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The church: The Cathedral and Collegiate Church of St Saviour & St Mary Overy, Southwark, London. For our previous report on this cathedral, click here.
Denomination: Church of England.
The building: The cathedral is tucked between the Thames and London Bridge station, and shivers every time a train comes into the western platforms. It dates back to the 13th century, though the nave is Victorian. It is built of dressed black flint and pale stone. Inside, it is light and airy, with a gilded risen Christ dominating the reredos. Behind that is a 1940s Comper window of Christ in Glory.
The neighbourhood: The area is dominated by the railway line and accompanying arches, some of which now house trendy eateries. The streets surrounding the immediate area are buzzing and multi-ethnic. Residential territory is not far away and ranges from recently gentrified terraces and squares to large council estates. Guy's Hospital, the Tate Modern and the Globe Theatre are close by.
The cast: The Archbishop of Canterbury ordained, Rev. Fr. Mark White CP preached, 54 other bishops (including exotica from Malawi, Botswana and Down and Dromore) rolled in, the majority in rochet and chimere ensembles. An assortment of other clergypersons processed, sang, administered the sacraments and sang at various points.
Service of Consecration, the Feast of Ss Felicity, Perpetua and their companions, at 11.00am. The new bishops were earmarked for Richborough and Brixworth.
How full was the building?
Packed.
Did anyone welcome you personally?
Hardly! The cathedral stewards I met were pretty stroppy and kept up a resolute diatribe along the lines of: "Can't imagine what you people are doing here without tickets, coachloads of you will keep appearing," etc. When requested to indicate whether we miscreants would be allowed in at all, they started up again. One elderly clergyman was allowed in to visit the gents, but was told he wasn't to think that he was then in, and that he must come out again. The lady stewards inside were altogether more civil. The people queuing to get in were not keen to speak to the lone stranger. Mothers Union, SSC and Forward in Faith badges were much in evidence out here, but only thinly dispersed inside. The person I sat next to belonged to a large group and did not return my grin, and was reluctant to move her coat from what became my seat. The Peace was difficult. I pushed myself upon them. It wasn't that they were anti-peace people amongst themselves. As soon as the Archbishop had glided out at the end, my neighbour turned her back on me and started talking loudly.
Was your pew comfortable?
Linked chairs, flaccid tapestry hassocks. Rows were too close for people to kneel without disturbing the sticks and parcels of fellow worshippers.
How would you describe the pre-service atmosphere?
Loud chatter amongst parish parties, seasoned with occasional braying as long-lost friends spotted each other.
What were the exact opening words of the service?
"In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit." The Dean had treated us to a series of instructions before the processions came in, and told us that we could photograph our pet prelates in the transepts after, but not during, the service. He addressed the matter of small children in some detail, and said that they would be bored by proceedings and should be taken out for their own benefit. Parents were under poorly-disguised instruction.
What books did the congregation use during the service?
A 28-page booklet printed specially for the occasion.
What musical instruments were played?
Organ and voice. The cathedral choir of men and boys sang the liturgy and anthems. Their cassocks were the colour of Penicillium mould.
Did anything distract you?
Lots! The party I was sitting alongside appeared to be up from one of the shires – thornproof suits (trousers up to the diaphragm) for the men, tweedy coat-and-skirt and velvet beret on top for the women. I was sorely tempted to ask them if they were with the Grafton or the Pytchley. The ushers were recycled at least twice in every procession, managing to lead one category of dignitary in/out and then return for another by cunning sneaking through the aisles and gaps between tombs. The Bishops Designate entered in purple cassocks with what looked like black MA gowns over the top as though the cassocks were in some way shameful. A ghastly flash of 1980s ante-natal clinic when the new bishops returned from a costume change in rochet and chimere. Both bishops are small men, so their chimeres were equally diminutive, the fabric stiff and new with all the gathers still crispy, giving a retro maternity pinafore look. The Bishop of Malawi appeared to sleep through most of the proceedings. The sudden appearance of the ubiquitous Ikea nave altar during the offertory. It would have got in the way of the bulk laying on of hands. The genuflection of a priest in the communion queue causing the woman behind him to nosedive as his leg shot backwards.
Was the worship stiff-upper-lip, happy clappy, or what?
Stiff-upper-lip, civic/national religion sort of thing. This service had the potential to be difficult, and also to be bridge building. The new bishops have come from opposite wings of the church. The new Bishop of Brixworth is an earthbound evangelical, married to a priest. The new Bishop of Richborough is a flying bishop and an Anglo Catholic. Proceedings were planted so firmly in the middle of the road that (for me at least) the service did not have the buzz of spirituality it might have gained by coming down on one side or the other. There was no swaying, little arm-raising, and not even the slightest whiff of Boswellia thurifera in the air. Many in the line-up looked uncomfortable in their costume of the day, some in cassock and surplice, others being forced to leave off their best tat for the morning. Even those in copes, chasubles and dalmatics had chosen the dingier specimens in their wardrobes. The Bishop of London, however, looked nice and spangly.
Exactly how long was the sermon?
17 minutes.
On a scale of 1-10, how good was the preacher?
7 – The preacher was the brother of the new Bishop of Brixworth, and a Passionist Father. He was the first Roman Catholic religious to preach in Southwark Cathedral since the Reformation and was warmly welcomed as such.
In a nutshell, what was the sermon about?
It was based on the Gospel, Matthew 28:18-end and was a roundup of what a bishop should be and do, including: leading his flock, looking after his clergy, knowing when to speak out and when to keep quiet, not to forget the majority of the population who are not members of the church, etc. He exhorted both new bishops not to become so bogged down in bishoply doings that they neglect their own souls, spirituality and destiny. There were no surprises and no funny bits.
Which part of the service was like being in heaven?
Singing "Come, Holy Ghost, our souls inspire" as we prayed for and with the kneeling Bishops Designate. Listening to the words of the Queen's Mandate being read by the bewigged Principal Registrar and realizing that all these prelates must, by definition, be discrete in their conversation. Slightly renewed hope in the fact that an ordinary working parish priest has risen straight to the episcopacy, without having to do pen-pushing and committees on the way up. Seeing the new members of the episcopacy, from opposite ends of our theological spectrum, embrace each other during the Peace.
And which part was like being in... er... the other place?
Finding that the words of another ancient hymn, "Be thou my vision, O Lord of my heart," had been "corrected". The outburst of noise which followed the exit of the primate was a bit of an assault on the senses.
What happened when you hung around after the service looking lost?
This wasn't that sort of gathering, and not being in possession of any sort of ticket, I knew that my luck had run out for the day and fled. Outside, I nearly knocked over a clerical peacock displaying with shovel hat, button-front cassock and briar pipe.
How would you describe the after-service coffee?
Didn't dare seek anything like that on the premises.
How would you feel about making this church your regular (where 10 = ecstatic, 0 = terminal)?
5 – though hard to tell after an event like this. However, I think one consecration is enough for the time being.
Did the service make you feel glad to be a Christian?
Yes. The sense of continuity and history and of being witness to something timeless were special.
What one thing will you remember about all this in seven days' time?
Those two tiny men kneeling before the Archbishop, the enormity of what lies before them, sadness that they will rarely see a congregation not on its best behaviour again; and curiosity regarding the number of sausage rolls, fairy cakes and cups of tea they will have pressed upon them before they retire.
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