Northeast heaven

From Durham I wound my way up past Newcastle (or rather, skirted around it to find a bridge over the Tyne that wasn't given over to a busy major road) and ended up in Bedlington, not far from Morpeth. It's not, to my knowledge, a pilgrimage site or place of historic Christian significance. But it is where my Dad and his wife Maureen live, which seemed an excellent reason to visit. 

I spent a couple of nights with them, eating good food and swapping stories; it was great to catch up in person.

During the day on Friday they offered the chance to make a trip over to Hexham and visit the Abbey. I knew nothing about the place except that the verger in Lincoln Cathedral had said it was a must-see, but that was recommendation enough. 

Well, honestly, here's my take. If you're in the northeast and have to choose between Durham and Hexham, choose Hexham. 

I can't begin to tell you all the wonderful things in the Abbey: the 80 odd medieval painted panels, the misericords, the night stairs, the Frith Stool (want to know what it is? Go see!), the amazing crypt built from Roman decorated stonework that once housed relics of St Andrew ... and so much more. 

But beyond all that, it was a superb place for a pilgrim to pray - which is, at the end, kind of the point of a church. They had an installation similar to Durham, this time of 6,000 paper stars suspended over the choir, beautifully lit, accompanied by gentle, meditative music. I sat and prayed in that ancient choir for, well, I don't know how long. I'd happily have stayed there all day. 

I was enchanted. Before I left I jokingly asked one of the volunteers whether they happened to have a fed-up vicar who'd been there forever and might be thinking of leaving ... apparently the current priest is fairly new and quite happy. I'm glad. I hope he or she has a long, fruitful, joyous ministry in that God-filled place. 

///feast.fans.fruits