Today is the fifty first anniversary of my ordination to the priesthood, which a casually mentioned last week in St German's. After I celebrated the Eucharist this morning, Brian the organist played Bach's Toccata in D Minor in my honour, and there was choccy cake with coffee after the service. I was given a big slab of it to take home, plus a bottle of Prosecco. How lovely!
Last year something similar happened at St Catherine's, at a time when I was celebrating infrequently, due to covid restrictions. I was most grateful to be able to do so. I wasn't as well then as I am now. I wondered how much longer, given the uncertainty with which we lived then, how much longer I might be able to continue in public ministry.
Here I am, still at it, a year later, and since then not only have I got fitter, but calls upon me to plug gaps the ministry rota in Canton, and now in St German's as well, mean I'm as active as I was pre-pandemic. So it's a particular year I have many things to give thanks for, and I told the congregation of thirty just that when I started this morning's Eucharist.
It was the last Sunday for St German's Parish ordinand on placement, Ross, to share in the service and take his leave of us. Members of the congregation are fond of him and sorry to see him go, but the powers that be insist that there has to be a full time priest in office to supervise his learning programme, so he is moving to St Mark's Gabalfa, an unashamedly evangelical Anglican church which doesn't advertise when a Eucharistic celebration is scheduled for those who wish to receive Communion. It wasn't like that in times past that I'm aware of. I'm surprised this is acceptable to the Bishop.
It may be argued by the church council that there's no demand for this provision, and that other parishes nearby supply the need, but I'd not be convinced by such an explanation. Ross is troubled about having to attend a Sunday service and not receive Communion as it's been the foundation of his personal spirituality and vocation. There'll always be an eight o'clock at the Cathedral he can attend, and it's only a mile from there to Saint Mark's. Four months of abstinence from Communion during last year's lock-down was challenging for me and many others. By the grace of God we didn't lose faith, and neither will Ross. It's not unusual for evangelical congregations to celebrate the Eucharist infrequently, but at least publicising when it will happen is surely part of the church's welcome to all comers. What is happening to the Anglican via media of Word and Sacrament, I wonder?
It was twenty to two by the time I got home for lunch again this week, but then I did linger chatting for a long time again. I learned today that the regular Monday evening Mass is suspended for several months, as the Royal Welsh College of Music and Drama is booking the church and hall five days a week, afternoons and evenings for rehearsals of musical and dramatic events that are part of the College's teaching year. It's excellent news for St German's, which is one of the best buildings acoustically for live performance, and used for broadcasts because of this. Good for the bank balance too!
In my time as Rector of Central Cardiff, St Teilo's Parish Church provided rehearsal space for the College around the year, especially when the College buildings underwent a major revovation. After completion, the arrangement lapsed as the College had enough space in-house for most of its programme. St Teilo's couldn't pay its way. A couple of years ago it was given over to a church planting group from Holy Trinity Brompton for work among un-churched young people and students in the city. It's been re-branded Citizen Church, which means its identity as a church been dissociated from its Parish territory. In effect, it's now an eclectic congregational church, competing with others of the same kind. I have no idea if it's successful or not, or how many genuinely un-churched people have joined its ranks, as opposed to religious consumers exchanging one brand of evangelical congregationalism for another. Time will tell I suppose.
Meanwhile similar projects are happening in Anglican dioceses all over Britain, and this has led to the rise of a 'Save our Parishes' campaign from concerned churchgoers who see a tried and tested pastoral model being abandoned without justification in favour of an experimental kind of church organisation which may not always work as hoped for. Context is everything, and at present all churches are experiencing decline and seem to be facing extinction. A sign of the times we live in, but who knows if this is a permanent state of affairs or not? After all, it's happened before in church history.
Experiment by all means, but let old irrelevant institutions die their own death, as they do when the population is totally displaced, rather than kill them off by episcopal edict, so to speak. To kill them off could have unintended consequences. People may not attend a Parish church, but it may still remain part of their identity and sense of community in a populated place, something they look to, but take for granted until it disappears irrevocably. It's a difficult balancing act, but I can't say I'm happy. Dioceses are keen to appoint specialists and experts to manage every aspect of church life and missions. This happens while the numbers of parish clergy are being reduced. It doesn't make sense to me.
At the end of our kitchen table, since last night, a muslin bag full of stewed blackberries and apples has been suspended from a stool, straining out liquid to be turned into jelly or syrup depending on how it turns out. Once the straining was finished, we took turns to press the residue through a special sieve to remove the pips and produce a paste Clare calls a 'cheese', which needs a little sweetening but has a lovely fruity flavour. It's good with ice cream, on bread, and can be used to fill tartlets. Altogether two lots of four jars of each product from four pounds of blackberries and crab apples. Very satisfying!
Much to our mutual delight, this evening's broadcast of 'Antiques Roadshow was from Dyffryn Gardens. One of the exhibitors of a family heirloom was Robert, one of the St German's choristers. That was a real surprise. I planned to do some more play writing, but ran out of hours in the day. I can have a good run at it tomorrow and Tuesday however, now that I have two days free at the beginning of the week.
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