The Experience of Holy Cross, Eastleigh,
St Swithun Wells, Fair Oak
and St Edward the Confessor, Chandlers Ford
as their parishes come together.

This is not so much a talk as a story - the story of a community that I love passionately, that of Holy Cross, Eastleigh - but I begin with the story of something that happened a few weeks ago.

The father of one of my close friends is terminally ill with cancer of the pancreas. A devout Catholic, he longed to go to Mass but did not feel well enough and, being badly jaundiced at the time, was concerned about how others might react - and was also a bit worried about being overwhelmed by the people who would undoubtedly want to come and express their love and sadness about what was happening to him and his family. It was only after he had expressed his yearning for Mass several times that the idea of a Mass in his home was suggested. Our parish priest agreed more than willingly and so, one afternoon, at 4 o'clock, we gathered in the family's front room for Mass.

It was a privilege to be there. During the course of the Eucharistic Prayer it became powerfully evident that we were being drawn into the Passion and Death of Jesus... we are not yet at the Resurrection stage... The Presence of our Risen and healing Lord was very strong as in the Eucharist  He took Sylve's fears and pain into his own and we were able to stand alongside him bearing his own particular cross and alongside his wife and daughter as they stood at the foot of it. It was a House Mass that brought great comfort and strength - and a sense of awe "I never dreamed that I would have Mass in my own home..."

Four hundred years ago, another man, born just up the road from where we had gathered, allowed Mass to be said in his own home. It cost him his life. He was St Swithun Wells and he lived in Brambridge - and later in London. He was hanged and his wife died eleven years later in prison. One of the churches in our parish is dedicated to him - as is our parish school.

But I arrived in Eastleigh in the mid-eighties. God was on his last chance as I had attended Mass in many places but had not found anywhere to call "home". Within a very few weeks of arriving in Holy Cross, my feet were well and truly "under the table". I was home. I was vaguely aware that we had another church called St Swithun Wells - somewhere far away - in the countryside - well, I knew there were fields around it... It is actually about 2 miles away - about 6 bus-stops depending on the route! But my mind-set was that I had found my home church and that was absolutely enough.

This began to change when our then parish priest, Fr Shaun Budden, set up a Liturgy Group and invited me to be part of it. It was there that I met people from the far distant St Swithun Wells' church (2 miles and 6 bus-stops) and my comfort zone of "my secure home community" began to be prised open as we started to discern how we could develop the liturgy for the two communities. It became clear that, although aiming for the highest possible standard of liturgy in terms of settings, music and reading in both churches, how that would happen in each would be different.

The churches are very different architecturally - the age-range of those gathering to worship was also different ... All sorts of factors came into play and we began to acknowledge the challenge of trying to do the same thing but in different ways according to the nature of the worshiping community.

Several years later, Fr Shaun moved on to Bitterne and Fr Paul Beaumont came to the parish. He brought with him different gifts and the parish began to mould itself around a new pastor. He was widely-read, with a deep knowledge of theology and often ahead of his time: though his ideas sometimes needed interpreting to allow them to bear fruit.

One of his ideas was to develop Neighbourhood Groups - people meeting to share their faith in small groups in their local area. Bishop Crispian experienced these Groups when he made a visitation in 1996. Rather than the conventional meeting with PPCs and saying Mass, the Bishop was invited to go to the Neighbourhood Groups, to meet people face-to-face. I was at the first meeting which took place in the front room of a council house on what was then one of our more run-down estates. We need to bear in mind that, for most of the people there, bishops were distant - appearing in a parish once every four or five years. They might have had a chance to kiss his ring but by and large, a bishop was a remote figure - and here was Bishop Crispian sitting in someone's front room.

Conversation did not flow easily! Things felt very stilted and quite uncomfortable until it was time for refreshments. The Neighbourhood Group was taken aback when Bishop Crispian went into Marie's kitchen and proceeded to help with handing out tea and coffee. For one member, a cleaning lady at the Royal Yachting Association, the crowning moment was when the Bishop handed her a cup of tea and said, "Do you take milk, Bernie? Sugar?" He had remembered her name - and given her a cup of tea: of such small things are great memories made. In the touch of the shepherd on one of his flock, the Bishop of Portsmouth became Bernie's Bishop - a person who cared about her.

Sadly, not long afterwards, Fr Paul became very ill and was hospitalised. It was a worrying time but the parish rallied round - and it was, after all, the summer and things could coast for a while.

But they couldn't coast forever. When September came, decisions had to be faced. What was going to happen about First Communion preparation? Confirmation had been booked for the following year - but could the preparation start without the priest being there to say so? What about liturgies? What about...? So many questions.

Fundamentally, did we want Fr Paul to be lying in his hospital bed worrying about the task facing him when he got back? If we allowed things to grind to a halt - would he be able to cope with starting it all up again? Or would the prospect of that actually hinder his recovery?

