  
• Sunday, August 9. Visit to Fountains Abbey before continuing to Durham.
  
• Monday, August 10. Tour of Durham Cathedral and Durham town. Evensong
  
• Tuesday, August 11. Visit Hadrian's Wall. Evensong
  
• Wednesday, August 12. Tour of Lindisfarne (Holy Isle). Evensong
  
• Thursday, August 13. Visit York Minster or Edinburgh.
  
• Friday, August 14. Visit Alnwick Castle. Evensong
  
• Saturday, August 15. Free day in Durham. Sung Eucharist
  
• Sunday, August 16. Matins, Sung Eucharist, and Evensong
  
• Monday, August 17. Depart Durham to return home.
  

As choir members and parishioners prepare to spend a week at Durham Cathedral in August, many of us are learning more about the rich heritage of the Celtic missionaries to England after 600 A.D. In 635, the Irish monk Aidan began a monastic community at Lindisfarne, an island off the East coast of Britain. A young shepherd, Cuthbert, was inspired by stories of Aidan to begin a religious life, eventually founding a monastery at Ripon and becoming Bishop of Lindisfarne. Cuthbert was first buried at Lindisfarne, where his tomb became celebrated for miracles, then was moved to the present site of Durham cathedral to escape Viking raiders. To this day, St. "Cutty" is a beloved figure in Northumbria and Durham, and his chapel and tomb at Durham Cathedral is visited by local residents.

We hope many parishioners will share in our pilgrimage through their own prayers and readings. Bede’s Life of Cuthbert is included in many anthologies as well as the Penguin paperback Lives of the Saints. I also recommend a fine introduction to Celtic spirituality in Celtic Prayers from Iona, which sets forth daily prayers and readings from the Iona community. Esther de Waal’s God under my Roof (Paraclete, 2006) is another helpful collection of Celtic songs and blessings.

It will be a great privilege to be part of the cathedral community for a week, and to share in their mission to the world. We will have a huge responsibility to ensure that all of our music unites with the liturgy to connect with those who come in need, with those seeking the possibilities of God. That being said, we also plan to have a veddy, veddy good time!

“Cactus seven thirty-four, position and hold.”

“Position and hold, Cactus seven thirty-four.”

Our plane, an Airbus A330-300 with 293 seats, will slowly pull out onto the runway, the flight crew in the cockpit finalizing the take-off checklist. Those of us with less of a forward view, who are starting this pilgrimage, this journey, to a distant land, will wait, expectantly. Some will peer through their windows at the twinkling lights of Philadelphia International surrounded by black nothingness; some will put their heads back and continue their pursuit of a decent night’s sleep, while others will hold hands tightly in reassurance. And after a period of stillness, ripe with anticipation…

Around the year 1000 AD, a man, probably bearded and imposing, led a band of his people to a place they dubbed Vineland. His name was Leif Ericson, son of Eric the Red, and he had just landed on the coast of Newfoundland. From what we now know of the North Atlantic, it must of have been a treacherous voyage, and his people the heartiest of their day. Leif and his band of about 35 had just become the first Europeans to arrive in North America, the first of many millions upon millions to cross the Atlantic Ocean.

Some call it crossing the pond. In Columbus’s day, it was thought to be the route to the Orient. Or possibly it ended at the great precipice, marking the ends of the earth. The Atlantic once contained the routes of the infamous Triangle Trade, which, while enriching the businessmen and leaders of Europe, brought slavery to our shores. The Atlantic has been the site of great tragedy, as on a cold April evening in 1912, when RMS Titanic struck an iceberg and sank in a short two hours, forty minutes. It has been the sight of great courage and triumph, as when the Pilgrims, looking for only the freedom to worship as they saw fit, landed in present-day Massachusetts. Twice during the first half of last century, German u-boats prowled the sea-lanes, searching out would-be victims and turning the ocean into a great battlefield. The Atlantic has also been, and still is, the setting of much enjoyment, fun and pleasure, whether on cruise ships or at the beach.

