30th May 2012
Photoset
The Shepherd of Beddingham
Beside a roundabout on the A27, just outside Lewes, is the church of St Andrew’s of Beddingham. I must have driven past it dozens of times over the years but never thought of visiting because I always assumed it would be too crushed by the big road that was only some yards away. Anyway, one day, after some aimless driving around that never seemed to lead anywhere, me and Queenie had a closer look.
St Andrews,in a way had been protected by the road. Because of where it was I don’t think hardly anybody went there; which might be why it was unlocked. Despite the constant surf of traffic in the background this was a very still place and inside the air was calm and clean - no dust had been disturbed for a long while. Followers of religious TV programming might just recognise this as the base of Peter Owen Jones, The Vicar of Firle. Memorably, on one of his shows where he tried to compare himself to/live as St Francis of Assissi, he tried to drum up business for this church by trying to flag down motorists. As I remember I think only one person stopped and that was because they thought he was calling for help.
Far more poignant than this was the story behind the stained glass window which was above the Lady Chapel Altar. On the night of November 29th, 1859, two men on a horse and cart were killed by the Eastbourne Express train. Apparently, at the level crossing, the horse got spooked and charged up the train track straight into the path of the oncoming train. According to accounts at the time both men, horse and cart were reduced to ‘over 500 separate pieces’. What was left of the men was taken to the local pub in Glynde, The Trevor Arms, and laid out there. The stained glass window ‘The Adoration of the Shepherds’ was installed to commemorate the accident as it happened at the start of Advent. The person in the foreground is the 16 year old crash victim Charles Moore who was himself a shepherd. He is holding his own arm and has no face as these were some of the injuries he suffered.
Tagged: Antique church furnishingsreligious stained glassBeddinghamChurch altarshrines
Source: churchantiques.com
15th May 2012
Photoset
The Right Eye of Edward Oldcorne
Heard this programme on Radio 4 the other day about Shakespeare’s so-called Theatre of Cruelty. Among the things mentioned was this fantastic object, the mummified eye relic of the Blessed Edward Oldcorne. E.O was one of the original poster boys for the whole Horrible Histories idea. A simple Jesuit Priest in extremely protestant 1600s England his big misfortune was to be in charge of the house that some Guy Fawkes sympathisers decided to hide in. This was Hinlip Hall which was famous for having the most hiding places of any mansion in Britain.
Unluckily, the Sheriff of Worcester was tipped off about this and he arrived at the Hall shortly after with 100 men. He had one stationed in every room of the house and simply ordered them to wait. 11 secret rooms were found - but with no priests in them. Then after four days, two priests emerged - they were hoping that if they gave up the Sheriff wouldn’t think there was anyone else.
The Sheriff carried on waiting. Four more days later Father Oldcorne and Father Garnet, the two remaining priests emerged hungry, dehydrated and ill. Taken to the Tower of London Father Oldcorne was tortured for 5 hours a day for 5 days. Not admitting to any involvement in the plot to blow up the Houses of Parliament he was simply found guilty of being a Jesuit Priest. An offence that carried the punishment of being hanged till nearly dead and then being taken down to be cut into quarters whilst still alive.
Just before he was hanged, his betrayer asked for pardon, which Fr Oldcorne readily granted, and he also prayed for the king, his accusers and the judge and jury who condemned him. The eye was almost certainly salvaged from his severed head by a secret sympathiser and beautifully mounted in a silver and glass case. As you look into the eye you realise that the last thing it ever saw was the executioner cutting him into pieces as he lay on the gibbet, half-strangled, while the crowd roared all around.
Edward Oldcorne was beatified in 1929, which means the Catholic Church believes he is in heaven. If a miracle occurs through someone asking him to intervene on their behalf he will then become a full saint.