We had run the programmes for several years... the catechists knew their material... The Pastoral Council and Finance Committees knew how to get things done in the parish ... Did we wait for "Father" to come and tell us what to do and when to do it - or did we behave as the adults we were in every other situation in our lives?

We decided to grow up.

Canon Peter Doyle was on hand to offer advice when needed - and was quietly supportive - allowing people to take the lead but available when needed. So the sacramental preparation sessions began - liturgies continued to be prepared - weddings were celebrated - parish life continued.

Parish life continued and Fr Paul was eventually well enough to return to the parish - though still far from well. And though he was proud that he had helped to create an atmosphere where the parish could just "get on", there may have also been a question: "If they can manage without me - what is my role as priest? Do they need me if they can do all this without me?"

Well, we did and we do. And an example of how much we need our priests was given during the early days of Fr Paul's illness. We were lucky in having priests coming to say Mass for us on Sundays but on this particular Sunday, the clock was ticking and no sign of a priest appearing for the 11 o'clock Mass. At 11.15, it became clear that no-one was coming. I suddenly became aware of our MC at my side ... any priest who has ever had James as MC will know what I mean ... a split-second before you realise you need something, he has appeared at your side with it. There may be others like him but we believe he's pretty unique! However, what he was appearing at my side to say was not what I needed! It was to tell me what I'd already realised that the priest was not going to come ("But I phoned and checked on Friday!") closely followed by the "And I think - as you lead Word and Communion during the week - you could do it now..."

I said I'd give it a few more minutes - hoping that a priest would magically appear ... though admit I was not entirely hopeful. As James had said, we couldn't let all those people go home without something... and he was right. So several deep breaths later, I went to the sacristy and  the service began... though it is really scary when you invite 250 people to sit down - and they all do! There's a moment of utter disbelief and sense of "Oh no - now what happens?!"  But the Gospel was a gift: "Come to me all you who labour..." and the liturgy was beautiful.

But, and this was where our need for priests was highlighted. Because we had not expected this, we had not asked a priest to consecrate hosts for us at an earlier Mass and so we had to break up those we had. The pieces got smaller and smaller and, though I'd explained that even the smallest crumb had the fullness of the Sacrament, there was certainly the feeling that we were receiving crumbs - not the whole that we were accustomed to at Mass. People were in no doubt at all that this was not Mass - they knew instinctively that this was very much a second-best - only a shadow of what Mass offers.

Fr Paul never really recovered and the need for the parish to take responsibility for many things in order that he could focus on celebrating the sacraments.

In 2000, he died and we became a parish in mourning. As time passed, and the inter-regnum extended, the questions and rumours began. Would we be getting a priest? What would the priest be like? Would there be major changes?

Eventually, the Bishop appointed Fr Michael Dennehy as parish priest. Though few of us knew him, we were relieved to know we were going to have a priest - and, even better, a young priest! And he needed to be young... It began to seep into our consciousness that Fr Tony Sitti was going back to Thailand. He was serving in the next-door parish of St Edward the Confessor, Chandlers Ford (about the same distance the other way as St Swithun Wells - not sure how many bus stops but one train stop!). We began to allow ourselves to think that the chances were that Fr Tony would not be replaced and that St Edward's was likely to be coming alongside us - being served by Fr Michael.

It rapidly became clear that we could not sustain the number or times of Masses. There was widespread consultation - and people were understandably concerned to keep "their" Mass. We ended up with four Masses - still more than there should be but this was the minimum that allowed at least one Mass in each Mass centre- and two in St Edward's where the Mass count justified it. It is far from ideal. Fr Michael had asked for there to be a 2-hour gap between Mass start times so that he would have time to speak to people and be available to hear of concerns. This happens on Sundays - but could not be made to work on Saturdays where the gap is one-and-a-half hours. It means a lot of travelling and clock-watching.

The situation at Christmas was even more problematic. We had taken Mass counts to help us to make decisions about Mass times... and were rather overwhelmed by the fact that about 2000 people had come to Mass over Christmas the previous year. The largest of our churches can seat 400-450... Fr Michael -the Liturgy Group - and others tussled with what to do.

The answer kept coming back to six Masses - 5 pm. - 7 p.m. - 9 p.m. - midnight - 9 a.m. - 11 a.m. Six Masses... one priest.

We considered asking for a "supply priest" but Fr Michael is a profoundly pastoral priest and recognised that Christmas is a time when people who would not normally come to Mass might attend. We acknowledged the importance of a child from the primary school recognising "their" Fr Michael rather than a strange priest ... of his being able to greet briefly the Confirmation candidate who with some trepidation has turned up ... and simply to be able to give and receive Christmas greetings with parishioners...

