Country diary: A three-day perambulation around my own parish | Simon Lockett

I was sitting at my desk again, with the dull hum and the blue glow of the screen. It seems that every occupation traps people at their desk, and being a vicar is no different. But I wanted to resist, and it happened to be the 800th anniversary of Saint Francis of Assisi’s death. With Jesus of Galilee as inspiration, Saint Francis was known for his vow of simplicity, his love of the Earth and his critique of the wealth accumulated by the religious elite at the expense of the poor. He was also horrified by the Fifth Crusade, so he travelled to Egypt, hoping to make peace.

Francis also walked the walk, as it were, sleeping in caves in the Umbrian hills, taking nothing with him. No sitting at the desk for Francis. So I decided to do the same, spending three days walking the bridleways, holloways, footpaths and country lanes of the Golden Valley, speaking to people along the way. My sanctuary for the night was one of my parish churches – Madley, Tyberton, then Peterchurch, with its very welcome underfloor heating.

The conversations were rich. People love Saint Francis because of his love of animals. Some found his actions, such as disrobing before a bishop – a sign of his rejection of church corruption – “extreme”. Thomas, a young farmer, challenged me when I said Francis’s rejection of wealth inspired me. Thomas spoke of the importance of “the posture of the heart” towards wealth – that riches can be used for good. The children in the primary school loved the story of Francis taming a wolf.

But the conversation that stayed with me most took place looking over the valley, with Bill, a businessman out walking his dog. We chatted about Saint Francis, and he bemoaned the culture that was taking hold in his business. His wish was for a Franciscan simplicity. Instead of a company that cherished belonging, community and purpose, one that was relational and people-oriented, it had become full of policies, programmes and technique. Simplicity had given way to complexity.

I walked on through an oak wood, buzzards mewing overhead, a complexity of relationships that had led to simplicity. Ecology and Saint Francis have much to teach us.