Busy Ash Wednesday

A beautiful day with sunshine, clear sky, no wind, and the temperature hovering around 20C. I rose early and sang a birthday greeting to Rhiannon on WhatsApp before getting up for breakfast. It turns out that it's also Mother Frances' birthday, and that of Craig, one of St Andrew's 'swallows' who has served me at the altar since I found out he's from the Black Country Anglo-Catholic Parish of Kingswinford, not far from Halesowen where I was Team Rector in the eighties.

Then I walked to St Andrews to celebrate the Eucharist of the day. Father William joined me, assisting at the altar and reading the Gospel. There were twenty one of us. The first Lenten bible study was scheduled for a time after people got their coffee and cake, and caught up with their friends. I distributed all the study sheets Caroline had photocopied for me, but only two people were able to stay on to discuss Psalm 51 with me. Nevertheless, it was a lively and interesting discussion for three quarters of an hour. 

I wonder if a Wednesday morning is really the best time for this, or if there is a viable alternative time. Maybe people are actually happier with reading the study material for themselves, especially as my weekly homily serves as an introduction to the session. We'll see how it develops from here.

I  was late cooking and eating lunch when I returned, but still had some time to work on Sunday's sermon before driving up to Alhaurin for the second service of the day at six, for which there were eleven of us. We sat on benches arranged in a semi-circle in front of the altar. It works nicely for a small number of people. The microphone that's needed when there's a much larger congregation had to be disconnected as the connecting cable's insulation had fractured, leaving the device intermittently making a loud distracting buzz. Just as well we didn't need it.

The sun had just set as I drove down the switchback of a mountain highway back to Fuengirola on a forty minute slow journey, not just thanks to speed limits but my own caution. I had forgotten quite what a steep and winding road this is. It will take several more trips up and down the mountain. Alhaurin el Grande is a thousand feet above sea level. By the time you reach Mijas Golf course on the maritime plain, to follow the rio Fuengirola to the coast, your ears are popping. I was quite tired when I reached the house, just in time for the Archers and supper, and needed a half hour's walk afterwards to stretch my legs and clear my head. 

Ashley called as I was setting out and we chatted as I strolled. Then I called Clare and found she was still chatting with people at St Luke's where she'd gone for the evening Eucharist. We talked again later when she got home, and I heard reports of the current discussion about the desirability of welcoming a church planting expert to establish a base at St Luke's to work on fresh initiatives in ministry to young people. Evidently there are fears there will be a takeover of the building that will lead to a complete loss of its Catholic Anglican heritage, much as happened to St Teilo's under Bishop June. I feel confident Mother Emma is capable of negotiating a compromise agreement and sticking to it, as long as Bishop Mary is equally clear about supporting this. 

St Luke's has a century of Anglo Catholic urban missionary history behind it, but is much depleted and won't be able to pay its way much longer. During the pandemic the building was shared with one of Cardiff's two Romanian Orthodox congregations. This no longer happens, but it showed what's possible with a modicum of good-will on all sides. I wonder what kind of research has been done to establish  there's a need and an opportunity to be taken in this part the city. 

Evangelical outreach initiatives can and do attract people to form an eclectic congregation. As St Luke's did in its heyday. The Victoria Park area isn't the easiest place for parking at the best of times even if it is well served by buses. At least St Teilo's is well placed in a largely student area, across the railway tracks from the University Campus. Can the same be said to exist in Canton as it rapidly gentrifies? It's true there's a growing number of first time home buyers and young families in the vicinity, which the church needs to reach out to in order to secure its future. This is a moving target however, as turnover in jobs and the housing market don't necessary result in longer term commitment to this local church. It's a big and risky decision, for the host community and for those behind the initiative under discussion.

Remembering Pauline at St John's

Another duty-free Sunday meant that I could walk into town this morning and attend the Eucharist at St John the Baptist City Parish Church, and commiserate with old friends in the congregation at the loss of Pauline Grainger, one of the stalwarts of St John's over the past forty years. She was the same age as me, and was active in the church's ministry of hospitality, sidesperson, church warden on occasions. Most important for church life was her role in developing the church Tea Room in the choir vestry from its tentative beginning, under my predecessor Mac Ellis, to a properly equipped, not for profit enterprise run by teams of volunteers, open six days a week under her quiet guidance.

She was intelligent, versatile and creatively gifted, and could have gone to university, but when she left school, she trained as a Midland Bank clerk, working down the Docks and in the city centre. Her dad ran his own garage and car dealership, so Pauline acquired her sound business sense at home. She found a spiritual home at St John's when the renowned Canon Edwin Davies was Vicar. She understood his vision for church in the marketplace and spent much of her life putting it into practise. She loved singing in various choirs, and ended up running one of them 'Oriana' which would put on a Christmas fundraiser in church every December. Although she'd occasionally sing in the church choir, she could usually be found on Sunday mornings near the door, welcoming people and giving out books. 

For the past five years she'd lived with bone marrow cancer, but none of the treatments, including trialling the latest experimental therapies were able to do more than slow down its progression. Yet, she remained actively engaged in St John's life until just after I returned from  Spain, when she had a stroke. Even so, two weeks before her death, she was brought to church in a wheelchair, in effect saying goodbye to the people and place she took to heart and served for so many years. She'd asked at the onset of the final crisis if I could take part in her funeral with Sarah the outgoing Vicar, when wasn't expected to last quite so long. Sadly, it happens on 6th August, four busy days after I arrive in Montreux. I couldn't even fly home after next Sunday's service, as I'm up at Villars for a service at six, too late to travel. I've written a tribute to her and sent it to Sarah to use in the service as she thinks fit.

Without a little research, it's impossible to say exactly how much money was raised over a twenty year period by the Tea Room but it was certainly a six figure sum, enough to contribute substantially to the organ restoration fund, and pay for a complete interior decoration of the church. A couple of dozen volunteers each week helped out with cooking, serving, washing and clearing up, Pauline among them, when she wasn't visiting the Cash and Carry shopping for supplies. She was one of those quiet natural leaders who don't feel compelled to be forever up-front, but are content be with and among people to guide and encourage. A marvellous example of the kind of lay ministry which enables the church to live and fulfil its purpose, with or without sufficient clergy. She will be greatly missed by so many people from different walks of life. I'll miss her, both as a good friend and partner in the mission of an outstanding church in the marketplace. May she rest in peace.