Old Chapel Tenby Initiative

Another overcast day, waking up just in time for 'Thought of the Day'. After breakfast I went with Clare to the pool for her daily dip. Yesterday evening I took photos of my recent drawings and discovered that with Google Photos editing facility it's possible to intensify the lines and to some extent the colours drawn on paper. It would take a lot longer to do this by hand, assuming I had the right quality of coloured pencils to use. Admittedly it's possible to allege this is cheating, but it's my art work, I'm free to do whatever I like with it. If I wanted to make prints this would make for a better quality image in the end. It's all part of the creative learning process after all. And great holiday fun as well.

Neither of us felt like going out this morning. We had an early lunch and then went out, with the intention of walking on South Beach, after exploring side streets behind the town wall, but there were strong gusts of wind and this deterred us from going further. We made our way back along Upper Frog Street, a name which sticks in my memory as one of my contemporaries at St Mike's lived in this exotic location when he was sent to Tenby to serve his first Curacy. My attention was caught by a church building with a hanging sign outside saying 'The Old Chapel', a Christian bookshop and coffee shop. There are several eye catching notice boards on the wall either side of the entrance ,indicating that it's still a place of worship as well, but presenting itself as a far from conventional religious building. 

We went in and were delighted to discover a welcoming colourful decorated interior, whose south wall is lined with bookshelves, and other walls are lined with a variety of posters, banners and bric a brac. Near the door is a counter laden with delicious looking cakes, serving coffee and tea. The floor space is given over to sofas and armchairs in circles, like a collection of colourful comfortable domestic sitting rooms, arranged for relaxing and conversation. Above this warm and welcoming place of hospitality is a worship space, where a communion service is held on a Sunday morning and a preaching service in the evening, plus a ministry to children and bible classes, branded as 'The Upper Room'. 

A community of missionary entrepreneurs running this initiative describes itself thus: "We are a non-denominational, independent gathering of evangelical Christian believers who have received grace from God, and who aim to show grace to one another." Who they are and where they come from is another story to be discovered another time. I learned from chatting to a few people that the chapel was originally sold on for use as a children's soft play centre. When this didn't work out, it was sold to a small group of believers who wanted to reclaim its Christian identity, but in a fresh imaginative way. 

Whoever had the vision certainly has design and marketing skill to place at the service of the Gospel. This is such a lovely people friendly place. Volunteers are a mixture of believers and non-disciples of all ages. Apart from worship, teaching and hospitality, there's a ministry to children and a food bank operating at Old Chapel. Such a refreshing and engaging offer of Christian service, not bound by historical institutionalised norms but by desire to be authentic and creatively free according the the values of early Christian fellowship and mission.

As an Anglican missionary priest, with rare exceptions, I dedicated my life in ministry to work within an historic church in an effort to reform and renew its offer to the world. It doesn't seem to have worked, but I still don't believe it can be dispensed with. Its witness to stability, orthodox doctrine with high standards of disciplined critical thinking about the meaning, purpose and value of life together as human beings on planet earth, thanks to the teaching and self sacrificial life of Jesus of Nazareth, are indispensable as far as I'm concerned even if its institutions leave much to be desired. The Gospel message of Jesus offers space to return to biblical essentials and re-think in creative ways the way the call to faith in God is made. 

In the beginning the church was no more than a collection of self supporting groups sharing a new found faith in God. The Apostles helped these groups to network with one another and develop shared teaching and values, and a heritage of organisational structures evolved from those simple beginnings, adapting to different cultures as it developed. But this has not been the only way in which Christian community and organisation has developed. 

From early on there were independent thinking groups regarded as sectarian, heretical, toxic. Monastic and missionary communities developed with a life of their own without becoming disconnected from the mainstream of institutional life. In reality, the church evolved into an eco-system of communities sharing similar values and purpose. Not always good at recognising each other's authenticity however. 20th century ecumenism encouraged Christian groups to think differently about each other. Unity now doesn't mean uniformity, but demands respect and celebrating diversity. And how lovely it is to have come across one local creative expression of church in mission to rejoice in, not simply more of the same in disguise.

