I HAVE known many places in my life that I’d call holy. To pray in Bemerton Church, near to where George Herbert lies, to walk the Shropshire hills, to kneel within the cell where Maximilian Kolbe was imprisoned before his execution by the Nazis — all these have silenced me and reorientated my heart towards God. The one place, nonetheless, that stays in that heart is Bede House, in Southwark Park Road, south London.
Bede House is a community that, perhaps unknowingly, lives the Magnificat. It lifts up the common-or-garden, ignores the exclusions of the proud, and fills the hungry and lonely with good things. Doing this isn’t easy with low financial resource and only a volunteer community of helpers, and in a culture that encourages us to upturn the song of Mary by putting down the delicate to make us mighty, and to get the fitting seat on the table of power.
Bede House provides a protected and imaginative day centre for individuals with learning disabilities, and folks who’ve suffered domestic abuse. I even have met people there for whom life has been one huge and painful obstacle, individuals who have been mocked as children, avoided as adults, forgotten in old age. For some there, simply to get through a day, practically speaking, is actually difficult: work isn’t offered to you; and lots of don’t know the way to seek advice from you — and in order that they don’t. Once in Bede House, though, individuals are valued, encouraged, and celebrated for who they’re and what they bring about to the entire.
For those that scoff on the word “inclusion”, all I’d ask is to check out its beauty when it isn’t used as a political token, but is made a human reality, where the scarred and the scared, the ignored and the frighteningly vulnerable, are seen and cherished for who they’re, and never avoided or ridiculed for what they usually are not.
IF HOLY places are proved by just a few miracles, Bede House isn’t wanting them. Once confidence is built up there, some guests begin to do looking for the elderly in the realm, or work in a charity’s shop or office; some learn to grow vegetables, and help at foodbanks. All of them learn latest skills, make latest friends, and learn the way to stay healthy.
There is a lot misunderstanding about learning disabilities — many individuals confuse them with mental-health issues. The love that values those whom the world so often looks past or through is a holy love, and where it dwells it makes a holy place. I even have sat there in tears, and I even have laughed with a deeper joy. My heart has needed each, and I’m grateful to the amazing community of Bede House for what they achieve against all the chances. It is holy for me, since it has taught me that one of the vital necessary things you’ll be able to do on this earth is to let people know that they usually are not alone.
The Very Revd Dr Mark Oakley is Dean of Southwark, and Canon Theologian of Wakefield Cathedral.
