Ok, so not exactly bulls. There was just one. And his name was Ross. And a more docile bull you'd struggle to find. He just sat there, plonked in his meadow on a hot spring afternoon, surrounded by his hairy harem of Highland cattle, Dexter and Aberdeen Angus crosses. Actually, I lost track of the lines of parentage, it was all very complicated, but suffice to say he'd not be short of cards on a bovine Father's Day. And then again, I did feel a teeny bit responsible for the six under 6s in the field at the time, keeping hands off barbed wire fencing, sandals out of cow pats, and a beady eye on Myrtle, who was bellowing and moving shiftily closer, like a minotaur advancing on the battlefield in the first Narnia movie.
True enough, Ross the bull didn't quite encircle me either. Because there was a fence between us and him. And our friend and host at Church Leyes Farm, Napton-on-the-Hill, radical organic farmer and cow whisperer Bob Crick, was keeping things calm and letting the cattle and sheep know that the gaggle of young life that was currently sharing their quarters posed no threat.
I love where I work, and how God's brought me into contact with local farmers who are happy to share some insights into what their life is like. Even these brief glimpses are like living parables, bringing to life Jesus' words. It's inescapable, when you spend time with Bob, or Frank Eadon last week with the newborn lambs on his farm further down the road, this talking and reassuring, sensitivity and trust.
My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one will snatch them out of my hand. [John 10:27-8]
Like when we first met a newborn calf, and Bob had to get between it and its mother. She was agitated, but he just soothed it with his voice and an outstretched comb.
We were doing this thing in the car on the way back, asking everyone for a highlight. Toasting marshmallows. Building dens for animal finger puppets. And for me, it was just stepping back (avoiding cowpats) and seeing how God's been bringing us together with other people since we moved down here.
That word that we've had since the Autumn: gathering.
Being part of a bunch of folk strolling across a field, mums and kids, just enjoying the adventure of it and thinking to myself this is why I don't want to be just a nuclear family, this is why I want the right balance of time for us and time where we're part of a bigger "us", an extended family, where my children know and feel what being Jesus' brothers and sisters is about, and I get to too. Always looking to gather, bring together, and for it to just flow out of everyday adventures.
Because I'm pretty pants at making friends, and I need all the practice I can get.
Hanging out at Bob's farm, it just flows from the work I do and how God's brought me to this neck of the woods, and what I enjoy doing, for me, for my own kids, for whoever's up for joining in. So, it's a bit crazy to toast marshmallows in broad daylight when it's baking hot. But autumn's too far off to miss the chance to give a twelve year old a pop at showing how he can start a fire that benefits everyone.
No flyers. No logos. No asking someone else for the go ahead.
But, as far as I can tell, we were just being church.
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