One of the joys of my twelve month familiarization placement at
Cupar Old Parish Church in Cupar, Scotland, is visiting people in
their homes. The minister of Cupar Old has given me the names
and addresses of 117 people to visit during the course of my time
here. So far I've done over forty visits. They are usually widows
or widowers, and in their 70s or 80s. I have visited a few in their
90s. The vast majority are women, with only a handful of men.
Generally they are members of the church, but attend only on
the four communion Sundays per year.
I was advised to do my visits cold turkey; in other words, I don't
phone ahead. I just knock on the door. But in many cases, the chal-
lenge has been to even find the door. Rather than numbered street
addresses, many of the older residences only have place names such
as 'Moatview', 'Hillside', 'Rosewood Cottage', and 'Farlie Cottage'. It
has often taken me a bit of time to find them only to find that the per-
son was not in. But at least I knew then where that person lived.
I always wear a clerical collar when I make my visits. When a per-
son comes to the door I introduce myself as 'Reverend Jeff Tipp-
ner from Cupar Old', and then give them my card. Two women
didn't want a visit and one woman seemed to freak out on seeing
me. In those cases I just move on to another visit. But most of the
time I am invited in and given hospitality. People often offer me
tea or coffee. I usually ask for a tea, and especially enjoy it when
they offer a plate of 'biscuits' (cookies). The other day a kindly 90-
year old gentleman offered me a 'dram' of whiskey. Even though I
don't fancy whiskey, the way he asked me gave me the impression
that it would have been unacceptable to refuse. I guess I passed the
test because we got along quite well. He told me he made the drink
half whiskey and half water. I sipped it and rather enjoyed it. It was
a first for me. I'm sorry whiskey fans.
I guess there is a buzz around town that Cupar Old has its very
own American minister! So I play it for all it's worth. At the be-
ginning of a visit they are often very interested in me. So I tell
them a lot about myself. But most of the time they soon feel
comfortable enough to share about themselves. So I sit and lis-
ten; sometimes for twenty minutes or so, and sometimes for an
hour or more. It is a privilege to hear them share.
One gentleman shared with me about surprizing his mum in Aber-
deen in early May, 1945, the last week of World War II in Europe.
He had been captured by the Germans just before he could be evac-
uated from Dunkirk in 1940. He spent the duration of the war as a
Prisoner of War in Germany. The people I've visited have told me
wonderful stories from their lives, showed me pictures of grand- and
great grandchildren, shared their pain of sons and daughters cutting
off all communication with them, and told about life in Cupar in days
long pass. I sit and listen, and let them determine how long I stay. It
is always a privilege to be with them.
I sense that some of them are well supported by family and
friends. For others I make a note to drop by again in a month or
two to check in with them. It has been a wonderful experience for
me.
Blessings, and all the best to you and yours,
No comments:
Post a Comment