This is a story of a virtual pilgrimage, and sowing the seeds of the real one.

During the lockdown of early 2021 we were all, of necessity, spending a lot of time in our homes. As I pondered the tumultuous year that had been 2020 I found myself on the Ordnance Survey website looking at some of the places where we had walked during the summer. I love maps. I value my Ordnance Survey (OS) subscription!

I found myself, with podcasts playing in my zoom-seasoned headphones, scanning the map of the country that I have come to call home. I “visited” Land’s End – the most Westerly point of Great Britain – and I began to ponder. How do people do that famous “LEJOG” walk, from Land’s End to John O’ Groats. What paths do they take? What does it look like?

On the OS maps you can zoom right in. You can find the public rights-of-way; the green-dotted lines that give us the right to walk across fields and forests and back alleys and carparks of industrial sites. The satellite imagery lets you know if it’s paved or gravel or overgrown-tangle-of-nettles-and-brambles. You can see when the way is blocked by a river, or a motorway, a railway, or an MoD restricted zone. I began to plot a route, planning my path, imagining the place where feet might tread…

I became lost in it. Even on a screen, it became something of the rhythm of trudge. I’ve done a lot of hiking in my youth. I know what it’s like to be in that zone. It is a place of peace, and of processing pain; it’s a place of simply being on an internal journey while the outside moves on past. This is part of walking-as-pilgrimage, as I understand it: The interior journey and the exterior journey align.

As the lockdown continued, the virtual journey did too. I began to ponder what was moving me. In the end it wasn’t to travel across Britain, it was to travel across England. We’ve had this heart for a while: The Scottish love Scotland, the Welsh love Wales, but who loves England?  As my computer screen took me across moors and meadows, suburbs, cities, and industrial scars, I was beginning to pray for this adopted country of mine. I want to love the place where I put my feet.

Now my virtual pilgrimage had purpose. Lands’ End to Lizard Point takes us to West and South extremes. It would end in Marshall Meadow’s Bay, on the Scottish border in Northumberland. Lowestoft Ness (near where I was born) would take me to the most easterly point, and some of the lowest points in East Anglia. And why not take the route to Scafell Pike, and stand (virtually) speaking on England’s tallest point?

But even with all the cardinal points, so much would still be missed. Praying and loving the scenery I saw (on a screen in a vicarage study in Sheffield), I found myself visiting every Cathedral in the country. It would take a zig zag up the country; two thousand miles of plotted pixels and roads to imagine.

And then it was done. Not in reality; just in my heart, and on an internet site. But what would it take “IRL”, as they say? Google tells me that pilgrims on, say, the camino de Santiago, can average 15 to 20 miles a day. I plotted it out. Averaging 17 miles a day, with a day off every week, a real-life walk, a placing of love-plodding feet, would take 140 odd-days. That’s a sabbatical and a few weeks annual leave! Perhaps one day…

But it got me thinking. It got me pondering my own interior life, as well as my own physicality. I wasn’t sure I could walk five miles, let alone seventeen! I might not be able to walk across the land; but could I even walk across the city to which God has brought me? I love this place; and I’m learning to love it more and more. It has posh green parks, and broken old factories, ancient ruins, and legoland low-rises; and people of every colour shape and sound.

Throughout his year, therefore, I’ve been doing a local pilgrimage; loving the place where I put my feet. It began with “loop walks” from my house. I walked to Meadowhall and back; nine miles and I couldn’t walk for a week! It has ended with long treks to other counties, to return by train; sometimes alone, sometimes with companions, or larger groups.

Each walk – whether four hours long,or eight hours long – has been a journey. Sometimes there’s been a bounce in my step. At other times I look at the horizon to where I’m going and I’m plodding, and hurting, and wondering why I bothered. Leaning into joy, or into pain and weariness; such is life.

And I have seen the place to which God has brought me; nooks and crannies and even some hidden paths that I would never have discovered. I have chatted with a few along the way, and received encounters as God’s invitation.

The routes I have taken form something of a flower-shape; these became my “flower walks” of 2021. And they have been a joy. They’ll continue into 2022, where I’ll continue to love where God has put my feet. Feel free to join me!

And for those who would like to know the detail of where I’ve been….