We walked back to Bryn y Mor after our visit, as Clare was feeling out of sorts. I needed to walk further, so I went in the opposite direction to the junction where we turned into the road where our apartment is located, then turned left and went downhill to reach the town centre by another route, making a circuit of a couple of miles to bring me back to where I started. I now have a better sense of the town's overall layout as a result.

After supper I made another sketch based on a photo I took of the view from up the hill behind Bryn y Mor with Caldey Island  in the distance. It wasn't easy are there was too much dark green in the scene and it was hard to emulate with the pencils I have to work with. But never mind, I enjoyed  making the effort again. First I must build confidence in having a go at a subject, regardless of how difficult it might be with so little technique to rely on. You can learn by doing, and accept with gratitude any advice you get along the way. I remember grammar school art classes, and learning to resent a teacher who was only interested in the few who had a flare for it and were quick learners. It was discouraging to have ones efforts ignored and never to receive comment, favourable or otherwise. It put me off doing any kind of visual art until I was old enough to take an interest in photography, thanks to my sister June's passion for it. In latter years I have spent hours scanning negatives and slides, building a digital library of lifetime's worth of her holiday pictures before she bought a digital camera. 

After an extra long walk yesterday, quite tired today, so early bed.

State of Alarm - Day thirty two

Another warmish, sunny if cloudy day to rejoice in, perfect for exercise while listening to a couple of albums sent by Owain. There seem to be a lot more snails appearing around the house, small and larger ones, all with beautiful shells. Time to start thinking about preparing Low Sunday worship and what I can offer by way of a sermon.

I was delighted to receive a phone call from Mother Doreen, ministering from home in deep rural Andalucia. She told me the Alcalde of her municipality had been out in person that day delivering mascarillas to folk in remote fincas. She's been busy giving remote digital support to St George's  Malaga and Velez Malaga congregations as well as Salinas where she is based. The chaplaincy has been without a locum priest the past two months, as the one who was scheduled to come fell ill at the last moment thankfully not with covid-19, and didn't want to take the risk. Today she's had her first request for a memorial service for a covid-19 victim, cremated with no funeral. There'll be more to come as time goes on and the impact of the epidemic is made known in a region where there have been over 900 deaths so far. Other parts of Spain have been even harder hit. Andalusia is one of Spain's poorer regions and the impact will be greater.

Long interregnums are now feature of the diocese in Europe. With impending economic crisis, more chaplaincies will end up without a chaplain for longer periods, with only occasional sacramental visits possible. It'll challenge lay people to continue in ministry and mission with scant support, the way it was for decades in underdeveloped rural Africa and Asia. It'll take some getting used to. 

It makes me think again about the writing of Roland Allen, Anglican missionary in China and East Africa at the turn of the twentieth century. He was the first to advocate voluntary ordained ministry. His thoughts about spiritual discernment and how the church propagates itself spontaneously regardless of how well trained are its 'professional' clergy, still commend themselves today. Such a pity his books have been out of print since the early 1960s. I'm only aware of them from my own study of the history of modern mission when I worked with USPG back in the 1980s.

Grass roots pastorate

A few weeks ago I was in touch with Fr Chris Reaney, a friend and colleague, since the days when I worked as Wales USPG Area Secretary in the eighties. He's been Vicar of Troedyrhiwgarth in the Llynfi Valley near Maesteg, and we haven't seen each other since his induction, nine years ago. So I arranged to meet him for coffee and lunch in Maesteg, and travelled up by train rather than using the car. As the day return ticket only cost me £5.50 with my rail card, cheaper than driving and better for my carbon footprint!

I went to the station by bus and missed the 10.18 train, due to a lengthy traffic queue on entering Westgate Street. If I'd known, I could have got off the bus a St David's hospital and walked half the distance to the station in good time. The trouble is extensive sewer repair works in the lower section of the street creating a choke point for buses and commercial vehicles accessing the city centre. Still, it gave me time to pop into a Market shop and buy some memory foam cushion insoles, as the ones in my winter shoes have worn thin enough to make them uncomfortable to wear. It left me with plenty of time to queue for a ticket and take the 11.18 instead.

