This rather short day on The English Way allowed us some extra time to explore and rest at The Hospital of St. Cross which is directly on the path. It was a remarkable visit and our time there was a real gift. Thank you to the Brothers and Father Dominic for spending time with us.
Approaching St. Cross on the Camino Ingles
Our walk out of Winchester was made with the promise to come back the after we finished our Camino to spend a day in the cathedral. But there was so much more about this big medieval town built on the River Itchen that deserved more than a day to explore. Keeping in view St Catherine's Hill across the river on this damp morning we followed the path around a big bend through luxurious water meadows straight into the garden wall of St. Cross. So in we went, not suspecting it would be a few hours before we emerged.
St. Catherine's Hill, hilltop fort and medieval site
We found the gates swung open to receive visitors as Sunday morning mass had just concluded for the parish of St. Faith that has gathered here for over 500 years. This great almshouse, church, and community of hospitality was built under the care of Bishop of Winchester Bishop Henry of Blois, whose mother was the youngest daughter, Adela, of William the Conqueror. In the 1130s the walls began to rise for the church with its surrounding cloister walk and almshouse. Henry dedicated his charitable institution to St. Cross and it served the practical purpose of helping men and women in financial or physical difficulty. "For the hospital of Christ's poor," wrote Henry, "newly founded outside the city walls of Winchester, for the good of the soul."
Pilgrims blessing at the One-Hundred Menne Hall
At risk of sounding a little "woo-woo" I'd like to say that there were several layers of spirit hovering around us as we explored the grounds and the church, not as in 'spirits' but in-the-spirit of a profound sense of love and care. It was almost overwhelming. Like a giant hug. It permeated the stones of the church and as a fan of stone masonry and its technical history I could as easily feel the care of each stone having been cut, dressed, set into place. Way back when I thought I wanted to be a traditional stone mason and worked a summer with an area mason, I learned to see stone in ways that indicated not just the craftsmanship, but with a feel for the care of work. The whole place seemed to shimmer with this kind of care.
Cloister and Church of St. Cross
Masters Hall and Brothers Quarters
I am, admittedly, a church-crawler which in the States is kind of an odd thing to do with your free time, but here in the UK I felt like my little hobby is better appreciated. There are a number of excellent blogs I follow to learn more about ancient churches in the UK and some of what I learn I can place into context here in the States, from the traditions of stone masons to the importance of the craftspeople and their role in maintaining a church as a living space. Paul Timlett's recent post on church-crawling made me grin ear-to-ear as I tried to find ways to describe my experience in the Church of St. Cross. Old churches are best though of as living spaces where even in their disuse, there are vibrant living stories to be told. In their best dress, they are full of color and plays of light. In their forgotten places, they just need our patient love to be reimagined.
"Here, let's do this..."
Lying back in a pew to stare
In many older churches, especially before the Reformation, vibrant wall paintings would have covered their interiors. Architectural details would have been painted in lively decoration. We certainly had seen hints of this in our church visits on the way thus far. But as I looked into every nook and cranny of the St Cross Church, my attention was drawn to all the ways people over the centuries have left their marks - in stone, light, tile, tapestry, and wood. The vaulted ceilings with their arches and columns seemed to still reverberate with the morning's mass music if not the sounds of the human voice raised in song for hundreds of years. As I touched lightly the brilliantly beautiful handmade clay tiles, I heard a brother coming up behind me to turn on the lights. "Here," he said, "Let's do this....." and wowwww. Truly, I felt the church itself was alive - almost (woo-woo alert) humming with people over the centuries at their work of decorating and caring for it and each other. Well, the brother who switched on the lights was also humming.
A worn threshold
As transient pilgrims we often don't get to stay long enough to see the life of a church unfold but on this walk we have in some small ways witnessed church communities, whether religious or social within ancient walls to live very modern lives. Since we began our journey in Caversham and Reading, some sixty miles ago, and because we've perfected the art of lingering, we'd been invited to share in a final goodbye, to join lunch with a new parishioner meeting that was underway (we were privy to some heartfelt concerns about faith), to attend a Sunday mass, and now to hear about the thriving community of St Faith at St Cross. Mathew the humming brother was excited to welcome his first pilgrims from the States. He lingered with us and explained how the tradition of caring for the area's poor is not just a centuries' old mission of their predecessors but an active calling today. Brother Mathew was one of twenty-five brothers living at St Cross who, along with the farmer and his family, and the porter and his family, make up this beautiful community of care.
On the Camino de Santiago!
Enjoying being on the dole!
At the Porter's House we were offered the pilgrims dole, a few slices of bread and two cups of hard cider made on the grounds. Brother Mathew explained the difference between the red-robed and black-robed brothers and how they participate in the spiritual life of the community of St Faith. They attend all the weddings, all the baptisms (there are a lot!), all the funerals. They share a fine choir. They, along with the parish of St Faith help host a number of annual events like the hugely popular Spring Fete and annual Knight's Festival, with jousting of course! The Hundred Men Hall is still an active kitchens and serves hearty midday meals daily. People were strolling the gardens, sitting to sketch, share conversations. Elder unmarried brothers gathered at the Porters Lodge to give their congratulations to the married brother farmer on the birth of his new baby boy that morning in Winchester. Molly received her scallop shell with the Cross of St James. Everything was celebration. Everything was love.
Leaving St Cross
For hours we immersed ourselves in the community of St Cross and St Faith. I wished we could have stayed longer but with light starting to fade and a few miles left to go to Eastleigh for the night, we met with Father Dominic who wished us Buen Camino at the gate and gave us a pilgrims blessing. With Brother Mathew in his long black robe waving goodbye from the Porter's gate inside, we continued back down the path that linked us to the Camino Ingles and the way south. Past gentle cattle, still part of the milking tradition at St Cross under the care of the brother farmer and land manager, Mike. We were embraced in thriving chalk stream landscape, one of the rarest habitats found on Earth (and most of that in South England). Walking away I felt immense gratitude for our visit.
Molly, Father Dominic, and me
Milk cows have a special place in the story of St Cross
Notes:
John Crook (2011) The Hospital of St Cross and the Almshouse of Noble Poverty. http://www.john-crook.com/
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