Diary of a Heretic!

The Pagan Adventures of a Christian Priest

By Mark Townsend

John Hunt Publishing Ltd.

Copyright © 2013 Mark Townsend
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-78279-271-0

Contents

Acknowledgments……………………………………………………viiiPrologue………………………………………………………….xForeword by the Barefoot Doctor, Stephen Russell………………………1Introduction………………………………………………………4January…………………………………………………………..11February………………………………………………………….36March…………………………………………………………….61April…………………………………………………………….100May………………………………………………………………122June……………………………………………………………..140July……………………………………………………………..154August……………………………………………………………163September…………………………………………………………177October…………………………………………………………..190November………………………………………………………….204December………………………………………………………….207Conclusion………………………………………………………..220Heretic! Yes or No?………………………………………………..221

CHAPTER 1

January

It’s a new year, thank God! Now I can at last slam the door on thelast one. Bang! I need to hold it tight, lean against it and stop anyof the poison creeping through. I imagine it trying to find acrack, like some noxious green Gotham City gas that’s found itsway to the air vent. If a year could be personified then 2008 isJack Nicolson’s Joker dressed as an old fashioned puppet master,complete with a marionette figurine on strings. And who is thiseffigy? Me of course. And up above my head dances the laughinggreen-haired-psycho slamming me into one calamity afteranother.

I can visualise the other guy coming out of the dark, the manwho thinks he is a bat. There he is and he’s holding a sharp bathandled blade. Swish! Bye bye Joker!

The door’s closed. The strings have been cut. Last year isgone, and here I am ready for a fresh new year and a chance towin a little happiness.

Okay, so I just exaggerated a little. Last year was dreadful butit was not all bad. I learned many invaluable lessons too. And anew year brings with it a fresh sense of hope. I just wonder whatthis year will bring for me and my family. It feels a whole lotdifferent to this time last year. How on earth we got through itI’ll never know, but we did.

* * *

Nothing’s permanent. Everything is constantly changing, developing,mutating and being transformed. And all this change andnecessary growth is painful. It requires many deaths. There is noother way. Life, death and re-birth is nature’s on-going cycle ofcreation, destruction and re-creation. We can’t halt the processjust because we don’t like it. In fact, when we get in the way ofnature, she fights back.

Today the last branch of dear old Woolies closed. For ahundred years we’ve had Woolworths in our towns and cities. It’salmost as established as the dear old Church of England. What’shappening? More and more businesses are throwing in theirhands every day. It’s an economic melt-down. Is that all part ofnature fighting back? Is there some deeper reason why we arewaving goodbye to so much of what we’ve known? Are we soovergrown in our bulging, pulsating cities that the only possibleway forward is a severe pruning back of dead wood? Have weattempted to re-build Babel as a strange post-religious temple tothe gods of secular capitalism? And has the tower begun tocrumble under its own colossal weight?

* * *

It’s only the first week in the New Year and already I’m facedwith a probable controversy. I wrote a strong but genuinely wellintentioned letter to the local press just before Christmas. I wasupset by the remarks made by the Pope that were interpreted ashim drawing a parallel between homosexuality and thedestruction of the rain forests. Today’s newspaper has droppedthrough the post and there it is, the top headline, staring at mefrom the floor. They turned my letter into a front page article:

Ex-Vicar Slams Pope’s Anti-Gay Message

The article continues:

A North Herefordshire clergyman, who uses magic tricks to spreadhis religious message, has spoken out in defense of gay priests as arow caused by the Pope’s comments on homosexuality rumbles on.

As gay groups and activists reacted angrily to Pope BenedictXVI’s claims that saving humanity from homosexual or transsexualbehaviour must rank on the same scale as protecting theenvironment, Rev Mark Townsend expressed dismay at the end ofyear speech to staff at the Vatican.

