St Andrew's Church, Dacre

St Andrew's Church at Dacre in Cumberland was especially peaceful when I called; the birds sang, the breeze gently shook the trees and the sunshine bathed the scene in a wonderful warm glow. Yet the church also had a sense of conflict and disturbance about it, despite, or because of, its lengthy heritage. Dating back to the twelfth century, but on a site occupied by a previous, Saxon church, it contained several ancient cross shafts depicting humans battling beasts.

A fourteenth-century knight was carved in stone and resting on the floor; his fighting days were over but his martial spirit remained.

An early nineteenth century woman weeps away her grief on a white memorial, and in the grounds lay the remains of Viscount Willie Whitelaw, Mrs Thatcher’s Home Secretary, whose in-tray included various IRA atrocities, the Iranian Embassy siege and various early-eighties inner city riots.

Yet the church was silent, only the odd bar of birdsong permeating the stone walls and dull panes.

A church may not always be a place of peace and calm repose; unsettled scores and unabsolved crimes remain -seething, waiting, restless and draining. Yet we live in hope that the Prince of Peace will come again or call us home, where He shall wipe every tear from our eye and bestow the bliss and rest for whch we have yearned. It is not the local church or wider church which gives us rest, but Jesus Himself. 

Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Matthew 11:28

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