Tag: Manchester (Page 1 of 2)

Church of All Saints & Martyrs, Langley Cross

ShoutOut: “Beneath The Langley Cross” by Andrew James Murray

May 19, 2025 / laura bruno lilly / 28 Comments

A few months ago, I finished reading “Beneath The Langley Cross – Reminiscences Of All Saints & Martyrs And Its People” by my Manc Bud & poet, Andrew James Murray.

What drew me in to reading this was two-fold:

An interest in the culmination of this several year project of my friend – gathering interviews and curating an oral history of a place I am unfamiliar with and
A fascination with yet another Manchester area icon: The Langley Cross

What kept my attention?

The stories told that are held within its pages.

This is well-written (edited interview transcriptions), well-curated and covers a lot of ground. Spanning the years from 1954-present, it is easily understood in that the overarching story is told by those still living it. Additionally, as a non-Brit, I was able to grasp some of the cultural idiosyncrasies in context.

What struck me most was how the fellowship, community & outreach parallel the spirit of my experiences as a young adult during the counterculture Jesus Movement of the 60s/70s from across the pond in Colorado – earthy, gritty, hands-on, purity of intent, & making a difference in lives.

These people were doers*.
“Living it out without emphasizing the fact.“**
Crossing generations, social divides, cultural and religious differences.

I relate to this.

What makes this extra-ordinary for me as a Yank is the context of these living encounters occurring within the ‘organized’ Church. Specifically, the huge establishment called, the Church of England.

The book contains living examples of how denominational enabled faith can be a vital force within local communities.

It also teases personalities into the mix, making for many laugh-out-loud moments within the reading.

“There’re so many memories. I remember once, during the middle of the service, a woman, (who shall remain nameless), got up to go to the toilet in the hall. It was during the sermon when she came back, and she walked back to her place with this long line of toilet paper trailing after her out of her dress. I can’t remember who was giving the sermon but he didn’t miss a beat, just carried on. That could only happen at our church.”
Hilary Savage, Beneath the Langley cross, pg 185

As for The Langley Cross itself. My taste tends towards abstract expressionism, so from an artistic view, it immediately captured my interest. I looked up everything I could find on the sculptor, Geoffrey Clarke RA, and the history behind the making of it.

The fact that such a piece – real art – landed in an ordinary ‘overspill’ social housing area during the 1960s, I call miraculous.

The sculpture itself is 37 feet high and about 20 feet wide at the extremities of the transverse shaft and made of cast aluminum metal. No flimsy, non-descript plastic/wooden 2×4 cross for this congregation!

But that’s only part of the miracle.

The real miracle is that The Langley Cross speaks to the hearts of the people it serves. There is beauty in struggle, purpose in pain. Hope. A timeless message for a broken world.

“Clarke’s cross portrays the brutality of the ancient Roman practice of crucifixion yet at the same time seems to interpret this in a more modern context…the rugged structure of the Langley Cross, which is made in rough cast aluminum, serves to remind us of the harshness and brutality of the Cross on Golgotha…representing our Lord’s offering of himself for us on the cross to us in the Holy Sacrament – This is my Body which is given for you…“
All Saints And Martyrs website

* James 1:22-27
** Mona Davies, Beneath the Langley Cross pg 59

Andrew James Murray is a writer and poet living in Manchester, England. Along with his own poetry collections – Heading North (2015), In Brigantia (2019) and Fifty (2023) – his work has appeared in various publications and anthologies, including Best Of Manchester Poets.
Find his books here

A Roundabout Post for Black History Month

February 17, 2025 / laura bruno lilly

Note: It would not be prudent for me to share how the past 29 days of our lives have been personally & directly changed within our family and friends since 1/20/2025. Or specific instances of how those changes reach farther than just us. Instead, what follows is an attempt at showing in a less threatening context – how
silenced voices can yet speak.

Just a few days ago, as I was “doing what I do” across multiple areas of interest – taking deep dives into satisfying curiosities, researching on-line and hardcopy, expanding my knowledge-base to further enrich my (he)artistic creations, personal enrichment, and ‘growing in knowing’ – I came across yet another disturbing announcement.