Tagged: Blessed Edward OldcorneRelicsEye RelicAntique church furnishingschapel church chairschurch pewsGuy Fawkes
Source: churchantiques.com
10th May 2012
Photoset with 1 note
The Many Faces of Christ
Decent English Hippy Christ
Tennis Pro Christ
Scary Nocturnal Christ
Tagged: Faces of ChristAntique Church FurnishingsReligious Paintingschapel church chairsChurch pews
2nd May 2012
Photoset
Vertigo
Our latest job in St John’s, Chatham in Kent involved getting a Sanctuary Lamp down from its high position above the Nave. The only way we could do it was by balancing a very tall stepladder on top of the main Altar and then unhooking the weights, chains and all. The height wasn’t so great, only about 16 or 17 feet, but there was that moment one step from the top when the vertigo kicked in. It was the bit where I had to twist around, try and lift this thing that weighs the same as a pretty heavy suitcase off its chain and at that point the ladder quivered and flexed. I looked down and there was Mick and Kevin holding the base of the ladder and instead of feeling comforted, I just have this realisation of how they would be if I overbalanced, tumbled and smashed my back on the encaustic tiles below. Kevin, the fireman, would immediately go into professional mode with well practiced platitudes from some government manual, would make a neck brace from a section of pew and then call the emergency services using some special insider code. Mick, on the other hand, who is quite emotional, would probably start crying out “Oh my God! I knew this was going to happen! He’s paralysed isn’t he?!”
Both scenarios were equally awful. “I can’t do this…” I murmured, and clambered down. In an instant, the 18 stone Kevin took my place on the ladder, raced up it and claimed the lamp.
My cowardice bothered me. The next morning before anyone else arrived I resolved to climb the bell tower; this was the only way to reclaim my mojo and kick out that wimpy punk ass bitch ladder wobbler. The way up involved four stages. First one, up to the centre gallery with the rotten floor; second up the 25/30 foot vertical pigeon-filth encrusted ladder up to the trapdoor. This took a couple of attempts. The first time, I bottled it when I realised how stiff the trapdoor was and that one had to shove it all the way over whilst hanging onto the ladder with the other hand. When I finally managed this, I peered into the dark space that housed the church clock. It was rank and to enter it I would have to haul myself over the lip of the hatchway, my body dangling over the drop. The floor up there might be rotten or it might not. There might be a carpet of pigeon carcasses to sink my hands into. Maybe adventurous, high-altitude rats feeding on the dead pigeons.
I climbed down again. Then I realised that what I had to was physically the same as when I climb into my mother-in-laws attic and that wasn’t so bad. I climbed up very quickly, without ever looking down, pushed the now loosened hatch open and dragged myself up into the first tower chamber, all the time muttering ‘Grandmas Attic, Grandmas Attic’ under my breath.
From there to the actual bell chamber involved another small staircase and one last, very ricketty, very long ladder but I managed this with the help of my new mantra. I figured even a very rotten ladder wouldn’t completely disintegrate - a rung might snap but the side supports surely wouldn’t just separate leaving me to plummet another 20 feet onto the dank platform below where no-one would hear my screams. As I admired the bells which probably no-one had seen or rung for 20 years or more (we first quoted on this church 10 years ago and it had been shut for ages before that) I realised that if someone had said “You can have the bells if you want” I’d have to confess that looking at them was the very best that I was going to manage. Not that English Heritage, The Victorian Society et al would sanction such a thing - this was yet another one of those buildings that was going to have to be destroyed by arsonist vandals before anything positive could happen to the site.
I peered through openings to the streets below and felt pleased with myself. But the fear didn’t go. Even though I knew the floors and ladders were solid I still couldn’t shake the feeling that I was close to dying in some way. The wind that whistled around the tower seemed more powerful than anything man could muster. Why shouldn’t it blow this ancient structure down? Everyone said that the building was basically in a state of near collapse. At times it seemed as though the gusts of wind were making the tower sway. Looking at the sea in the distance I realised that to crack a neurosis like this I would have to get a job as a bloody steeplejack.