People have crossed this ocean for a plethora of reasons. Columbus and Hudson were explorers, leaving their mark even to this day. Many people came for riches and opportunity, or to start fresh in a new land. Immigrants by the millions flooded through Ellis Island until January 12, 1954. Descendants of those travelers made the crossing back to Europe, some never to return, to play their part in the definitive struggles of the 20th century.

In that momentous century, the ocean liner gave way to the airplane as the primary means of transatlantic transport. Charles Lindbergh, while not the first to cross the Atlantic in an airplane, was the first to do it alone and nonstop in a single engine aircraft. The great Atlantic had been conquered yet again, this time by an airplane. In the following years, Boeing 314 flying boats would connect Europe, Pan Am’s flight from Baltimore to Ireland lasting a mere 29 hours. During World War II, aircraft after aircraft was ferried across the North Atlantic, a journey some considered as hazardous as a mission over Nazi-held Europe. Thirty years later, Concorde arrives and brings a whole new meaning to crossing the pond. Compared to other transatlantic flights, the short 3 hour flight from New York to London was truly a hop, skip, and a jump. In 500 years, this journey, which had taken a month, was reduced to barely enough time in which to watch a Harry Potter movie.

Over the ages, this crossing has been made for many, many reasons. In a matter of days, we, of St. Peter’s, a church founded by those who had made such a crossing, will embark on our own crossing of the Atlantic Ocean. It will mean something different to each of us. For some, a needed vacation and escape, for others, a spiritual recharge and re-centering, and for some, this trip is yet one more way in which to live life to the fullest. In a matter of days, one warm evening in August…

“Cactus seven thirty-four, winds calm, runway two-seven left, cleared for take-off.”

“Cleared for take-off, two-seven left, Cactus seven thirty-four.”

With that, the landing lights will come on, and we in the back will hear the engines begin to spool up as the pilot pushes the throttles forward. Feet on the rudder pedals, hand on the stick, the pilot will release the brakes. Faster and faster, with a great roar, we’ll roll down the two-mile long runway. As the speed climbs, the pilot will gently pull back on the stick, rotating our nose off the runway. Our wings, flexing upwards, will claw into the warm, damp, summer air, and the main gears will leave the runway. With that, as the gears and flaps are retracted, and the pilots contact Philadelphia Departure, we will begin a ten day journey. It will be fun, educational, romantic, and inspiring, with lots of hard work and singing awaiting the choir; but, above all, it will be something none of us will ever forget.

So much for the expression, ”Always keep your head up.” In England, if you keep your head up too much, you’ll trip on the cobblestones as many of us have found. And you’ll also miss the church floor which would be a great pity. On Sunday, only a few hours after landing in Manchester, we saw an ancient church floor at Fountains Abbey. The choir stood on a stone platform in the Abbey ruins and sang the Our Father from memory to a few assorted visitors and the nearby wildlife.

Most of us who are traveling to Durham have seen pictures of the Cathedral’s floor. It is beautiful, complex, sturdy. It is a work of art in itself. On Wednesday, the choir will have the opportunity to sing our own Dan Shapiro’s piece - written for this occasion - called "The Church Floore." Taken from a George Herbert poem, it describes the pattern of the church “floore” as a metaphor for patience and humility. We will no doubt look at church floors differently hereafter and we thank Dan for his beautiful and memorable setting.

THE CHURCH-FLOORE

MARK you the floore ? that square and speckled stone,
      Which looks so firm and strong, Is Patience :

And th’ other black and grave, wherewith each one
      Is checker’d all along,
             Humilitie :

For all the words to George Herbert’s poem, see
http://www.luminarium.org/sevenlit/herbert/churchfloor.htm.

If you’d like to see this historic floor go to
Durham Cathedral Quire.

After breakfast we headed up the hill (and I mean hill) for our first glimpse of Durham Cathedral. As we crossed the old bridge high above the River Wear and climbed the cobblestone streets, I began to feel the part of pilgrim and thought of the thousands before me who climbed to visit this holy place.