No stranger to controversy himself, Mr. Townsend, who gave uphis job with the Herefordshire Diocese to carry out spiritual workwith the aid of magic, explained that some of his best friends are gayCatholic and Anglican priests. “I thank God for the ministry ofevery one of them, and I make this point because, should either theRoman or Anglican church ever succeed in eliminating all gay menand women from the ranks of the clergy – well, I’m afraid large areasof the church would cease to exist, for there would be no-one left toserve them,” he stated.

The former team ministry leader, who was vicar at LeominsterPriory Church for eight years, makes it clear the views are his own,and not those of the Church of England or Hereford Diocese.

“I do not speak for them. I speak as a flawed and imperfect ex-vicar,with pagan leanings, who still loves the church but hates itsexclusivity,” he said.

He believed Pope Benedict did not intend his remarks to be ‘re-expressed’the way they were. “But even if you water it down, to seehomosexuality as such a threat to the institution of the churchboggles the mind,” he said. “What a ‘wonderful’ message from theworld’s most prominent church leader!”

The UK Lesbian and Gay Christian Movement called the Pope’sremarks “irresponsible and unacceptable.”

Mr. Townsend said: “I have been a priest for 10 years, and overthe course of that period, have had the privilege of getting to knowsome truly wonderful clergy, Roman, Anglican and Protestant, andan enormous percentage of them are gay. I have been taught bythem, trained alongside them, worked with them, been absolved bythem, laughed with them and cried with them.”

“Surely our founder, the one whose birthday we have justcelebrated, taught that love, rather than judgement is the way?”

I bet that goes down like a lead balloon! It reminds me of lastyear when a very tongue in cheek letter of mine ended up withmy receiving a hierarchical phone call and a demand for a letterof apology to an offended Christian couple who’d written acomplaint about me. Okay it was a silly letter, but understandablebearing in mind the circumstances. I’d been attacked inthe local newspaper three times over one of my books. A fundamentalistChristian had complained that my book was dangerousheresy. I politely replied, showing respect for his opinion. Hewrote another attack. Again I replied politely, and he respondedwith yet another attack. So I wrote this: “If Jesus ever decided tocome back to earth he’d probably take one look and say ‘Screwthe church’ and go down the pub for a real conversation.”

The next thing I heard was an episcopal voice on the phonesaying that he’d received a complaint about me and that I mustapologise by letter. He also said, “Mark the church is the bride ofChrist.” I felt like saying, “Well in that case maybe Jesus wants adivorce,” but I bit my tongue instead.

* * *

Peter Owen Jones’s new BBC television series has begun. It’sbrave and breath-taking! This eccentric vicar’s TV appearancesare one of the very few public portrayals of the Church ofEngland that give me any hope for the future of BritishAnglicanism. But I wonder how long he’ll get away with pushingthe boundaries the way he does. I’ve been looking forward to thisever since I first heard about it. I thought his previous seriesExtreme Pilgrim was one of the best pieces of religious broadcastingever. It was open, gutsy, exciting, spiritual, dynamic,realistic and thoroughly human.

What’s astonishing about the first episode of Around the Worldin 80 Faiths is the undeniable fact that so much natural Paganismstill makes meaning all over the world, even within strictlymonotheistic cultures. There were examples of both Christianand Islamic communities that have clearly continued some oftheir pre-monotheistic Pagan practises, and even found ways toincorporate them into their current religious culture andpractices.

* * *

I have three funerals on at the moment and was particularlymoved by a visit I made to a family yesterday. The widow told ofhow her late husband’s only concern was with regard to whowould officiate at his funeral. He and his wife had ceased to bereligious after their children had grown up, but they alwaysremained open to spiritual things. He knew that the “donething” was to have the local vicar officiate. The other optionwould have been a humanist, but that would rule out anyprayers or hymns.

The widow said, “Then Victoria found you, Mark, ouranswer.” [Victoria is the funeral director] I can’t express howhumbling and awe inspiring it is to still be used in this way. Ihope I never stop thinking of this as the most awesome privilege.