So much so that I copied and pasted the relevant portions of the National Endowment of the Arts website info to a Word doc in the event original articles would be scrubbed and disappear entirely. What a thing to feel compelled to do. Yet, this was based upon recent blackouts of other websites such as DEI, NIH, USAID, CDC…

The National Endowment for the Arts cancelled its grant program Challenge America for fiscal year 2026. In operation since 2001, the program primarily supports small organizations & individuals that reach “historically underserved communities that have limited access to the arts relative to geography, ethnicity, economics, and/or disability.” *

The National Endowment for the Arts itself is a conduit of support for a myriad of disciplines ranging from scientific research, the arts, and community development through its extensive grant programs.

The artist I was interested in tracking down, Susan Hudson, is a 2024 NEA National Heritage Fellow. She was honored (along with 9 others) just this past September at the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts ** and the Library of Congress.

This is how one voice can yet speak

Native American Heritage Month is in November.

November 2024, it was celebrated all out, in full view – integrating past, present and future aspects of this vibrant cultural community and its members.

Black History Month is in February.

Now. This month. This year. February 2025.

It is currently in low gear due to unspecified ‘new guidelines’ yet demanding adherence. In addition, Black History Month, as an “Identity Month” has been declared dead by the DoD.

That said, join me now as I envision a celebration parade headed by my Black History Month honoree of personal choice: Sister Rosetta Tharpe.

Need help with that?

Pretend you’re one of the audience here in this vintage footage of Sister Rosetta performing in the rain at the then abandoned (and now non-existent) Chorlton railway station on Wilbraham Road, Manchester, England.

This is how silenced voices can yet speak

As part of the 1964 Blues & Gospel Train Tour through Europe, this all out performance in the rain exemplifies what it means to be a true performing (he)artist.

“The station was dressed up to look like one from the American South, but typically for Manchester, the weather did not echo that area’s dustbowl conditions. Shortly after the train which carried the audience the few miles south from Manchester’s city centre pulled in, a storm lashed the station.

‘Sister Rosetta came to me and asked if she could change her opening number to Didn’t It Rain? … when she strapped on her guitar, it was astounding.’

Mr. Hamp says the downpour would have been his worst memory of the show had it not led to his best.”
a memory from TV producer Johnnie Hamp

I will not elaborate on the impact these current times are making upon everyday Americans – scientists, musicians, academics, researchers, educators, students, health workers, families, farmers, etc – At least not directly.

For now, this is how one voice, my voice, can yet speak.

*from the original website category list description as per my cut and paste Word doc
**Since then, much has changed within the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, making this past event hold even more significance.

Yep, Still Technical Difficulties, but I’m Back Anyway

May 5, 2024 / laura bruno lilly

And what should appear in my email but a notice from a certain Manc Bud Poet that he’d filmed a snippet of a song I love during a concert he attended just Friday night.

He wanted me to know that the vid was too large to send so – get this – he decided to post it on his blog instead…just so I could share in its musical delights!

Hop over and take a peek! The vibe of the venue is just what my psyche needed, too.

Ya know, WP has many, many issues, but why I stick with it is because of guys like Andy…and all you other guys, too!

🙂

Meanwhile, here’s Infinite Sun by Kula Shaker via YouTube – Enjoy!

NOTE:

Yep, my website is functioning, but on only 2 cylinders. I find it interesting that my desire to blog has increased during the ‘Sounds of Silence’ stage and this further stage of waiting for fixes to be suggested and then implemented.

Jetpack tech assistance in the wp.org Forums is still pending, stuff is still messed up, but I’m back anyway.

Remembering the Children

May 22, 2022 / laura bruno lilly

Re: The Manchester Arena Bombing

Manchester Arena Anniversary Quote — For all the children who will not know

Poetry Shoutout: “In Brigantia” by Andrew James Murray

June 26, 2019 / laura bruno lilly

Good poetry meets you wherever you are then draws you into its world. Seamlessly weaving place, perception; revelation, inspiration. Touching both the mind and soul.

