I walked to Grantchester for church this AM, stopping first at The Orchard – a famous outdoor gathering for tea. Everybody who’s spent much time at Cambridge in the last 150 years has been to The Orchard – e.g., Bertrand Russell (philosopher), Sir Edmund Mallory (Mt. Everest), Crick and Watson (the double helix) Stephen Hawking, Prince Charles, Salman Rushdie, Virginia Woolf, EM Forster, John Cleese (Monty Python), et al. I hope having a scone with clotted cream doesn’t disqualify me from speaking on gluttony next fall. (Though it probably should. I don’t want to know what clotted cream does to your cholesterol count).
Church was, hmm, I’m not sure what to say. I arrived early, was identified as a guest and introduced to the Vicar. When he found out I was a pastor he asked me to assist with the service. I tried to beg off, claiming very little experience with the Church of England liturgy. He said, “I am extending this invitation in the spirit of ecumenical charity, and besides, I need help.” So, I assisted with communion. And there were 17 of us in attendance. The Vicar is likely in his 70s. That makes him younger than almost everyone there. The Church of England has a problem. (I stuck my head into Little St. Mary’s Evensong. There were six people officiating and five in the congregation.) Ugh.
After church I sat and read in the park next to the hotel. It was a gorgeous day. Hundreds were out, “punting” and picnicking. I fly home in the AM.