Back on the ground, I was thinking about how quiet the tower was, just like all long abandoned buildings, when our new team arrived for the day.
“What have you been doing” one of them asked.
“Just sorting things out” I replied.
Tagged: chathamvertigoAntique church furnishingsSt John'schurch bellschurch pews made to fitchapel church chairschurch reclamation
Source: churchantiques.com
26th April 2012
Photoset
Rich Man, Poor Man.
Santa Gertrudis in the middle of Ibiza is a small town where foreigners come to pretend that they are taking part in some sort of Balearic idyll. The houses look authentic, the surrounding countryside charmingly realistic. However, this is a place where to truly fit in you have to be two things. Rich and Not Spanish. We came here a couple of times because, frankly, some of the best restaurants on the island are here. But by our second lunchtime our exquisite olive oil drizzled focaccia was beginning to stick in our throats. The people around us evoked feelings of both envy and contempt - neither good for the digestion.
Scene 1: An American couple come in arguing loudly. Something has gone wrong with their children’s riding lessons because of her Pilates Expression Course and his Mercedes Chip upgrade making them forget what was happening. Suddenly, they make up. They high-five each other to celebrate their reconciliation after this desperate row. She says, “What shall I order you, honey?” “Anything, baby. Anything!” She starts to order him some kind of tropical fish. On toast. “Jesus! I don’t want to eat that! Give me the menu!” Moments later, they are both looking up websites on their iPhones and ignoring each other.
Scene 2: A man who looks like a scruffy Charles Manson seems to be building a website on an Mac Airbook whilst talking on a mobile in both English and German. Another hippy type comes up, the two embrace, lavishly. “Man, I just love you man!” they repeat to each other. I am informed by my wife that the new hippy is wearing APO jeans that retail at $4000. (How does she know this?) As we leave, Charlie is telling his friend that it is immoral to rent out luxury properties in some parts of London. Especially Fulham for some reason. However, it is good to rent out swathes of property in the North of England as this is “helping the people”.
Meanwhile, down the road, opposite the ‘Organic Supermarket’ is the ordinary local Supermarket. This is where the people who wait on the rich hippies come to shop. There are lot of items like the pictured ‘Chicken Carcasses’ packaged up at less than one Euro.
I suppose the idea of going away is a fantasy. And where one holidays, either long term or short term, is a place that is just for you. You are the only thing that matters. I know that this attitude brings benefits to whoever services it, but… True Hedonism is the Antipathy of Spirituality. And people who are so engaged with themselves can surely never be really part of humanity.
By the way, the graffiti reads 4x4 = Pigs.
Tagged: IbizaAntique church furnishingschapel church chairs4x4SpiritualityChurch pewsRevolutionCheap Holidays in other peoples misery
Source: churchantiques.com
19th April 2012
Photoset
For Jesus, in Jesus.
Churches in Ibiza are very simple and unadorned compared to those in mainland Spain, or even on Majorca. This is ironic considering the large amounts of money sloshing around the island. But then religion here harks back to an earlier, simpler time, before Jade Jagger and Pacha. The one exception is the Church of Jesus in the village of Jesus. If my name had been Jesus, this could have been a perfect spiritual and alliterative moment.
Inside what used to be a pretty basic fishermans church is one of the greatest examples of Renaissance/Flemish art to be found anywhere in Southern Europe; the Altarpiece of the Osona Family Workshop. Painted sometime in the 1500s by the Osonas it has 25 different panels showing everything from assorted Saints to the Ascension. Against a backdrop of plain whitewash the effect is quite spectacular, even or maybe because of the gloom due to the fact that the lights don’t work. We visited early in April and all around were clumps of starved, elongated grass in small pots. I’m assuming this is a variation on the ‘Green Easter Grass’ tradition that some Americans have where chocolate eggs are displayed on lumps of Astroturf.