An ingredient that contributes much to my ceremonies is theDruidry I’ve been immersed within. The Order of Bards, Ovatesand Druids has given me so much over the last couple of years.Pagan Druidry adds what is lacking within regular Christianworship and practise; a deep love and reverence for nature, arecognition and appreciation of the divine feminine, an earthyand dramatic use of metaphor, symbol and ritual, and muchmore.

I’ve begun a new pattern of prayer too but don’t be misled bythe use of the term “new.” It’s not as if there was an old pattern.My regular prayer routine began to fade shortly after my resignationin June 2007. Throughout last year I took regular trips tothe forest to sit, contemplate, whine, and occasionally listen tothe “voice within,” but as for formal “prayer times,” not interested.Church rarely saw me either. However I do feel the timehas come to plug myself back in to some daily rhythm; not aproscribed dogmatism, but a gentle setting aside of a few choicemoments as a spiritual heart beat for the week. I’m using myfriend Rev. Tess Ward’s beautiful book The Celtic Wheel of the Year.This book is a treasure chest, drawing upon both Christian andPagan sources. So far so good, I’ve kept it up really well, but thenit is only the 7th Jan.

* * *

I just dropped my gorgeous kids at the school bus stop. Howlucky I am to have them. They teach me so much, and are sodifferent to how I was as a boy. A right little “so and so” I was:

[Ding dong!] ‘agggggggggh, what have you done now Mark?’

That was the sound of my mum who, about thirty-seven yearsago opened the door on her eight year old son. He’d been playingwith his chemistry set again. Why the hell did they give thosethings to kids back then? There I was, chimp’s grin across myface, hands burning like a flaming torch from Raiders of the LostArk. I’d soaked my hand in methylated spirit and set it alight witha match. I realised that if you kept your hand flapping, the windwould cool your hand as the spirit burnt off (before scorching theskin). I did get hurt a few times with my silly games but it wasfun.

What a contrast to the control freak I turned into.

* * *

I’m walking down The Grange, a lovely park area near the churchI used to be vicar of. I love my morning walks. Not long ago Ispotted a raven couple down near the river. Funnily enough I wasby some standing stones when I saw them. Since then the twobeautiful black angels have occasionally appeared, croaking andflying acrobatically across the sky. I hope I see them today. Thereare always plenty of crows but these magic black ravens are rareand awesome. It was a raven vision that inspired my last book.

The rest of the feathered tribe is loud today, audiblydecorating the otherwise silent dawn with an array of happyvoices. I love the way nature speaks. More and more I find theDruidic way of appreciating the divinity of the natural world soappealing.

I blessed my home yesterday, with a Druid ritual. I’ve donehome blessings before but they seem to come from theperspective of places being somehow “dark” until you claim itfor the light, as if the house is both being blessed and exorcisedat the same time. I find other sacraments similar, like baptism. Infact many do see baptism as a mini service of deliverance. Thebaby is somehow cleansed and brought into the light. I’ve neverviewed it in this way. To me a baptism is a marking out ofwhatever already is true. My Druid home blessing was, likewise,a celebration of the gift of the space (which is already good) anda blessing of the Great Spirit upon it. Naturally there are alsonotions of protection within the rite but not with the heavy darkand light dualism.

* * *

I’m beginning to feel a little more settled in my unsettledness.Faith, let’s face it, is a slippery business. Trying to hold on to itwith certainty is like trying to hold onto a bar of soap in a bath.Faith is riddled with doubt, confusion, at times despair, and hasthe inevitable smattering of hypocrisy.

The church is still (at least partially) my spiritual family(though they, Christians, scare the crap out of me at times). I’meven preparing to perform as a magician at a couple of DiocesanConventions this year; the first is only a few days away[shudder!]. It’s for the Diocese of Rochester. I’ve been invited toperform a magic show as their final entertainment. It should befun, but before that I’m off to do the same thing at a church inBirmingham, at the parish of St. Francis of Assisi, Bourneville.My friends from Theological College are in ministry there. Peteris the vicar and his wife Paula is the Reader (as well as being oneof the most well respected theologians in the Church of England).She taught me Old Testament at theological college and wasfantastic. We hung off every word. Her lectures were passionateand engaging.