Once inside, we were given a lovely tour by David, one of the Cathedral guides. One of the first stories we heard was the story of St. Cuthbert, to whom the Cathedral was built as a shrine. Cuthbert was a leader of the early Christian Church in Northern England. He lived in the Lindisfarne Monastery on Holy Island (about 100 miles north of Durham). He died in A.D. 687 and was buried on Lindisfarne. Eleven years later, his body was exhumed and was found to be miraculously completely preserved. As word spread, pilgrims came flocking to the island in growing numbers.

When the Vikings raided Lindisfarne in A.D. 875, the monks fled with Cuthbert's body and roamed around with the body for 120 years before settling in Durham. Our wonderful tour arranger and guide Clive likened it to a rather extended rock 'n' roll tour. We also heard a story about how the monks came to settle in Durham. According to this tale, Cuthbert had expressed a desire to be buried in Durham, but the monks could not find it. They thought they were nearby when they came across a crying milkmaid. When they inquired of her as to why she was crying, she said that she had lost her Durham cow. It was then they knew they were in the right place. Then, the story goes, the wheels of the cart which was carrying Cuthbert's body suddenly would no longer move. So that's where they buried him, and the Cathedral was built around his tomb. It was with all that history around us that we made our Evensong debut, seated in the Quire with friends, family, and other pilgrims. "Opening night" jitters and concentrating on standing and kneeling at the right time prevented me from fully experiencing the extraordinary honor of singing in this holy place. However, this is only the beginning. God is with me.

For the "groupies" the afternoon was taken up with walking, shopping, sightseeing or resting around the Three Tuns Hotel. Apparently, Andrew and Rachel Field and Liam Reid even went on a guided tour of an old deserted coal mine.

At 5:15 PM we gathered in the cathedral for the day’s high point – the celebration of the foundation of the cathedral in 1093 and our second Evensong. Some of us who aren’t singing took the opportunity to sit in the nave of the cathedral for this service to experience the difference in sound quality between the "quire" and the nave. The service was beautiful and the choir sounded heavenly. From the nave we could appreciate the effect that the soaring ceiling, stone columns and quire screen have on the choir’s sound and it is amazing to hear how the voices fill the huge space. Sitting in the quire alongside the choir gives a much more intimate, but equally beautiful, sound. Many compliments were offered by others attending the service, including one of the cathedral guides. The choir definitely hit another "home run" and Bruce rocked the place with the organ voluntary at the end of the service!

After Evensong, much of the choir and many of the "groupies" climbed the 325 steps to the top of the Cathedral's tower, where they were rewarded with spectacular views in every direction. Those who elected to save their knees had a special, unforeseen treat: a tour of the prison cell where unruly monks were sent for punishment!

At 7 PM the whole group gathered for a toast to Peggy Oneil and an excellent dinner in the hotel. We learned during dinner that this was not only the 916th anniversary of Durham Cathedral but also the 47th anniversary of Martha and Dodge Johnson’s wedding! All in all, a great day.

It's Wednesday, and we're heading north to Lindisfarne to commune with the spirits of St. Aidan and St. Cuthbert. First, to dispense with some history: St. Aidan made his way to Lidisfarne in 633 AD from St. Columba's care in Iona. He founded his Irish-style monastery in 635 AD. St. Cuthbert made his way to Lindisfarne about 665 AD and ran the monastery for 10 years. After his 10 years' time, he was asked by church and king to become a bishop. He reluctantly accepted and left his island home.

Taking heed of the Durham clergy's warnings, we checked the tide charts to be sure that our "coach" would make it across the causeway from the mainland to the island. Apparently, a few cars-full of people are caught each year by the rising tides and are forced to take refuge in treehouse-like structures which are constructed as safe houses for the newly-marooned. We arrived just after the causeway became passable and were treated to beautiful vistas of the island and the original pilgrims' path, which is now marked by wooden poles sunk into the mud.

I was immediately struck by the color of the stones used to build the monastery - a beautiful coral pink color. The entire group of us gathered in what was once the kitchen of the monastery, and were led in a prayer by our own rector, Anne Bridgers. We then sang the hymntune "St. Columba," which has a text based on Psalm 23. It seems that, similar to our impromptu singing engagement in the ruins of the Fountains Abbey church, we attracted quite a crowd!