The fifty two minute journey is pleasant, passing through a still verdant rural landscape after leaving  Cardiff suburbs behind. There are touches of autumn colour here and there, but most of the leaves are now darker, almost olive green, as a result of milder air temperatures and no frost. The train takes the main line westwards, passing St Fagans and Pontyclun, then turning north after Bridgend to enter the broad Llynfi Valley. 

There were once coal mines lower down the valley, but Maesteg was built on the benefits from the early iron industry, and is the main town of the old Borough, with an ancient Parish church, Llangynwyd, first planted in the sixth century on the hilltop ridge road, as with other ancient Celtic Christian sites in South Wales.

Chris met me at the station, which is quite close to the town centre. Just beyond the end of the line is an Asda supermarket so there's a large car park, to support both shoppers and park and ride travellers. A useful late twentieth century re-purposing of old railway properties, I think. We walked to the main square and had lunch there in a cafe opposite the town hall, an All Day Breakfast for both of us.

The town hall itself is a huge complex of well used buildings, with a covered market at ground level and a large auditorium above it, an outdoor market and the Town Council offices adjacent. The covered market is redundant since the outdoor market acquired a collection of retail units around its periphery, and is being re-purposed as a library. It's an imposing collection of late Victorian municipal buildings, substantially built in stone and brick, visible across town as they rise above the three storey shops in the main street.

We had much to talk about and shared worries about the continued contraction of the Church in Wales and its public ministry, in the Valleys as well as the city. He worries, as I do that the organisational changes which group Parishes into larger entities in which fewer full time clergy chase around looking after a smaller, more dispersed and mobile membership, will detract from the traditional pastoral role of being present and available in the community for all, knowing people and being known, whether church members or not.

Given our shared history, inspired by world mission through our relationship with USPG it's not at all surprising that we both see the present and future of the church based on the call to flourish in the grass roots of local community, growing its plans for witness, service and proclamation from the bottom up not the top down.

While we were in the cafe getting lunch, I noted how many people Chris stopped to greet and chat with as they came and went. His Parish is the neighbouring one, although he also works Maesteg town itself, and after nine years is a familiar local figure uo and down the Llynfi Valley. That's how it should be for an Anglican Parish Priest.

I've never doubted the need for structures to hold us all together and support us, but they're still too top heavy, to my way of thinking. Perhaps grass roots mission won't flourish again until much of the top heavy component withers away. It's possible this will happen, and one of the casualties will be the loss of its paid professional ministries. It would hurt badly. It would be tough getting there and recovery would be far from certain, but an entirely voluntary kind of ministry for most pastoral purposes would only take us back to where the church started from at the beginning. Would that be so terrible?

I was home again by four, and then did the week's grocery shopping before supper. The train I was on advertised that it would stop at Ninian Park station, fifteen minutes from home at the other side of the Parish. I was pleased at the prospect being home earlier, but the train didn't stop, it sped on to Cardiff Central, and had the usual 61 bus journey back instead. A programming error in the heads up display probably, using a Match Day train schedule instead of the standard one, most likely.

  

A face from the past on the bridge

Two services to take in Grangetown Parish this morning. I preached what I'd prepared at St Dyfrig and St Samson, but couldn't repeat this at St Paul's as it was a Family Service Sunday, with a dozen Sunday School children in the congregation for the entire service, with children reading, bringing up the offerings, leading intercessions, and one small boy assisting as a server. All was nicely organised, so all I needed to do was deliver a Ministry of the Word that engaged them. I found it impossible to prepare in detail, an didn't quite know how I could make it happen until I got to St Paul's and saw the congregation taking their places.

Neither the Old Testament nor the Epistle were easy to read, let alone make sense of, and the pair of eight year olds who read showed that, despite their good effort and confidence, standing and reading in front of the congregation. I introduced each reading with a brief explanation of what they were about. I didn't then need to repeat this in my homily after the Gospel, centering around the mustard seed and dutiful servant themes it contained. For this, I didn't need use my script, and it was easy to engage my audience. The last hymn was 'We are marching in the light of God', evidently a favourite as the number of people who started swaying with the rhythm of the music grew from verse to verse and joined in the clapping when I launched into it. 

It was a happy fun moment to end on, and people left smiling. I had both a banns certificate and a copy of baptism certificate to fill out afterwards, and was asked if I'd be willing to baptise the child of a church attending Indian family when I return next Sunday. A marvellous opportunity. 

