This afternoon Jake and I found Guildford Park Manor - well the remains of the moat to be exact. Its in a field just beyond the edge of town. We walked on to the western boundary of the Medieval deer park which is in a slight valley running down off the Hogs Back. I was surprised how extensive the views were even though we were some way from the top of hill - across to a Box Hill maybe 12 miles away, a high point on the Downs where the River Mole goes through , lots of Middlesex, the hill where Crystal Palace was relocated in South London 20 miles away at least and the tall buildings in the City. Just like the walk along the River Wey last week, apart from the traffic noise, the landscape gave the illusion of being quite deserted and utterly rural.

On the way back Jake and I went up to the northern boundary of the deer park, walking along the brow of the hill round Henley Grove and then back down into the road where our house is. I spotted Sutton Place - Henry VIII's palace which the river Wey loops around where Jake and I had walked last Sunday.

Back home I tried a few websites to see if I could find out more. One offered the view that in Medieval times the enormous tracts of Royal parkland - from the Thames across to Farnham and Guildford had inhibited economic development and restricted population growth in Surrey. That does make sense when you look at the map - there is still a lot of open heathland in the western part of the county, some of which is used by the army for exercises and some of which is still parkland or forest. Some views, for example, the ones today from around the manor site highlight that aspect of the landscape.

Of course the more I find out about Henley Grove the less natural it appears. I was telling Marylin, a geologist, over lunch about the supposition that Medieval rabbit-keepers had to teach their charges how to dig burrows. She just didn't buy that as a theory. We also talked a bit about this site - in fact the rabbit story first came up as an example of the kind of thing that finds its way into the diary.

We were sitting next to each other at a lunch to celebrate Annie having crossed the threshold in her career as priest which enables her to preside at Communion. I should explain that Annie is roughly the same age as me and gave up her profession as a partner in a law firm to switch to this job.

At the service the deputy head of the college in Cambridge where she trained preached - apparently she often does the religious slot on Radio 4 in the morning. She came out with an interesting argument for the existence of God - God exists because apparently honest sane and reasonable people believe they have been called by God.

Its not a bad argument although I can see that it will appeal more to someone who is predisposed to accept the conclusion rather than reject it. A counter argument might be - God doesnt exist because objectively insane people believe that he talks to them. But suppose the sane and reasonable person still reacts to what they take to be a "call" even though they are fully aware of the relevant behaviour of the objectively insane, not to mention that the illiberal Right and all kinds of fundamentalist etc.

I think the whole phenomenology of "having a relationship with the deity" is an amazingly interesting - and massively under-researched area - although people are now getting into the first-person aspects of martyrdom.

Earlier this year I read a book on the phenomenology of the Holy Spirit. In principle The Spirit is as much God and The Father or The Son. But its also the facet that is more "in" the world than the other two - for example most creeds implicate the spirit in the conception of Jesus. There is some good medieval material petitioning the Spirit to manifest itself, really heartfelt and persuasive - I think maybe the French adopt this posture more than the English, although I can't think of a reason why.

I got more into this when I met a colleague at a course who worships in Guildford in a church which has a more elaborate vocabulary for manifestations of the Spirit and indeed for them it isn't really a decent service unless you get a few manifestations.

I mentioned this to Robert's wife, Hiliary, and her point of view (which may be more orthodox than mine) was that when people respond to a service the agent of the response is the Holy Spirit. I say orthodox, but in fact this is a bit of a pun - because apparently the Orthodox (ie Eastern) view is that the Spirit is in everyone to such an extent that there is a real chance of Utopian social transformation - which is pretty unorthodox in terms of the expectations of most congregations in Middle England.

I think my line is that if you belong to a church called Holy Trinity then you need to make the doctrine of the trinity as valid as possible. Regarding the the Spirit as some kind of e-mail system or text messaging system between the Father and the Son falls short of this standard as it denies activity and personality to the third member of the Trinity. One of the reasons I mention all this is that I have agreed to lead a discussion group of 12 - 15 year olds on this topic next week, so I need to get into the position where I have some interesting and credible things to say.

I got an invitation to meet David Beetge who is the Bishop of the Highveld and Lynne Coull's boss - Brian is giving a dinner for him on 19 July.

The Marriages were at the same table at lunch. Alwyn has just come back from the South of France where she has been doing a workshop with Roger McGough. I have secured Alwyn to read poems for me in the past and she does it beautifully - but I hadn't realised that she actually is a published poet.

At lunch Marylin said that her daughter was going to study Philosophy and Ethics at A Level which prompted me to say that I had studied the subject but Alwyn had actually taught the subject to undergraduates. Hugh bemoaned having had both a daughter and wife who were philosophers. He mentioned that one morning Alwyn woke up and asked "How many unresolved questions are there in the philosophy of dance?". I offered the thought that there must be a hell of a lot.

Whats the point you may well ask. Heidegger wrote: "It is absolutely correct and proper to say that "You can't do anything with philosophy". Its only wrong to suppose this is the last word. The rejoinder imposes itself - granted we cannot do anything with philosophy , might not philosophy - if we concern ourselves with it - do something with us?"