I was delighted to receive an invitation to attend the annual service for the Mayors of Wales, held at St John's once more. Last year, I was organising it. This year, sitting at the back with the church wardens. What a pleasure! It was all beautifully done. Stuart Lisk led the service as he had done on previous occasions, Monseigeur Bob Reardon read the Gospel and Archdeacon Peggy Jackson gave the blessing at the end. Stephen Wigley, Wales' top Methodist leader preached worthily of the occasion. My good friend Roy Thomas read a lesson in Welsh too. It was lovely to see several other members of the congregation too, tucked away among the congregation. It was a very ecumencial occasion, as well it should be, in celebration of our citizenship. However, I was not alone in being disappointed that the singing of both national anthems was omitted from the proceedings, just after the service and before the recession of dignitaries.
I learned later there had been a row about this at a late stage in the City Council - not just the rather gauche excision of the anthems from the service sheet, (in spurious deference to the Archbishop's opinion about national anthems in church services - elevated in populist imagination to the level of an ecclesiastical ruling) but a dispute about whether only the Welsh anthem, or both or none should be sung during the evening banquet at City Hall. The decision was taken to sing none, and that meant some Council members boycotted the event. This does nothing to enhance the citizenry's confidence in their elected members. The authority of our community leaders is weakened when they squabble so childishly.
Most people put up with, or actually sing the anthems as an expression of solidarity and shared identity. We are both British and Welsh at the same time. Simple respect for self and others should mean at least tolerating the singing of our anthems, whether you agree with their dubious lyrics or not, because they are part of the story of our togetherness in good and bad times, and represent good will towards each other and respect for the state of which we are citizens. There, that's got that off my chest.
After the service there was a reception with refreshments in St David's Hall, at which several clerical colleagues were also guests, much to my delight. Then we descended to an enclosure next to a temporary band stand on Hayes Island, to watch the arrival of the St David's Day parade and listen to the folk music, from a Welsh group, and from Breton visitors with bagpipes, and shawms, plus a dozen superb dancers in traditional costume - ah we should have more events like this with more folk groups from across the Principality. Anyway, there was more to come. Wonderbrass, Cardiff's superb jazz ensemble finally took the stage for another rousing musical session. At this point Clare arrived, having walked with the procession from City Hall, and my phone rang. It was my financial advisor reminding me of a home rendezvous for which I was now late. So I had to dash back and miss the rest of the festivity. Between us, we took some photographs. You can find them here
The day was crowned with a recorded broadcast of Max Boyce's recent 'Live at Treorchy' concert, replaying a famous recorded gig he did in the Parc & Dare Hall in 1971. And to think, we had to turn down tickets for this live recording, because we were booked to be in Kenilworth for Rhiannon's birthday. Glad we didn't miss it. We take our patron saint's day celebrations seriously, but it has to include some self-depreciating humour to do justice to the occasion.
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