The poetry of Andrew James Murray does just that and his second published poetry collection, In Brigantia does not disappoint.

~~~

I prefer reading poetry in the deep of night, the early recesses of morning. I like to take my time and linger, savoring each line and nuanced word choice within the context of the whole of the poem.
Yes, I flip through a new volume upon first receipt, even skim a few lines, but ultimately, the hunkering down with a new collection of poetry is an anticipated event – date – I make with myself for some dark day, quiet evening or womb-like twilight.

Phrases to savor

“From this soil,
seeded with the dead,
beautiful things will grow” (from: In Brigantia)

“Our country is too small
for road trips.

There is nothing epic
about these squeezed shores.
Where are we to go
to find ourselves?” (from: Motorway)

“A dog barks itself
into tomorrow,
clawing back the shade.” (from: Nocturnes)

Regarding process

“Some lines come to me when travelling, such as with Railway Platform.
We passed through a station (without stopping) which, due to rain sweeping in, appeared abandoned, except for a guitar case no doubt left by its owner who was seeking shelter while waiting for his/her train.
I was thinking about how platforms are normally busy places of greetings and farewells, and maybe some of those could, somehow, be held in the atmosphere and tapped into to work as inspiration to creative people. Like the owner of that guitar case.
Like seeds growing in darkness.
That’s how my mind works! And that’s how that poem was born before we’d reached the next station.” – Andrew James Murray