Some of our group crossed the slippery rocks - newly revealed by the tides - to Cuthberts Isle. It would seem that St. Cuthbert, while the leader of the monks on Lindisfarne, moved his primary living quarters away from the group to a slightly more remote (and very small) island just off the coast of Lindisfarne. As Kelly and I were standing looking out over the water to the small patch of land on this beautiful, breezy, 65-degree day, I tried to imagine living on this island 1300+ years ago in February - the conditions must have been absolutely brutal.

After a quick lunch and some shopping on the island (the Mead is, indeed, quite good), we boarded the bus for the 2 hour ride back to Durham for Evensong (an evening of Purcell). Most of us napped on the ride after a sunny, beautiful day filled with spirituality and sea air.

According to Rick Steve's England, York Minster is the largest Gothic church north of the Alps, and because of the glorious stained glass windows, shows that the Middle Ages were far from dark. The word "minster" means a place from which people go out to minister or spread the Word of God. Because it's the seat of a bishop, it's also a cathedral.

The first Viking conqueror of York was named "Ivar the Boneless," yes, so we were told by our tour guides, Clive and Ann. This was after the Romans left the York area. (Just a comic piece of history...)

We trekked into the cathedral and eagerly followed and listened to our York Minster tour guide. Truly the building itself is massive compared to Durham Cathedral. The stained glass windows are amazing, especially when one finds that most of them were made in medieval times! Some of us ventured to a traditional Betty's Tea Room for a midday break, and it was a tasty break at that!

Many of us experienced walking the city wall which surrounded the original York Minster land. Beautiful English gardens, tea room backyards, and various views of York Minster can be seen while walking this wall. The wall had a moat surrounding it on its outer side. It was used to defend its citizens back in medieval times; soldiers would shoot arrows at invaders from various vantage points.

This has been a "day off" from our choral responsibilities. This pilgrim has been totally in awe during our Evensong services. Every service so far, I've experienced goosebumps, and more than one have gotten a tad choked up - thankfully not when we've had to sing. We've all experienced a feeling of "one-ness" or "being in the zone" while singing, and it feels as if we are a part of something much larger than St. Peter's Choir in Durham. God is with us, and we are truly blessed! Amen.

While most of our group spent Thursday visiting the Minster in York, a small but hardy flock headed north across the border to the wilds of Scotland, specifically Edinburgh. I had spent my senior year of college at the University of Edinburgh and had longed to quick visit the old haunts. First we were eight, then six, then eigth, then six. Linda Holden, Jamie McArdle, Don Cheetam, MaryLee and Doug Slemmer, along with Brian Curtis, and Angi Price also thought it sounded like a good idea, and so the plans were made. Unfortunately, we lost Angi and Brian before leaving Durham, but Gail and John joined us later in Edinburgh.

We arrived in the old city around 9:30 a.m. after a lovely and comfortable train ride along the northeastern coast. (We could even see Lindesfarne to the east.) We were greeted with the pungent aroma of the whiskey breweries. Some things never change!

Edinburgh was alive with activity all around and along the Royal Mile (High Street) between the castle and Holyrood Palace. The city was abuzz with street artists, musicians, and barkers for performances in the Fringe - three days of theatre, comedy, music, and other cutting-edge performances preceding the world-reknowned Edinburgh Festival. There was even a performance going on in the back room of the pub where Kate and Linda had lunch. Splitting up, half took a sightseeing bus to get an overview, while the rest of us headed for the castle on foot. Amongst the lot of us we variously visited the castle, St. Giles Cathedral (I recalled singing a passion there, complete with choir robes resembling Dracula's cape!), Princes Street, Haymarket, Holyrood Palace (where the royal family stays when visiting Edinburgh), and the Scottish Parliament (a dramatically modern building facing Holyrood Palace). What did we ever do without cellphones?! Gail and John called us to say they had arrived, and before long they joined Linda and me on a tour of Holyrood Palace (complete with the stories of intrigue concerning Mary, Queen of Scots and Lord Darlington).