	FEB 2021 – MEADOWHALL AND BACK Nine miles, and I couldn’t walk afterwards. The five-weirs walk, and then back along the hills. I discovered Wincobank! Iron age history, and a patch of moorland in the midst of Sheffield suburbs.
	MAR 2021 (#1) – WOODHOUSE AND BACK Eleven and a half miles alongside the Parkway before looping down and back along the tram road, finishing with Norfolk Park and through the central city.
	MAR 2021 (#2) – GRENOSIDE AND BACK A tick under ten miles, and feeling stronger. A walk along the Don River and through the suburbs of Parson Cross before farm fields (muddy!) and Beeley Wood and returning through Hillsborough.
	APR 2021 (#1) – PORTER BROOK AND BACK The snow was falling! Ten and a half miles across to Endcliffe and all the way up the Porter Valley and back through the suburbs of Fullwood and Tapton Hill.
	APR 2021 (#2) – CATCLIFFE AND BACK For twelve miles, I was joined by two fellow travellers and a dog! Through Darnall and Tinsley Park, almost to the M1, before coming back through Handsworth, and back along the Parkway. At the turnaround point, it felt like a long way from home.
	MAY 2021 – DUNGWORTH AND BACK Across to Hillsborough and then along the Loxley Valley. The hills and valleys on the way back matched some ups and downs in my interior life. Each hill was a push.
	JUNE 2021 (#1) – BEAUCHIEF AND BACK A loop into South Sheffield, through Nether Edge to Beauchief, across to Graves Park, and back via Heeley. I struggled with foot pain, but the day was a joy, resting in God.
	JUNE 2021 (#2) – SHIREGREEN AND BACK I was joined by my daughter for a loop into North Sheffield, through Fir Vale to Concord Park, and back through the old and new estates of Shiregreen and Longley to Parkwood Springs. This was to bring the “loop walks” to a completion.
	JULY 2021 – AGDEN It was time to go on a journey “with an end” and not loop back. On a hot day, family and friends were going to Agden Reservoir. I joined them, walking through Hillsborough and the edge of Wadsley, and through beautiful farmland to High Bradfield.
	AUGUST 2021 – ROTHERHAM I’d been set back by a dose of covid. I need a walk that was a physical rest. A gentle flat walk along the canal to Rotherham was perfect. This was also the beginning of a new season (post-summer) of integrating physical, emotional, and spiritual health. More on that soon.
	SEPTEMBER 2021 – HATHERSAGE It was time to be stretched; to throw some caution to the wind. I was joined by a dear friend on a journey to Hathersage, through the well-to-do suburbs of South Sheffield and over the peaks, on a gorgeous, spirit-lifting day.
	OCTOBER 2021 (#1) – CHESTERFIELD Another shift in season. It was time to walk to somewhere, not just from Sheffield. I pushed long to Chesterfield, from suburbs to suburbs with farmland in between. Some of the paths were overgrown. This was a solitude walk, a time of retreat.
	OCTOBER 2021 (#2) – BARNSLEY Joined by two good friends, this was an adventure for all of us. Through north Sheffield suburbs and outlying villages, interspersed with fields. This path went alongside the M1 for quite some time
	NOVEMBER 2021 – EDALE Time to walk as community. A group of about a dozen, from all different walk of life, joined me on perfect autumn day, across the peaks, to Edale. This pushed the limits physically. Walking together is slower, but much more enjoyable. Fellowship at its best.
	DECEMBER 2021 – WORKSOP Winter was closing in, and so was my mental health. This was a solitude walk, almost impromptu as the diary cleared along with the weather. A day of retreat and soul searching as I trudged beside still waters.

The pilgrimage will continue in 2022. Nothing forced. Semi-planned but impromptu. With solitude, and togetherness. Loving where we put our feet.

I have learned that the Scottish love Scotland. And the Welsh love Wales.  But do the English love England?

As I’ve shared this observation with my English friends, and as it becomes clear what the final question is going to be, before I even ask it they are shaking their heads with a wry expression,  “No, no we don’t.”

Love? It’s as if it’s a category mistake.  I’m not sure what the prevailing sentiment actually is:  Respect? Concern? Admiration? Affection? Options that have been volunteered to me range from the negative (“We resent our society.”) to the self-deprecating (“We’re a little bit embarassed about England.”) to the faux-humble (“We know we’re good we don’t need to flaunt it.”) to the perplexed (“Well, we don’t know who we are anymore.”)  Of course, support for cricket and rugby teams cannot be questioned, and is a common expression of loyalty. But love? What does that even mean?

