11TH MAY 2009
Some wonderful sight came on the walk Brighton to Margate back in February which so highlighted a place already circled on the map. Just a hunch, a gut feeling that this place was key within the shape marked out on paper; the shape that we are now walking.
St Albans was about to reveal its wares through a banal set of leads in which a chrysler Jeep has the staring role….
……In a dream, Martin Scott handed Malc and I some keys. We were to go off and uncover something that had been ‘buried in the war’, hidden until such a time that it was safe to go back and recover it. We then found ourselves in a large barn where something was hidden under straw and camouflage netting. As we removed the covering, underneath was what looked like our Jeep and the dream ended.
Our Jeep went to Wales 4 times last year and each trip it developed very serious and expensive faults whilst there.
While I was walking out of Brighton, Malc took the Jeep to Wales again and sure enough it stopped dead 2 miles outside Cardiff! One of the team from the St Albans area a saw a picture of a white rose on the jeep and said it was connected to the breakdowns. Another felt it was connected to where the Jeep was from….it was bought in St Albans. I wondered what the white rose meant but did not want to jump to conclusions.
A week later Malc returned home with the Jeep working, only to find that once parked it had stopped dead outside our house. While shocked that the Jeep had stopped again, I had to cycle to the local Indian to pick up an order. While I paid, the waiter handed me a white rose, it was like being hit round the face! This had never happened in 12 years of take outs! As I cycled home I rapidly began to feel ill and ended up in bed with no appetite for dansak. The white rose weighed on my mind it looked so pure and fragile, it seemed to represent something very tender and precious.
The draw was to look into who Alban was, the ‘1st Christian martyr’.
In AD 250 (approx) he was a pagan who took in a Welsh Priest ‘Amphibalus’ on the run from the Roman army. Alban was converted by ‘Amphibalus’ and when the Romans came knocking, he took the endangered priests cloak and impersonated him. When found out, Alban was ordered to sacrifice to the Roman gods.
He refused and confessed Christ. So Alban was executed and then sacrificed to the Roman gods. Amphibalus was caught in Caerleon, South Wales having escaped and convinced many Britons of Christ. He was returned to St Albans and executed. Amphibalus means ‘cloak’ we don’t even know the name of the Welsh priest but it is suggested that he was the Bishop on Llandaff (Cardiff) in the ancient church of the Britons.
A single white rose represents Pure Love…..Jesus love…..
‘Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends…’
An amazing love where a new believer willingly gives his life…this is what has been hidden during the original ‘war’ over Christianity. This at the heart of the indigenous church, no self preservation, no love of self but a pure single love that lays down it’s life. A servant leadership that lowers itself for the sake of another… for the sake of Cymru.
…….THIS IS THE TIME OF THE WHITE ROSE……
This 3rd leg of the walk finished with going to St Alban’s with 2 white roses to lay in the city as a reminder of why these two men died. To expose a true root that opposes control in the only way possible and is a deeper magic that can break any stone table. Amphibalus’ broken shrine is in the cathedral, we knelt to honoured his life and called for the awakening of a new day and a new time. Alban’s shrine so stank of religion so we hot footed it on to the street and up Holywell Hill where he was executed. We stood between Lamb Avenue and a closed down pub called ‘The Bell’ and downloaded heaven, calling up all that is buried to be uncovered and got so whacked from the wind of the Spirit.
We declared south to Brighton a pure love between men and north to Lincoln a ceasing of self preservation and self love.
St Albans is a Chester, where a foothold of the roman control digs deep. These feet will seek to hold out the longest but it is time for them to be uprooted. St Albans is in the heart of this shape we walk and this is where it starts.