Arkholme Motte

When one visits the parish church at Arkholme in the Lune Valley, one is struck by the small but steep hill almost touching its walls. It is quite clearly man-made and is the remains of a Norman motte from the eleventh century. The church was built near by, demonstrating the close proximity between church and state in those times. How powerful that castle must have appeared to the Saxon folk in whose midst it rose. How feeble must that early church of wood appeared. Yet today, the castle is all but gone, a curious mound its only trace. Yet there is the church, functioning still.

Today, the state seems so incredibly powerful, resourceful, clever and determined. The church appears weak, puny, atrophic and ambivalent. Yet the day is coming when all human empires, governments, tyrannies and structures will be swept away at Christ’s return; then, His church will shine, ennobled and blessed by the long-awaited Bridegroom.

And the Spirit and the bride say, Come. And let him that heareth say, Come. And let him that is athirst come. And whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely. Rev. 22:17