The Saint Barnabas’ Blog

The photograph above was not taken at our match, which was played on a glorious sunny afternoon and not a wet and muddy one! Tunbridge Wells Veterans took on the 3rd XV of the Old Gravesendians and turned them over with aplomb. Whilst the OG’s had some young, fast and effective backs, the TW’s had a large and experienced pack and, in the end, muscle/fat won out. The final score was Tun Wells 34- 12 Old Gravesendians. A really enjoyable afternoon, bring on next Saturday! (I shall be leaving Diocesan Synod early in order to play!)

Where has the time gone? It is now less than five weeks until the birth of baby Tomlinson #2 and what a contrast in atmosphere there is in our house as compared with this stage first time round! Three years ago every baby book known to man was being read, conflicting advice considered, scrapped then reconsidered, equipment was nervously stockpiled (much of which was never used!) and NCT (national childbirth trust) classes were being attended under the strictest of orders. (These proved quite amusing, especially with the simulations of childbirth and the knitted breasts complete with nipples amd mastitis lumps!!!) Every day of the pregnancy was monitored and we parents huddled together in trepidation at what might lie ahead…..such is the lot of first timers!

This time round the days are flying past, barely noticed as Jemima demands our attention, and what equipment we do not possess can be purchased when needed! No courses need attending, though if one existed for Jemima we might consider! She is going to be very upset when she realises that the real baby is not, as she has decided, coverd in pink hair, made of plastic or called Pink-Polly!! But even with these strange prediction, it is certainly much easier expecting a second child, and though I am under no illusions as to how much more challenging life is going to be, there is a calm excitement growing as the big day draws close. Please pray for all children in the womb and for expectant mothers. And prepare to be over fed with baby photographs just as soon as the birth is upon us!

NB: by the way the photograph is not Hayley but one gleaned from the web!

I have not returned to Homerton College much since my first stay at Cambridge ended in 1996. But yesterday evening I did just that in order to celebrate the retirement of Dr. Peter Raby; Head of drama, Vice-Principal of the college, ‘Nigel Haversesque’ charmer and all-round top chap! Peter not only showed great patience in tutoring me during my interesting youth, he also acted as referee when I went forward for the priesthood. He was quite suited to this purpose having trained at Westcott himself before changing direction and heading into life as a University academic.

Joining me were a great throng of contempories from the drama department and the fun that ensued lasted well into the early hours. Great fun but, my goodness, what has happened to the boys?! Hair has vanished, midrifts expanded and wrinkles have appeared. Fortunately the ladies looked charming as ever! The blue, silver and pink tie that you see belongs to ‘The Blaggards’, a gentleman’s drinking society which was open to those who played two cuppas sports. I was initiated in 1993 having played rugby, football and cricket for the college. Not that I was terribly good you understand, there were only a handful of men in the college! The motto of the Blaggards is ‘Cum Dubitas Bibi Fortissime’!

I must say I was staggered by how much Homerton has changed, and for the better. Half the college has been sold off and redeveloped and the money generated has been ploughed into new accomodation blocks, library, bar and kitchens. In addition the college which was solely based around education in my day, comprising 10 women for every man (!!) is now more balanced in both curriculum and intake. For the first ever time there are now more men than women and a whole variety of courses are offered as Homerton establishes itself as a major University College. In my day it always felt a little behind and had the ambiance of being a big girls boarding school! so here is to Homerton College, Dr. Raby and many old friends. I return early in need of a very good sleep before the Sunday services are upon us.

Today was the first official fixture of the season for the Tunbridge Wells Veterans (playing in dark blue, not stripes) and so we duly made our way to Hastings for a fixture against the seasoned old men of that illustrious town. The sun shone brightly which, whilst pleasant, only added to the energy sapping experience- by the end I had nothing left in the locker and am uncertain I shall ever recover fully!

I was in my favoured position of tight head prop and can be spotted wearing the number three shirt. A huge hurrah to the lovely wife of my fellow prop for taking these fantastic snaps from the touchline!

The first half was a reasonably close encounter with both sides scoring in the opening twentty minutes. But, being the first full game after the summer, there was much huffing and puffing and both sides could/should have got to the breakdown a little sooner. I myself was alarmingly out of condition but somehow kept in the game and was especially pleased with the scrums and lineouts which went our way all afternoon.