Jamie, Don, and Doug (in a kilt) headed up the steep climb along the Salisbury Crags to Arthur's Seat. These are the rocky cliffs (apparently an extinct volcano) overlooking Edinburgh. Again, thanks to cellphones, I caught up with them at the top. But wait! I was not alone, for joining me was Peggy Oneill, who "posed" for a photo (that's the Firth of Forth behind her).

After descending by various paths, we reunited to say "Adieu" to Gail and John. We then wound our way over to the university area to check out my old stomping grounds and the Methodist church where I sang in the choir.

Dinner at a local pub, some shopping, and entertainment by the living street artists gave us just enough time for sticky toffee pudding with butterscotch sauce (the current rage), before boarding the 9:00 PM train back to Durham.

The years have brought new buildings now juxtaposed with the familiar and ancient landmarks. The energy of young, creative artists on the steps and doorsills touched by John Knox and perhaps, Mary, Queen of Scots, and all overlooked by the cliffs of Salisbury Crags, tug at me - an invitation to return for a longer stay.

So please do scroll down over the next couple of days to see what might have been delayed in posting. I've included a picture of Durham by night, and I've stuck a few pictures of Edinburgh in this posting to whet your whistles!

The lavish staterooms house an astonishing collection of art, from Cannaletto and Titian to Turner, as well as priceless period furniture, carpets, china, and silver. The 20-foot high walls are covered in silk damask with a frieze of hundred-year-old oil on canvas just below the ceiling. If the staterooms are a bit rich for your tastes, their is always the Quiddich pitch outside. We were all disappointed to find that they do not carry the Nimbus 2000 in the gift shop.

We are having a typical English summer day, complete with the required rain, not that the natives seem to mind. They still sit outside at picnic tables under umbrellas to eat their cheddar and pickle sandwiches.

It's now 3:30 and we are all ready to face the up-hill trek to the Cathedral to sing Evensong. Tonight we perform the Howells "Magnificat" and "Nunc Dimittis." The real treasure, however, is our own Dan Shapiro's "The Church Floore." To hear tonight's performance of Dan's new work, please click on The Church Floore.

Bruce sat at the piano in the middle of the room and Martha stood beside him, with two rows of singers on each side. We rehearsed music for Saturday Holy Eucharist (Feast of the Blessed Virgin Mary), Sunday Matins, Sunday Eucharist, and Sunday Evensong. The big push is upon us. Each service is unique, with its own service music and a new order of service to be mastered.

After working on our music, we marched down the winding stone steps from the Song School to find Trevor, a verger, in the Chapter House. The Chapter House is a large room with a blind arcade carved into the stone walls and a high, vaulted ceiling above. It's where we robe. (A pretty elegant changing room.) Trevor is a gentle giant of a man and we've come to love him. He is the verger who looks after us most often. (A couple of days ago, he encouraged some of us to climb down into a tiny stone cell meant to punish wayward monks and then he turned the light out. But we forgave him.) Trevor carries a big stick he calls his "cattle prod." It is the verger's traditional tool and was used in the Middle Ages to usher merchants and assorted beasts out of the busy cathedral nave.

Today Trevor put us through our paces, leading us through "practice processions" for each of the four services we will celebrate this weekend. The procession into the cathedral for the Sunday Eucharist will take us through the monks' cloister and into the nave, where we will sing the first hymn as we march up the center aisle.

The cathedral is an astonishingly beautiful place and becoming a part of its life and work has been extraordinary.

- with input from Molly Kulp, Brian Curtis, and Lori Wren

Each service had a different procession through different parts of the cathedral - no one got lost but it was a puzzle each time whether we would end up in the right place. God was with us, however. What a pleasure to hear a sermon spoken so precisely! The sound system in the cathedral is magnificent - you can hear what is being said virtually everywhere.

It is difficult to believe these are our last services. They have become our bread to us - we have been fed all week by the magnificent services and wonderful daytrips. God be with us all till the next choir pilgrimage!

Links

• Durham Cathedral
• Fountains Abbey
• Lindisfarne
• Alnwick Castle
• Hadrian's Wall