Outside the main entrance was a large battered rock, set into the pavement. According to the gardener who opened the church for us, locals would announce their desire to be allowed entrance by firing their rifles into this rock. Must have been a bit distracting if you were already in the church having a pray.
Tagged: Antique church furnishingsIbizaJesusmadonna and childchapel church chairsChurch pews
Source: churchantiques.com
9th April 2012
Photoset with 1 note
Easter Sunday
At last, the end of the cycle. The privations of Lent and the sufferings of the last few days are over. The church is packed, probably as busy as if it was Christmas. There are young families, the very old and several gay couples. If you are gay you are probably not going to be Low Church and we are High as You Like. I do overhear one older matron saying “All these men are all very well but the Sunday School will be empty in a couple of years!”
There is much more of a sense of celebration today with lots of belting hymns that have ‘Alleluya’ in them. Father Andrew has an excellent sermon about the centenary of the doomed Scott expedition to the Antarctic. Scott’s last scrawled words: ‘All that will be left will be these rough notes and our bodies’ is almost parallel to the story of the early Christians. The determination which some saw as arrogance. The courage which some saw as stupidity. The desire to explore which some saw as Imperialism. At the end of the day good things did come about as a result of Scott’s sacrifice. Agreements and consensus over the Antarctic territories. Knowledge from the 32 pounds of samples that had been dragged back from the South Pole. Advances in clothing, survival techniques. And so on.
As I took an extra generous helping of Communion wine from the retired Sergeant type who was helping the Priests it struck me how apposite the Scott comparison was. Our Anglo Catholic Church is the acceptable face of tradition. When the massed strumming banjos of the Evangelicals get too much here is a chunk of Old School faith: Jesus as a sensible, stiff-upper lip chap who is both firm but fair, but wreathed in the smoke of ancient ritual.
The top left photo shows Father Paul with his chicken accessory after having organised the post service Easter Egg hunt; a lower picture shows some of the children getting ready to start searching.
Tagged: Easter SundayAnglo CatholicAntique church furnishingsChurch pewschapel church chairsreligious statuescrucifixion
8th April 2012
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Easter Saturday - Liturgy of the Resurrection
Christ comes back to life but there is a slight sense of anti-climax. My wife tells me that this is the wrong way to look at it. The Saturday night service is really more of a warm up for the big one - Sunday. However, it is still very atmospheric and much more interesting than normal. Things begin outside in the cemetery with a fire which we all gather around with candles. After some prayers we move indoors but not before one of the congregation sets her worship sheet on fire with a candle. The people around her laugh and someone reminds us of what Father Andrew said about the sheets: “We don’t have enough to go round - but don’t worry because they’re wrong anyway.”
Inside there are long silences in the Stygian unlit gloom of the church until, finally, as recognition of Christ’s return all the lights are thrown on as once. Bearing in mind that the church has just been repainted in dazzling £250 a tin whitewash and rewired with banks of lights using German headlamp technology, the effect is blinding. It is hard not to wish for the gloom to return, even with all it’s negative associations. There is no chance of that because we then surround the font and while Father Andrew splashes us with Holy Water, we repledge our allegiance to Christ and the Church. The statues and crosses are all back where they belong and there is a sense of normal service (as it were) being resumed.
Tagged: High EasterResurrectionEaster Saturdayantique pine stripped pewsAntique church furnishingschapel church chairs
7th April 2012
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Good Friday: Liturgy of the Lords Death
The darkest hour is the one before dawn…The statues and crosses that were covered in purple lenten cloth have gone. For once a year, all the alcoves and wall spaces are empty. As one of the churchwardens pointed out: ‘You can see how dirty everything is now.’ Amusingly, the church is still locked during the daytime even though there is now nothing left to steal.