It had to be six Masses and one priest... And, of course, Christmas Day last year was on a Saturday - so not only did we have six Masses for Christmas we also had the 9 a.m. and 11 a.m. on the Sunday morning ...

Was this reasonable? Was this humane? Was this what we wanted for our priest for Christmas? No, of course not. And what of the servers - musicians - and readers? What effect on their Christmas does attendance at up to three Masses have? It was all unreasonable - but, however hard we tried, we could not come up with an alternative. What will happen next Christmas we do not know.

And the decisions and dilemmas don't end there. There are the irritations - WE have A4 newsletters just printed on both sides - THEY have A5 booklets folded ... and the font is too small! THEY don't play (name any hymn!) at the right speed... that is, the speed WE play it! And so on... And sometimes, the irritations become abrasions as things bore deeply into our souls and begin to be painful. We are tempted to brood on the perceived unfairnesses "Why do they (always) get the new ...?"  and the worries - "are they going to close my church?" and the frustrations - "I can NEVER get a car parking space at that church."

And there are deeper wounds too - that take a lot of time and love to heal. I spoke of the necessity for six Masses at Christmas... but even that entailed the loss of the Midnight Mass at St Edward's. Imagine the sense of loss ... the tradition of a parish's Christmas Midnight Mass - gone ... probably never to return... What effect does that have on a community? In Holy Cross, the loss of the Easter Vigil ... that beautiful Liturgy at the heart of our Faith ... there isn't room for all who wish to come... "Do you think we will ever have the Vigil at Holy Cross again...?" And St Swithun Wells - no Mass at all on Easter Sunday this year because the early morning Mass had not been successful the year before. How sad for a community not to celebrate the Lord's Resurrection...

These are deep wounds which can only be endured in a spirit of sacrificial love - like that of Swithun Wells. His love of the Faith - of God - led him to make the ultimate sacrifice. On that scale, the sacrifices asked of us seem comparatively small - but they are, nonetheless, sacrifices. They hurt - they come at cost.

As St Swithun Wells climbed the scaffold outside his home, did he think that there would one day be churches and schools named after him? Unlikely - yet he offered his loving sacrifice - entrusting the future that no longer belonged to him to God. Could he have imagined that, one day, four hundred years later, his portrait would be watching over "Growing Together in Christ" meetings? Impossible... Brambridge was - and remains - a cluster of houses. The Diocese of Portsmouth did not exist. Eastleigh did not exist... in fact, the only reason Eastleigh exists is because the people in the village of Bishopstoke did not want the railway line and station on their side of the River Itchen! ("Build it somewhere over there"... so they did!).

Sacrificial love does not come easily - but it is at the heart of our Faith ... the Sacrifice of Jesus on the Cross - the sacrifice of St Swithun Wells... it is painful - sometimes agonising - but leads ultimately to joy and to eternal life ... and that is what we are about.

There have been joys in our parishes coming alongside - we have met people with gifts which complement each other. A chance conversation after an overhead projector presentation of the First Reading of the Easter Vigil led to the knowledge that we had a projector in the parish and could have used Powerpoint. Within a fortnight, David had created a moving presentation to celebrate the life of John Paul for the Requiem Mass and Ecumenical Service - and, for the Assembly, the short history and snapshot of the Diocese which formed part of our Opening Liturgy.

We are already beginning to be aware that we will continue to grow. We look towards what comes next.  We have sat with Fr Michael looking at road maps - trying to work out how churches and parishes could be grouped - and the best routes between them. For us, the prospect of being part of a larger pastoral area is actually something to look forward to. We will not be facing logistical problems on our own - not simply seeing how we can get our parish priest from A to B to C and possibly to D and E to say Mass but working with others to find ways to better serve the People of God in our area.

And so there are more changes to come. But having been part of my parish for 18 years - and seen the changes there - a priest moving on - a priest dying - parishes coming alongside with all the tensions that brings ... In the face of all this, I look back over the process of "Growing Together in Christ" and, having been part of the Working Group, seen the responses full of the faith of people and their obvious love for the Mass - for their communities and for the diocese, I am actually filled with great hope. I think that we, as a diocese have an awful lot to look forward to. Not without challenge - but many good things lie ahead waiting for us to find them.

Thinking again of St Swithun Wells living 400 years ago - what would he make of our situation? - with three churches and struggling to work out how to enable 2000 people to attend Mass at Christmas. The chances are, that if he were to look on what has happened to the lives of Catholics in the area he knew so well, his reaction would be one of amazement.

It would be my hope that in 400 years time - or however time works in eternity - we will be able to look down on the places we know and love and be amazed at what the contribution we make in our lifetimes - and especially whatever emerges from "Go Out and Bear Fruit" - makes to the future that does not belong to us but to those chosen to live centuries after us.

Generosity of spirit and a sense of sacrificial love are firm foundations for whatever is to come...