Michael Hurley

Good morning. You’re listening to this, so the chances are you’re not on holiday. You may be enjoying a staycation and devoted to early-morning radio, even when you don’t have to go to work; but for many Brits this is the peak season for getting out of the country, and indulging the luxury of a lie-in, as the summer loosens our usual routines. I really feel for those whose holidaying plans have been disrupted recently by travel companies collapsing into bankruptcy. Holidays are good for us, psychologically and physically; and though it’s less often noted, spiritually too. In which context, it’s worth remembering those countless other people around the world for whom they are simply an impossibility. The word holiday comes from the Old English and literally means “holy day”; and in a colloquial sense, many of us continue to think of our holidays as something sacred. But the old Christian holy days meant more than just time off work. They included formal worship, processions, pilgrimage. Their moods varied – from fasting and mourning, as on Good Friday, to feasting and celebration, as at Christmas or a saint’s day – but they all had a definite religious focus. A world away, in other words, from pina coladas on a sun-drenched beach, the cliché contemporary breakaway that’s focused instead on personal pleasure. That said, supposedly secular forms of escapism can sometimes offer spiritual nourishment too. J. R. R. Tolkien made the point that escaping from the immediate demands of your life can take very different forms. Whereas we might deplore the military deserter who abandons the fight he ought to face, Tolkien says, the flight of the person who’s been falsely imprisoned might be courageous and good. Reading certain works of fiction can, he thought, offer that positive sort of escapism. So too, it might be argued, can a beautiful walk, an intimate conversation, laughing with friends. Imaginative flights of all sorts grant glimpses of truth and goodness, refreshment for our souls. Andy Burnham has been criticised by some for taking a holiday this week – just six weeks after taking office. But his escape with his family on Monday may well provide him more than leisure, in the sense of doing nothing. His flight from Downing Street might, as Tolkien understood it, offer the kind of freedom that’s positively enabling. Whimsically, given that he’s Britain’s first Catholic prime minister, I like to think he’ll spend at least some of his holiday plotting a revival of merry old England’s medieval holy days. More seriously, and leaving all party-politics aside, perhaps everyone who loves this country should hope that time relaxing with loved ones will nourish his soul as well as his mind and body. There will surely be work requiring moral leadership awaiting him on his return.