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1175: St Philip and St James, Scholes, Cleckheaton,
West Yorkshire, England
Mystery Worshipper: Mrs Maniple.
The church: St Philip and St James, Scholes, Cleckheaton, West Yorkshire,
England.
Denomination: Church of England.
The building: The church was built in the 1870s, with a spire dating
from about 100 years later. The inside is traditional: chancel, nave and
transepts, all filled with Victorian pews. The altar has been moved away
from the east wall to allow clerical ingress and manoeuvres, but is still
firmly in the chancel.
The church: Standard C of E.
The neighbourhood: Scholes calls itself a village but is part
of the Bradford- Cleckheaton-Dewsbury-Leeds conurbation. There are black
sandstone terraces, new estates, and a few recently-built mansions with
gigantic garages. If you open your windows you can hear the unremitting
hum of the motorways in the valley below. The public toilets are boarded
up.
The cast: The Rev. Maggie McClean, vicar.
The date & time: 21 August 2005, 9.30am.
What was the name of the service?
Parish Eucharist.
How full was the building?
Probably two-thirds of the nave seats were filled.
Did anyone welcome you personally?
Someone said good morning as he handed me the news sheet and books.
Was your pew comfortable?
It was comfortable enough to sit on, but there was barely room to kneel.
Few attempted. The shelf was far too small for the books we were given.
How would you describe the pre-service
atmosphere?
Loud and bustling.
What were the exact opening words of the
service?
We had a hymn and then: "In the name of the Father, and of the Son,
and of the Holy Spirit."
What books did the congregation use during the
service?
Hymns Old and New, and a booklet from Common Worship.
What musical instruments were played?
Organ. There was a small adult choir, all in robes, some with handbags.
They sang pretty well and were able to hold their tunes for what little
part singing there was. Everyone else sang quite heartily too.
Did anything distract you?
The number of people wearing grey and beige was striking. There was one
child in church, and a few more frolicking in the church hall, who shot
in for a blessing at communion and then straight back to the not entirely
obvious attractions of the hall. The vicar's folk-weave chasuble swamped
her and just about hid the oatmeal cassock-alb beneath. It must have been
designed for a much larger person.
Was the worship stiff-upper-lip, happy clappy, or
what?
Struggling to rise above middle-of-the-road. There were two very competent
and unobtrusive servers in immaculate, dazzling white hooded albs with properly-tied
girdles. The smaller of the two carried the gospel book in and out way above
her head, with outstretched arms, but even then it hardly topped the vicar.
We sang "Happy Birthday" to some older people at the end of the
service.
Exactly how long was the sermon?
10 minutes.
On a scale of 1-10, how good was the preacher?
7 Nothing really stood out.
In a nutshell, what was the sermon
about?
The sermon was an exposition of the epistle for the day, Romans 12:9-21,
and centred upon making hospitality the special care of a Christian community.
In light of what went on after the service, the entire congregation must
have been daydreaming during its delivery.
Which part of the service was like being in
heaven?
The hearty singing of familiar hymns.
And which part was like being in... er... the other place?
First, the constant chattering of a covey of elderly ladies at the rear
of the church. Every time there was a lull or a break, they got going. They
were particularly obtrusive during the distribution of communion. Had their
conversation been interesting it might have been at least entertaining, if
not excusable, but it was all along the lines of, "Well, I never, and
then what did she say?" Next, the wine had a strange, sweet, vinegary taste to it. Does not Canon
B17 state that the wine must be "fermented juice of the grape, good
and wholesome?" I felt for the vicar as she drained the chalice. Perhaps
this was a one-off, but I suspect they were used to it, as nobody seemed
to recoil or splutter.
What happened when you hung around after the service looking lost?
I hovered at the back of the church for a bit as the regulars pushed past
into the church hall. I followed them and stood there, admiring the crocheted
mats on the stacking plastic chairs for a good three minutes. The regulars
queued for coffee and then sat down in groups chatting. I left, having lost
my nerve, despite needing something to dispel the dreadful aftertaste of
the spoilt communion wine.
How would you describe the after-service
coffee?
It was in proper cups, but that is all I can say.
How would you feel about making this church your regular (where 10 = ecstatic, 0 = terminal)?
5 I would if I had to if I had no car and couldn't commute.
Then I would thrust myself into the role of the difficult woman of the congregation
and insist that a wine account be opened with Hayes and Finch, and then
move on to campaign to calm the chattering ladies.
Did the service make you feel glad to be a
Christian?
Almost... just. Yes, of course.
What one thing will you remember about all this in seven days' time?
The palate-puckering communion wine. |
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