* * *

I’m down The Grange again. The orchestra is in full swing thismorning. Birds of every variety make music to the dawn andhumanity’s mechanical music compliments: the distant grindingof lorries on the busy bypass and a car pulling into a drivewayclose by. The coarse, yet wondrous crow’s caw, the soft coo coo ofthe wood pigeon above my head, cushioned beneath a blanket ofsound from the smaller tweeting birds; the tits and finches. Birdshave a powerful divinatory significance within modern Druidry.My own soul-bird, the raven, is seen as a magical creature,symbolic of spiritual transformation. For centuries these carrioneating birds have been associated with the corpses of the battlefield and thus have an interpretation similar to that of the tarotdeath card – the dying of a past aspect of your life and re-birth into acompletely new life.

Now the great Priory’s bell gongs eight times. It reminds meof the eight years I was its vicar. This is the very building whereI’d lean over the altar rail to distribute communion and (moreimportantly to me) kneel down to bless those who’d not beenconfirmed. I miss it. A lump comes to my throat as I think of thegreat privilege of being a priest for people, real people. Part of thejob today means being a priest of an increasingly irrelevant institution,but there’s still much importance involved in parishministry; holding families and individuals through tough andtearful times, being there to bless and welcome new life into thisworld, and helping make some sense of life for those who haveall but given up!

I swallow, dislodge the lump, and whisper a prayer of thanksto the Great Mystery who’s moved me on to deeper things,magical truths and more privileges of serving this fragile world.No longer do I have to suffer the futile games of the institution.

* * *

I went out on the town for a few beers tonight and bumped intoa young crowd who were watching a lad do some sleight of handmagic. He was good. They saw me and asked me to show themsomething but I pointed at the guy and said “he’s yourmagician.” But then even he demanded that I perform. So I did afew effects. I have a rule here: always encourage, never put downand never show off. Share the magic and leave it with theaudience. Don’t snatch it back when you finish as if it’s yourpossession. Magic was there before you arrived and remainsthere after you’ve gone. Your role is simply to uncover it forthem.

* * *

I was thinking about revenge today, mainly because I’d had achat with a very angry and aggressive woman; someone whotakes no prisoners. One rule I hope I always manage to stick to isthis: never deal out “like for like.” Though the temptation will attimes be intense, it will only be returned with even greater force.Hatred only breeds more hatred. Bless don’t curse. Cursescontain a sinister sticky substance that stains the curser as muchas the one being cursed. Be honest. Yes, say if something has hurtyou, but do not retaliate with vengefulness. Let love be the innerguide. Fear is the poison of the soul. It manifests in violence,either literal violence or violent thoughts, and both can kill.

* * *

I’m back down The Grange again and I just noticed a mass ofsprouting shoots. Mother Earth is already preparing her springtime flower festival. Who can claim poverty when we have suchriches under our feet? I don’t think I need much more than thisright now.

* * *

I’m preparing a funeral for a man of nature, a man who spent hiswhole life in ecology and conservation with a particular interestin birds. He did not follow a religious path. His dear wife wantsto reflect his passion for nature within the ceremony and needs itto be honest and authentic. It will be a ceremony at the localwoodland burial site. This is what I have decided to say as part ofthe introductory words:

This ceremony, though nonreligious, will be deeply spiritual, andPeter’s warm and generous character will shine through it all.Whatever we think or feel about the spiritual world it surely cannotonly be locked away inside a book or a building. So today we meetoutside, under the canopy of the sky; within the natural temple of thewoodland, among the fellow devotees of the birds, rabbits, deer andall the other creatures of the forest.
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