A small boy came to the vestry door to thank me for an enjoyable service, and asked if I would come and be their new priest! I explained that I'm much too old now, and suggested that when he grew up maybe he could come and do this. Well, you never know what a small seed of an idea might lead to.

Talking of which, when I was out for my afternoon walk crossing the Taff bridge on Western Avenue, I was overtaken by a young man walking his white Scottie dog. He looked across and asked "Are you a priest?" "Yes" I said. "Were you ever at St John's church in town?" he asked. "Yes" I said. "I wonder if you'd remember me, it was all of ten years ago I came to church and talked to you a few times."

His face was faintly familiar, but then he's ten years older now. When he said his name was Stephen that jogged my memory. We had talked about basic matters of belief in God, creation and Jesus on a few occasions, there were things he wanted to know, was trying to clarify in his thinking on religion.

He then told me that he'd grown up on a rough housing estate surrounded by drugs and crime, but he decided he wanted out, something more, something better in life. I don't think I was by any means the first person to introduce him to the Gospel message, but he was still getting to grips with it. 

He said that talking to me then had helped him on his way in his journey of faith, to a new life as a member of the church. He didn't elaborate on that, but when I asked him what he was doing now, he said that he was halfway through a degree in Biology, I guess after catching up on his 'A' levels, as I believe he'd left school after GCSEs. He thanked me for those conversations which made a difference for him ten years ago. Then we shook hands and went our separate ways, the other side of the bridge.

I was astonished by this, that he should have remembered me after all this time, having played but a small part in the life of this teenager who didn't want to go off the rails. I often 'loitered with intent' in the church during the working day. The idea of advertising times when a priest was on duty available to listen to all comers didn't occur. There was a pattern of regular weekday worship, but if I wasn't out and about on the streets attempting to know people and make myself known, I'd hang out in church. It seemed in reality to be a more useful place to be recognised and approached by random visitors. That way I met many different people arriving from places far off and places near. Give the place time, and the place gives back to you in unexpected ways. 

This encounter on the bridge was such an unexpected surprise, a blessing, for which I thank God, giver of every good gift, from the bottom of my heart.

    

A day at the keyboard

Yesterday apart from a quick visit to the Super Sol for groceries, I spent all day in the apartment, but not because of poor weather. First, in the morning, I had an email from Amanda saying that she had decided to learn photography, and had bought a Sony HX400, the same as the one Rhiannon had for her birthday, which I'd recommended for its versatility. My response to her took ages to write as I thought I could give her some useful advice about getting started, and encourage her to take on the challenge . Her physical disability may impose some limitations, requiring work-around solutions for getting the kind of photos she wants, but the lovely thing about Amanda is that she will certainly have a go. It'll be good for us as well as for her. I hear that Rhiannon loves her new camera and has been using it too, and I look forward to seeing what she produces too.

In the mail last week was a letter from Bishop June inviting me to participate in a consultation about the future mission and ministry of the diocese of Llandaff. Former St Mike's staff member Stephen Adams, now Rector of Cowbridge, is running the process, so after Clare read it out to me over the phone, I emailed Stephen and asked him to send me the documents to work on here. These arrived next day, and after lunch I started working on them. It took me the best part of six hours, as indeed it should as the subject and Bishop June's questions were interesting. I daresay there'll be scores of respondents, people more active in everyday church and parish life back home than I am, but I'd like to think that have plenty of time to think things through and present a few suggestions might be worth the effort.

This morning, I made sure to get out early and take a walk uphill before doing a circuit of the Old Town and the port. I only went half way up the Gibralfaro path, but my main aim was to get a good view of the the port. There'd been turnover of big cruise ships since the weekend, but also a visit from Club Med 2, which is a large mass cruise ship with six sail masts as well as a conventional engine, to help reduce its carbon footprint. I remember seeing this in port last year. Alongside it on a quay next to the Melilla ferry was a large three masted barque, the Maltese registered Sea Cloud II, with accommodation for 96 passengers and 63 crew, German built at the turn of this century. The third sailing vessel Ann Bonny Uno, has been in port for a couple of weeks. Unusual to see three big sail ships along the same quay together.