As an “outsider” observer I can offer some musings about why this is the case:  Perhaps England as a concept isn’t “local” enough; we can speak of love much more readily for Yorkshire, or Cornwall, or Norfolk!  Perhaps England doesn’t have the experience of shared and common adversity that is present in the history of the other UK countries; there has been very little to knit the country together in it’s own identity. If you’re English, or you know England, I’d love to hear your thoughts and opinions!

The motivation for my thinking about this is missiological and prayerful.  It was sparked by the opportunity Gill and I had recently of spending time in retreat at Ffald-y-brenin in Wales.  As part of the rhythm of prayer there they include a “Caleb prayer for Wales.”  It’s a prayer for mercy and revival:

O High King of Heaven,
Have mercy on our Land.
Revive your Church.
Send the Holy Spirit for the sake of the lost, the least, and the broken.
May your Kingdom come to our nation.
in Jesus’ mighty name.
Amen

Prayed by the Welsh, this prayer is gentle but fervent, and with deep deep roots.  It recalls revivals of the past and yearns and longs for new things in the present.  It imagines life-giving restorative reconnection with God intermingling with the valleys and the hills, the families and the industrial cities.  It looks to “Jesus’ mighty name” as a hope for the lost, the least, and the broken.  It is prayed confidently in acknowledgement of God’s will, because they love their land, and they want God’s best for it.  The prayer reveals a missiological heart.

But if “love for England” is an ungraspable concept, what do we have that can stir us for God’s mission?  What is it that wells up (or could well up) within the English to pray this prayer for their land?  What is the missiological heart for England?

My conclusion is this:  England is and can be loved.  It can be loved with a missiological heart – even those big detached chunks of Southern England that are geographically defined more by their train line to London than their sense of “nationhood,” community, or place.

My prayer for myself, and for the church, is that we would grow in this love.  That we would be more and more moved with the heart of God.  This means to be prayerfully weeping because of the sin we see, and the destructive things we know are hidden away to fester, and the roots of idolatry now writ large in the whole Western world.  It means travailing for lives and communities to be convicted, awakened, and turned towards life-pertaining things.   And above all it means hope – to be trusting in God’s mercy as we dare to believe that the villages and market-towns, the estates and seething throngs of commuters, can somehow encounter and embrace, together, a living experience with a risen Saviour.

Can England be loved? Yes.  But it will take, as they say with a phrase now full of meaning, the “love of the Lord.”

It’s time to announce it:  At the beginning of August I will be taking up the role of Associate in the Parish of St. Nicolas, Newbury, in West Berkshire, in the Diocese of Oxford.  In July, the Briggs Family will be moving to England.

There’s no doubt about it, this is a big move!  In some sense it has come as a surprise.  But mostly it clearly aligns with how God has led us, and is leading us, in ministry, as a family.

Tasmania is our home in many ways, where we have been formed by God, and learned to trust him.  Over the years he has given us a passion for discipleship and for growing church communities that worship God in every part, and so bless the world.  But at the same time as rooting us where we are, he has lifted our eyes.  And that same passion has had us looking, and now moving, to England.  God has called us to the other side of the world.  This is a step of faith, trusting that God will meet us in Newbury, and bless us to be a blessing.

We are looking forward to being part of St. Nic’s as the church acts in the vision of “being good news, and bringing good news.”  We have already visited the parish as part of the appointment process where we discovered a great affection for the church family, and for the town itself.  We are looking forward to putting down new roots and discovering the details of God’s purpose there.

The next few months (weeks really) are all about our family making the transition.  Please be praying for us.  In particular:

• Pray for our children.  Anna (who is now 18yo) will be coming with us, possibly after some gap year travelling.   The other three will be transitioning into a new school system.  We have already visited one of the local schools, and met some of the teachers and are encouraged by what we see.  Please be praying for Samuel, Ethan, and Miriam.
• We are also in the process of applying for Gill’s spouse visa (I am a British Citizen, and so are the children, so we can travel on UK passports).  Please be praying for all the paperwork to go smoothly.
• Please be praying as we dismantle our household goods and either sell them off or pack them up and send them.  There are lots of logistics, and plenty of hidden expenses that we will have to face.

Throughout this whole journey there is one thing that is certain: God is good.  And he is kind to us.  We have never known such blessing and assurance.  We have been aware of his presence and his deep peace.  Where we have had financial needs, he has provided for us through the love of his people.  Where we have faced fears and anxieties, he has blessed us with words of comfort through the love of his people.  We will have more need of such things before this journey is through; but we remain convinced of God’s trustworthiness and that, in the words of Psalm 27, we will see the goodness of the Lord, here and now in the land of the living.