For reasons best known to others, I received word recently that the Senior Common Room of St Chad’s College, Durham – one of my almæ matres – had invited me to join its ranks. Naturally it is a great honour; naturally I indicated that if elected I would accept; naturally I have accepted. The Principal has very kindly expressed the hope that I might appear from time to time at High Table, so prepare yourselves for future columns written on the 14.30 from King’s Cross, with an overnight bag and a rolled-up gown stuffed into the luggage rack.
11:00 AM
Sons of St Chad: mischievous memories and green scrambled eggs
Chad and Cedd both belong to the procession of missionary saints whose lives and legends are intertwined with the story of Christianity in northern England. Although they ended their days further south – Chad as Bishop of the Mercians and Cedd as Bishop of the East Saxons – they were both educated under Aidan at his monastery on windswept Lindisfarne. A generation after them came Cuthbert, around whose shrine Durham grew.
Serenhedd James

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