The second half was a different story, as the Hastings subs were clearly used to playing at a much higher level. It made all the difference and they ran in a hat full of tries in the next thirty minutes before we ended the game with a fine try under the posts. Honestly fancy bringing on quick, fit and strong players- surely that is regarded as cheating in veterans rugby!!!

The final score of 53 -17 did not do the game justice and, regardless of the loss, it was a fine afternoon played in a good spirit. Some good phases of play were grounds on which to build and I very much look forward to next Saturday. It really is fantastic to be back playing and I relished every moment. In the final shot above I am present…but you can only see the bottom of my boots! Now to pour a stiff whiskey…..I ache ALL over!

The annual Guild of All Souls conference, held at Ascot Priory, came to end this afternoon amidst blue skies and glorious sunshine. One again it was a resounding success and presented a fantastic opportunity for learning, collegiality, refreshment and relaxation. As the photograph shows, + Keith & Fr Ursell got things off to a bang yesterday- a welcome reception of champagne and canapés awaiting us in the grounds. It certainly put a smile on Fr Ivan’s face!

A splendid dinner followed which offered an opportunity to chat with fellow guild priests, sharing good practice and bonding together. After morning prayer the main subject at breakfast was the consternation caused because Fr Ursell had neglected to turn on the hot water! Still it gave us a better feel for the ascetic life. We then gathered for the main lecture, Fr Jonathon Baker conversing on the theme of priesthood. His superb lecture was informative, engaging and highly appropriate and helped us to ponder the nature of priesthood, questioning the tension between an ontological and functional approach. This led us to examine in discussion how many of the present troubles within the Anglican communion might stem from a radically different perspective regarding holy orders.

After discussion we moved to the chapel for Mass before a delicious lunch of lasagne and salad. We then gathered again in the common room for a final session, with each priest sharing news from their own personal setting. It was, once again, a well organised and enjoyable 24hrs and I am very grateful to the Guild for their hospitality and pastoral care. And the grounds of Ascot Priory were simply magnificent…

Today saw the end of my premature retirement from rugby as I met up with my new TWRFC team mates for the very first time. The venue was Ashford rugby club in Kent, where a beer & rugby festival was being held to herald the start of the new season.

Two pools of four veteran’s sides played each other, with 7 minute halves each way , the top two from each group progressing to a semi-final. That is as far as we got, narrowly beaten in the semi by a well drilled team whose name I did not register! They lost in the final to an even better drilled and very burly side from Romford.

As you can see the TW vets are a friendly lot and I was both amused and touched that the boys had chosen to dress up in religious garments in order to extend me a warm welcome. I certainly felt at home!

The after match entertainment was first rate, with live music and over thirty different ales for people to sample. Alas I drove today as we have a party in Essex tonight, but most of the others arrived in mini-bus and I am guessing it will be a late night and a fragile morning!

I leave you with a shot to prove I survived. It is great to get back to my rugby and I am really looking forward to playing the season with this very social and welcoming side….that is if I can ever get out of this chair again, ouch I hurt!

Ever since being introduced to the game of rugby, as a 12 year old boy, I have loved it. By the age of 15 I was not only training twice a week and playing on Saturday afternoons with the school team- I was also playing on Sundays for Norwich rugby club…permission given on the strict understanding I went to church in the evenings! (NB: a shrewd move by my parents as this ensured I did not resent the church but grew to love it)

It took less than three minutes for my natural position to be found- having been chosen as number 8, my school master stopped the game with a whistle and some prophetic words ‘Tomlinson swap with Stretton, you are far slower than I thought and quite clearly a prop!’ How right he was, the number 3 shirt has been mine ever since!

When I went to Homerton College I helped form its first ever rugby team (pictured above) and we mounted one of the most sterling cup runs I have known. With only a handful of men to choose from (Homerton was ten women to every man) we were being mocked throughout the University for having bothered to pull a team together at all. But hidden amongst the rag tag army of total amateurs was one Findlay McMillan (a Bristol docker with fists of iron) and Tarquin Bennett-Coles (who had played for London Welsh). We beat Girton and Queens college comfortably before losing by two points to S. John’s (who went on to win). Furthermore every team we encountered that season was rather envious of the huge army of girlies, cheering us on from the sides. Happy days!

I then moved to Colchester to teach and captained the third XV there. We went unbeaten for two seasons before the 1st and 2nd XV clocked onto the fact that the players I was reporting to be ‘mediocre’ at selection meetings, were in fact some of the best at the club! Great days again and, as ever, rugby introduced me to some wonderful people (and a few rogues as well!)

