When Christ appeared on Easter Day

Alleluia, Christ is risen; He is risen indeed, alleluia! So goes our Easter acclamation, from the dawn service on Easter Day through to the end of Eastertide, some fifty days later. I confess, however, my alleluias also have a different cause for celebration right now. Easter Day saw the installation of my sculpture, the idea for which I first conceived three years ago, and which became a live project some seven months ago. My Lenten discipline saw me commit additional days and hours to getting the six pieces completed and ready for a timely installation, a daily choreography of carrying pieces in and out of the studio, into the outside covered area, and then to the spray-paint tent at the other end of the garden, and back again. So it was that on Holy Saturday morning, the sculpture was then loaded in its entirety into the back of a van, together with carefully planned boxes of pens, cushions, and signage, unloaded into Cirencester parish church and left there overnight, in readiness for its reveal the next morning. In case you are wondering, that's comparatively easy to write; yet if I tell you that the total weight of the sculpture is close to half a tonne, you will forgive me if its successfully-completed installation led to my own, personal "Alleluia!"

I wrote last month about some of the thinking behind the design and intent of the sculpture (you can remind yourself here: With the power-tools, of the Spirit). Yet, as any artist knows, the real test of a work is how the public respond. Would anyone engage with it and in what way?

I needn't have worried. Once footfall in the town centre began to increase with church services beginning and the opening of shops, so too did the numbers of people stopping to chat with us. Early on, it felt important to invite people to take part, giving them permission to write onto the pristine white shapes. However, once the pieces had their first few messages, passers-by felt more inclined simply to add their own contributions. What was lovely to see was the extent to which children and young people engaged with the event. They bypassed many of the questions posed by older generations ("what is it?" "what does it say?" "Are they a kind of letters?"), instead allowing their innate creativity and desire to leave a mark to guide them.

Jesus called a child, whom he put among them, and said, ‘Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.

Matthew 18.2-3

By the end of the day, all the pieces had been transformed by the thoughts, greetings, prayers and drawings of a myriad people. More than that, I had a strong sense of the event having created a genuine sense of community, and a real Easter blessing to those who took part. Even for those who did not take up a pen, there were numerous people who took time to read the messages left by others. Amongst those participants who kindly completed my short feedback form, the words used most often to describe how the event made them feel were "it was fun" "I felt creative/inspired" and "happy". Also scoring highly were "I felt calm/peaceful" and "it made me think about the meaning of Easter". I can say honestly that being there throughout the day to witness people engaging with the sculpture, knowing that I had curated this space and opportunity for them, was truly humbling. It was totally exhausting and a week later (nearly), I still feel a deep weariness that has not yet left me. Yet, I know deeply that throughout the project, Christ has been with me and truly made His appearance in Cirencester on Easter day.

However, the life of this sculpture has not yet ended. At the end of the day, it was moved (again!) into the parish church, where it has remained open for visitors to continue to add their thoughts, prayers, hopes etc. (and will remain so until 23 April). Earlier today, I went into church and was truly amazed at the way in which it has been added to over just five days.

You can watch a time-lapse video of the event on Easter day here.

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The Easter Triduum saw the coming together of my priestly and artistic roles in varied ways, starting with the annual renewal of ordination vows at the Chrism Mass at Gloucester Cathedral, with Bishop Rachel presiding, on Thursday morning; then setting up the Altar of Repose at the parish church and overseeing the keeping of the Watch at the end of the evening liturgy of Maundy Thursday. I do so love designing a theme for the Altar and seeing it in all its beauty when the candles are lit in the darkness. I feel a profound sense of privilege and responsibility in preparing this space for our Lord.

Good Friday saw me back in church for three hours, ending with the Liturgy of the Cross, while Holy Saturday was all about setting up for Sunday. At the end of a day standing in the market place and engaging with people around the sculpture, I ended Sunday by preaching at Evensong, as we reflected together on the events of the day. In fact, I had such a busy four days of it that it was almost like being back in full-time parish ministry, only different!

It probably won't surprise you to hear that not a lot else has happened over the past month! I did manage to complete my first module of bookbinding samples towards the CLAS Specialist Skills Award, which went on their way for assessment yesterday. Phew! I'm hoping that the timing for module B will allow me a gentler pace over the coming months.

In the past few days, I have received an invitation to speak in the autumn, the details for which are yet to be finalised. I have an icon commission (a diptych of the Blessed Virgin Mary and St Richard of Chichester) that needs to be completed by June. And of course, I now have just nine weeks until the opening of my MFA degree show, so there is more art to be completed (and another van trip for the runes!). If you are able to travel to Oxford, the Private View for my degree show takes place at 6-8pm on Friday 12 June, to which you are warmly invited. More details to follow.

Booking continues for my next Praying with Icons retreat at the beautiful Launde Abbey, 7-9 September 2026. More details here

If you enjoy reading my blog and wish to support my ministry in a practical way, I have set up a page with "Buy me a coffee". This website, designed with creatives in mind, recognises that a whole load of my time goes into maintaining a website, keeping up with social media and writing blog posts, time that is not then available for income-generating work. In the context of this month's post, while I received a grant to cover the cost of materials for the sculpture, all my time was unpaid.

Given that my passion for good coffee comes not very far behind my love for God and art (!), if you feel so inclined, you can click on the button below to make a donation towards my ongoing ministry (but without any obligation to do so). Huge thanks to those of you who have bought me a coffee in previous months - please don't feel you have to every time or at all!