As I drew up to Billingsley Church yesterday, I noticed a motor bike outside. Now the Bishop of Hereford is a biker so my first reaction was panic was that he was doing an unannounced inspection of the church. But on looking closer, the bike didn’t look like his Harley Davison. On entering the churchyard, I saw a man of a certain age (OK, my age), sitting on a bench with a flask and a sandwich; we greeted each other and he asked if it was OK for him to be there. Of course it was. When I had finished in the church, I went back out and we chatted further. He enjoyed going round churches on his bike; he had a booklet produced by a tourism group on Shropshire churches and was using this as a guide. He liked to visit one church on his bike trip. He complimented me on how well kept the church and the churchyard were, what a lovely spot it was for a bench to enjoy the tranquillity. Then he said words I often hear; “I’m not a religious man, but….”. Being in the churchyard, next to the church, was feeding him spiritually. Even though he might not want to use the word “God”, I suspect his experience was similar to my experience when I kneel in prayer before the altar at a church as I prepare for a service. Perhaps he was closer to the Kingdom of Heaven than he might realise.