~~~

In Brigantia can be found at Amazon and Amazon UK

~~~

Andrew James Murray is a writer and poet who is still firmly rooted in his childhood town in Manchester, England.
He has a wife who keeps him grounded, and four children who keep him young.
Among other things, he loves history and roots, books and writing, spirituality, landscape, music and the outdoors-all of which he can become a tad obsessive about.
He also tracks Great White sharks throughout the world over the internet, much to his wife’s consternation.
He can be found writing about anything and nothing over at City Jackdaw and at Coronets for Ghosts for all things poetry related.
Andrew is currently working on his first novel.

Andy's Insights from a Parisian

April 16, 2019 / laura bruno lilly

Reprinted here from Andy’s blog:

After Speaking With A Parisian

Surviving Revolutions and World Wars, Notre Dame’s spire has long been a familiar sight to generations of Parisians, puncturing the capital’s skyline for over 800 years.

Back in the 1500s, the culture that we had built in the West embraced multigenerational projects quite easily. Notre Dame. Massive cathedrals were not built over the course of a few years, they were built over a few generations. People who started building them knew they wouldn’t be finished until their grandson was born.

-Jamais Cascio

Maybe it’s hubris, but we expect our creative monuments, our works of art, to last forever. Fixed points in man’s timeline.
Last night I spoke with a Frenchman, a Parisian, who was in mourning, speaking of a devastating cultural loss. I began to think of iconic buildings whose loss would affect we British people similarly. And then, as a Mancunian, a particular building in my own city, regularly seen but perhaps taken for granted by me.
I struggled to make a connecting comparison.
Then, the morning after that conversation, I woke to a photograph and an idea that, within all of last night’s images of destruction and despairing, I had lost touch with: there’s always hope.

For You are my hope, O Lord God; You are my trust from my youth.
Psalm 71:5

longest night, Reflections during

December 21, 2018 / laura bruno lilly

Winter Solstice: a day with the least amount of sunshine potential; the shortest day and longest night; a time of reversals.

To me, the Winter Solstice feels more like the ending of the past year with the dawning of the true ‘new year.’ An organic New Year’s Eve, so to speak. What better time to reflect on the past year, letting go and easing into the ‘new year’ as each day from this point in time gains length.
With these reflections comes the announcement that this will be my final posting for 2018 with an undetermined first post date for the upcoming year. That’s just my convoluted way of saying I’m taking a blogging break!
😉
That said, let us continue.
In reviewing my Morning Pages* over this past year I realized it has been a full and satisfying 12 months. No family or close friends died or declared any horrific medical diagnosis, the selling of my folks’ house went smoothly and the settling of their estate is almost completed, we visited and celebrated with family members and friends throughout the year and throughout the country, and the scary emergencies we did encounter were accompanied by His ‘peace that passes all understanding’ as we walked through those life-paths.
It seems we landed in a junction of respite from several years of elder care, personal pain, disappointments, grief and such.
Fielding the good with the bad, several themes** emerged as well – often revealing forward movement on goals, desires, hopes and dreams; working through the ups & downs of life; grappling with deeper issues in living a purposeful life.
Why then this lingering sense of sadness?
Is it the darkness? The longer nights and shorter days? Grey black skies, claustrophobic fog?
Not really.
I relish this Winter Solstice evening – prolonged darkness, giving permission to hunker down, and delve into soul searching, validating this yearning to be still and listen to what the Lord through His creation and past events is speaking to me.
Then what is contributing to this heaviness, this disheartening sense of impotence in making a difference in life’s inequities?
Ah yes, of course. Events over this past year, worldwide and oh-too-to-close-to-home local happenings.

Parkland school shootings, Las Vegas, Nevada concert shootings, synagogue slaughter, humble town of Florence, SC massacre and on & on infinitum…
Manchester arena bombing anniversary representing terrorism in a free country with strict gun control.
Never ending hordes of everyday people fleeing their beloved homeland for a safe place to stay alive…Syrians, Central Americans, Africans…
Governments killing their own citizens in the name of advancing their own personal agenda.
Free world border ‘wars’ using displaced, desperate persons, families & children as fodder for unwinnable negotiations.
Increased homelessness in the midst of hardworking middle class professionals – and all the ramifications of undeserved shame while struggling to continue to survive in an ever increasing hostile American society.
Constant bombardment of Trumpian Temper Tantrums affecting everyday Americans (sorry, I don’t normally specify political opinions…please give me latitude during this Winter’s Solstice)

And yet, this is all not new…the poor have always been with us, the rich and powerful have always manipulated laws to benefit themselves, increasing their wealth and opportunities, to the detriment of everyday people, and, what of the ever presence of war – always with us.
1968 was a bad year – Vietnam War, numerous assassinations, student protests…Decades earlier, WWII, Hitler, Stalin, Mussolini, the Holocaust…
The world’s suffering is so personal.
It hurts.
And yet, I am reminded:

“God wastes nothing – not even our darkness”

*from which I am taking an indeterminate break also, after 28+ years of faithful jottings!
**my music, hubby’s new business, finding home, strengthening relationships…

For all the children who will not know – collaborative poem

May 22, 2018 / laura bruno lilly

For all the children who will not know

Laura Bruno Lilly, Andrew James Murray

~ 5/22/2017 ~

For all the children who will not know

the warmth of sunshine upon their cheeks;
the cold of dug snow-forts and candy-land castles.

For all the children who will not know

the slurpy free love of an old faithful mutt;
the drooly mouth kisses from kids of their own.

For all the children who will not know

the joy of youthful wanderings;
the joys of returning home.

Laura Bruno Lilly

~ 22/5/2017 ~

The flowers bloomed early
and were cut down by a cruel frost.
We all came together
– but at what cost?
For what was gained can’t be measured
against what was lost,
and those children will never know.

Andrew James Murray

a belated thank-you to my NOMA Dancer

May 16, 2018 / laura bruno lilly

“To everything there is a season,
A time for every purpose under heaven:
…A time to mourn,
And a time to dance…”
Ecclesiastes 3: 1, 4b

A child’s joyful abandon: Millie dancing before the NOMA Earth Tubes (photo, A. Murray, father)

Thank-you, Millie, my NOMA Dancer*

*My wish to dance in front of the NOMA Earth Tubes was first mentioned in a prior post found here. And fulfilled in proxy by Millie, my NOMA Dancer.

The Manchester Bee

May 9, 2018 / laura bruno lilly

My Manc Bee Badge on my Proud2Bee block

By now, my Manc Bee Badge is becoming a familiar sight to readers of this blog. I’ve alluded to the history and significance of the symbol, but never really wrote about it other than to link readers to its historical background.
In short, the worker bee is an emblem for Manchester, England symbolizing the city’s hard-working past. It was a hive of activity during the Industrial Revolution and workers were soon dubbed “busy bees”.
After the Manchester Arena bombing last year, it took on further significance as a public symbol of unity against terrorism.

northern manchester bee art russell meeham

Manchester Bee Mural, Koffee Pot Cafe – Russell Meeham, artist

The insects are an integral part of the city’s psyche: in representing its citizens’ character; in innumerable themed artworks scribbled and commissioned throughout its buildings and streets; and in a literal sense as a city devoted to urban beekeeping.
These bees are the gritty epitome of a warm, creative, yet down-to-earth community of over 2.5 million. Their history is not my history, but I strongly relate to this place. I’m not sure exactly why, but that fateful day’s event last year drew me in to this city and its people. And I can’t escape the connection I feel.

Manchester Bee, NOMA – A.Murray, photo (click on photo for related blog post)

“And this is the place where our folks came to work, where they struggled in puddles, they hurt in the dirt and they built us a city, they built us these towns…
And they left us a spirit. They left us a vibe. That Mancunian way to survive and to thrive and to work and to build, to connect, and create…”
from: ‘This is the Place’ poem by Tony Walsh

words to the poem, “This is the Place” by Tony Walsh, as read in the video above

Tag: Manchester (Page 1 of 2)