Synod of Aycliffe

I called at the pleasant old church of Aycliffe in the County of Durham last month in the summer. It was late afternoon and we did not expect to find the church open, which is a good job. Yet there was plenty to admire from without. Aycliffe village and its pretty church has been overshadowed by Newton Aycliffe, its larger, modern neighbour. Despite this urban sprawl on its doorstep, Aycliffe’s church remains a quite and undisturbed place, a backwater, an arcadian oasis. In contrast, the Anglo- Saxon Chronicle for the year 782 reports:

In this year Werburh, Coelred’s Queen and Cynewulf, Bishop of Lindisfarne died. And there was a synod at Aclea

-Acleae being the Old English name for Aycliffe. A synod, indeed! This is a large gathering of church leaders to discuss some important and pressing question. Synod is the word used to describe the United Reformed Church’s regional assemblies and the Church of England’s legislative body. Medieval and early modern synods, however, were less regular, and therefore grander affairs. Yet the issues discussed at Aycliffe in 782 I cannot trace. My usually helpful Oxford History of the Christian Church and the Oxford History of Anglo-Saxon England fail to offer any help whatsoever. Thanks for nothing, Oxford University Press. Another synod was held in 789, and nothing I can find on that, either. Was it a doctrinal problem? Ethical? Social? God knows. Yet here, in this quiet place, important conversations were held and decisions made.

Where did you first hear the call of God on your life? When did you first become aware of your sin and Christ’s love for you? Where did you first learn that the Lord Jesus died in your very own place? Such locations are of little import to anyone else, but they are special to us; it is there that heaven met earth. There, rays of sunshine pierced the thick gloom; angels rejoiced about events which happened on that spot, over which mortals pass or lounge.