David Wilbourne

By nature, I’m drawn to the bucolic. It’s not that I’m naive to the hard realities of life, by any stretch. (Could any of us approaching middle age be otherwise?) It’s just that I find solace in reading about humanity’s better angels in spite of what we each suffer. Enter "Shepherd of Another Flock" by David Wilbourne.

This is a light-hearted, sincere memoir by Wilbourne, a vicar in the Church of England, and stories from his first year as the parish priest in Helmsley--a small town in the North York Moors region of northeastern Yorkshire.

Wilbourne spins a humble, witty, and interminably optimistic series of tales of the characters he encounters during his first year in his new assignment. His writing device is to pivot between his contemporary encounters and the memories they spark of his own childhood as the son of an English vicar--like father, like son. "My mind also went back thirty years to my boyhood days in Aughton, which, like East Moors, had seemed like the end of the earth."

The story unfolds with the help of his iconic bicycle, on which the vicar climbs and descends the hills and vales of the area to visit the various parishes under his stewardship, in all kinds of weather. His descriptions of the Yorkshire countryside are absorbing. "Our path meandered through the vicarage garden next door to the church. The ground fell sharply away beneath it, offering breathtaking views towards Rievaulx and the River Rye."

His anecdotes of the large and charming personalities he ministers to along the way are even better. The encounters are almost all inspiring, a few are even funny. I found myself totally charmed by Wilbourne’s anecdotes about the struggles and triumphs of his parishioners--real people, real personalities, in real and relatable situations. His style as the shepherd of this flock is both humane and human, and he looks for and describes the best in each of them—even when it seems hard to do.

Perhaps the resonance of this book for me comes from the roles I have had as a lay minister in my own church all of my adult life. Recently, I've been given the responsibility to minister more deliberately to more members of my "parish" congregation in my community here in the western U.S., and so I found Wilbourne’s commitment to visiting with his parishioners to be worthy of emulation. "From my first days in ministry...my Vicar had made it clear that visiting folk was the whole point of ministry, with everything else a distraction...I enjoy hearing people's stories, and many times their hard-won faith and the way they put it into practice shames mine."

I have found great joy in meeting people where they are in their lives and doing my best to let them know that they are loved and that they are not alone—even when they are going through hard times and the right words of comfort seem hard to find. "I didn't know what to say either, but I knew I had to be there. So after evensong one September Sunday night I detoured via their home, sat with them, listened to them, held them in their grief." Perhaps just mourning with those that mourn is enough. "Despite the lateness of the hour, I decided I could put my visit off no longer. I had no magic wand to make things better, I just wanted to be with them." I was inspired by Wilbourne's efforts to do this.

I found some interesting insights and parallels between the Church of England and the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints that have reinforced my feeling that we Christians are not too different from one another, wherever we are from and however we worship.

This book is a heart-warming read for those who think about faith in action and what it means to minister and serve our neighbors and community. It's also worthwhile for those who love learning about off-the-grid places--rural England in this case, and the quirks and personalities of those who inhabit this corner of the world.

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Here are a few favorite snippets from Wilbourne...

He talked about a mentor priest of his, John Habgood, "realizing the high price that priests paid as they walked with those in deep darkness and sorrow, trying to be Christ to the world and see Christ in the world."

When he was a kid..."a visit from a man called Green -- the last surviving member of Shackleton's Antarctic Expedition of 1914-1917. This Ancient of Days, well into his eighties, decked in a moth-eaten woolly jumper which spelt strongly of fish, showed us his glass slides on his magic lantern: their ship the Endurance crushed by pack ice and sinking; the bleak Polar landscape where they sheltered beneath upturned lifeboats for five months...the inhospitable cliffs of South Georgia...But more than those pictures, I recall his haunting tale of how every time they did a head count, they always felt there was one more member in addition to the crew of twenty-nine. I guess it primed me for a lifetime feeling there was an extra person walking beside me."

On the annual "donation day" for his parish: "I had written to over 1,500 homes to introduce myself and invite people to bring their gift and have a chat." (Tithing settlement)

"Alan had also tipped me off that many parishioners sneak into the park when his Lordship isn't looking and throw the ashes of their nearest and dearest into these waters, a Yorkshire Ganges. I was rather taken with this modern-day Viking funeral, where the deceased's voyage bisects Yorkshire; they would join the Derwent above Kirkham Priory, the home of the Augustinian monks who had founded Helmsley Church and built our vicarage, before their ashes would wend their way through the fecund meadowlands of the Vale of York..."

"I've never slept well before celebrating Mass," (Father Bert) confided. "Well, Father, if you think of what we're doing, who could sleep?"

"I listened respectfully to all their many tales, realizing the time for telling them was rapidly running out. It was my privilege to listen beside them for what remained of their day."

"...like David, my biblical namesake, the Goliaths of this world have never impressed me that much."

"Some people suffer very little loss, but have a miserable mindset."

Aren't these "five points" Wilbourne proposed to his Church Council needed everywhere?
1. We should be producing excellent, moving, converting worship, match-fit for 1997 rather than 1897, which will make anybody dropping in feel it's really good to be here.
2. We should be sensitive to our community's hurting points and stand alongside people who are going through their personal Good Friday.
3. We should be aiming to transform and heal those hurting points, moving people on from Good Friday to Easter Sunday.
4. We should be making disciples, encouraging people to fish for Christ.
5. As a church we should have a care for each other, and make sure we are a forgiving, loving and accepting community, so that when people say, 'See how these Christians love one another', they really mean it and aren't being ironic.

"Eternal Father strong to save,
whose arm doth bind the restless wave...
O hear us when we cry to thee,
for those in peril on the sea."

"Wherever there is pain, there is Christ." -an Irish woman, passing through Helmsley… (mais)

The book is a fictional account, very much in James Herriot's style, of the author's first post as team vicar in a Yorkshire village.

David is well characterised as a young, likeable but slightly nervous young man who is determined to bring God's love to his new parishioners. Not that it is overtly religious: the descriptions of services, often complete with practical problems inherent in an ancient church building, are factual and often amusing.

There is some humour that almost made me laugh out loud, and some very moving moments which brought a tear to my eye. The whole is narrated slightly tongue-in-cheek, with excellent flow. I hope I can get hold of the sequel sometime. Highly recommended to anyone who enjoyed James Herriot's books.… (mais)