A return to Cambridge for theological training led to my playing for Emmanuel College 1st XV-(pictured above; only real men play in pink!) and over the next three years we rose from the bottom of the third division to finishing second in the first division and winning the cupper’s plate twice. (one of my proudest rugby moments being to score the winning try in the final, from all of two yards out!)

I then moved to Brentwood for my curacy and spent three very happy years playing for the Old Brentwoods, a delightful little club with connections to Brentwood school. The chaps were some of the most pleasant I have played with and I still return on occasion for the odd dinner and social! The team is pictured above when we won a cup tournament (I look exhausted at the rear as there was a distinct lack of props and I had to play three games on the trot!) This team is also pictured at the top of the article, posing in club blazers for the official opening of a new spectator’s stand, which was blessed with much incense and a full serving party. It seemed my dream of playing until the age of 50 would come to pass….

But on arriving in Tunbridge Wells I struggled to find time to play. The first year of incumbency is challenging enough but with a new baby added to the learning curve as well, free afternoons became incredibly scarce! And whilst I did play a few times for various sides at Tonbridge rugby club, I never really got into a rhythm or had time to make friends at the club. I therefore put my boots in a bag and, with heavy heart, decided to call it a day.

But in hindsight that was a poor decision; firstly because fat men need exercise and secondly because a priest should grasp every opportunity to get amongst his people! And so this Saturday I join the Tunbridge Wells Veteran’s side (my days in 1st XV’s is long past) for a tournament at Ashford rugby club. By co-incidence a real ale festival is being held there at the same time (!!), so refreshment will be available. My boots were dusted off yesterday – I am buying a gum shield today. After a full season away from ‘the game for thugs played by gentlemen with funny shaped balls’ I am itching to get back… as testosterone fuelled chaps are prone to say…’bring it on!’

This morning we visited the fabulous Oxburgh Hall near Swaffham, which is one of the most beautiful of all National Trust Houses, in my personal opinion. It is lavishly decorated and contains some very unusual features, including a working priest hole where the Catholic family would stow away their clerics in times of strife! For Jemima’s entertainment – this house became Snow White’s today and it really has amazed me how much she is enjoying looking at these ancient places. She also delights in charging around the gardens and picking up leaves and stones.

After our tour we headed to the nearest pub and I enjoyed some more pints of Woodforde’s Wherry. I would thank all those who commented on my choice of Champion Ale yesterday, the beers you mention are all admirable. However not one holds a candle to this light, fresh and zesty ale which has won the award of Britain’s best beer on numerous occasions. So that is my choice…but just to be sure I shall test out a few more over the coming week. How I suffer for the sake of this blog!

This morning I awoke with a slightly sore head (following a delightful party last night) and spent a frenetic early morning packing bags and getting ready to drive up to Fakenham in Norfolk for a week’s family holiday. We left Sunny Tunny at 10am and the first stop was in Brentwood – to deposit the stinky dog with an old friend. True to form Max immediately disgraced himself by vomiting up his breakfast and emerging from behind a shed coated in seeds. With a slightly embarrased goodbye we then pootled over to the church warden of our previous parish to pick up some curtains which his wife had kindly lined for us.

Lunch was spent at the Red Lion in Margerreting in Essex and I can highly recommend it. The sun shone, the food was good (if unhealthy) and the beer garden full of delights for Jemima. We then returned to the car for the final leg of the journey to Fakenham, where our delightful holiday home is situated. Waiting for us were Peter and Irene, my inlaws, and we celebrated our arrival with a bottle of bubbly and some pre-prepared lasagne! Yummy, yummy!

A final mention must go to the awful stress I experienced on the journey. This being the first game of the new football season I foolishly turned on Radio Norfolk, for the commentary of Norwich v Colchester, full of optimism. Having been relegated to League 1 I felt that my beloved Norwich City might finally win more games than they lose…….at half time they trailed 5-0. The final score was a whapping 7-1!!! It would seem the new goalkeeper is about as much use as a waterproof sponge and the defence remains an utter joke….so depressing! Another season of doom and gloom seems likely.

This incredible photograph came my way via a mass email today- isn’t it brilliant!! Two little boys who have no idea about the full implications of what has just happened….one’s heart goes out to the parents! Made me smile so I thought I would share it.