It begins with our three priests prostrating themselves facedown on the steps leading to the Altar. It looks very uncomfortable and is a good start to the bleakest service of the year. This is worship filled with silences and prayer. The Passion of St John (sort of ‘I was there and this is what is was like’) is read which has the effect of moving Priest #3 (retired, but brought in for special events. I don’t know his name but he looks kind) and myself to tears. It just seems so sad that everything leads to death. All your hopes, plans, dreams. Only death awaits. Christ knew this and chucked it in our faces. His was the ultimate, Make it Count death. His last moment was someone jamming a sponge filled with vinegar into his mouth. The soldiers who had broken the legs of the other 2 crucifyees in order to kill them quicker (once your legs are gone, suffocation comes quickly on a cross) were sprayed by a mixture of blood and water from the already dead Christ’s wounds,filling them with awe. Meanwhile both Christ’s Mother and possible common law wife, Mary Magdalene were right there beneath Him to share the agony.
Servers bring out a crucifix and balance it on a prayer desk just before the Nave. We all line up and kiss the feet of the body of Christ. Except we all do this in different ways. Some just kiss the bottom of the cross. Some barely touch the wood with their lips. Some actually slobber. The cross is quite wet when this ceremony is over. More prayer. Then we take turns to kneel in front of Priest #1 who give us Holy Wafers. Again, this highlights differences amongst the congregation. Some obviously do not like the idea of kneeling to Father Andrew - even though of course they are not kneeling to him - and simply nod their heads in a curt way. Others are too old to kneel and kind of hunch their shoulders instead. I kneel properly, but get up awkwardly feeling like a pensioner who is taking out some spiritual insurance before it is all over.
Tagged: crucifixioneasterchurch serviceschristianityarchitectural salvagechapel church chairschurch pewsthe PassionAntique church furnishings
6th April 2012
Photo with 1 note
Maundy Maundy
In our church the service for this started at 8pm. I arrived late just as the foot washing was starting and felt waves of disapproval wash over me from the congregation. This is a very quiet reflective service and it’s not a good time to be the idiot who slams the door on the way in.
Three Granny volunteers came up to the front pew in order to be washed by Father Paul - Father Andrew’s second in command - with the large Baptismal Ewer. I personally would have felt embarrassed to either be washed or to do the washing. And of course that is the point of it. Surrender and Service. No money is collected during these Easter services and a lot of hymns dating back to the 12th Century and before are sung. The whole Maundy thing is arguably the most ancient part of Christianity with the Queen famously joining in with her own version - handouts of silver one, two, three and four penny pieces adding up to her age to a number of deserving subjects whose total also adds up to her age.
We came back later to the church as the above candles stay lit till midnight. (The Palms represent Christ’s happier times when his followers placed palms on the ground for him to walk on.) Father Andrew was the only other person in the church at that time which, tellingly, surprised us. It was a bit like “Oh! You really do believe in God!”
I was rebuked by Queenie for falling asleep. As she said, the idea of a vigil is to stay awake. But then she also pointed out that the original disciples all fell asleep the night before the crucifixion. At last, I was like a Christian of old.
Tagged: Maundy ThursdayEasterAntique church furnishingschapel church chairschurch pews
3rd April 2012
Photoset with 1 note
Palm Sunday
Since I’m in the business of making money from the church, I thought it would be a good idea, for once, to do all the Easter services. Maybe, even Maundy Thursday. Shown above is our own church, St Michael’s in Lewes. Being Anglo-Catholic means we are more Catholic than the Catholics and Palm Sunday is when it all starts to kick off in earnest. The service starts from a spot known locally as ‘The Magic Circle’, an ironic choice bearing in mind its Pagan associations, about quarter of a mile away from the church. The congregation processes from there, singing mournful hymns all the way back to St Michael’s where the stark sight of all the statues and crosses being covered up awaits - The God version of having a Testcard on your TV.
We then had a little Passion Play performed by the congregation, including my daughter, which actually pulled me up out of my normal state of mental DIY lists and vague car fantasies. I’d forgotten what a stark tale The Crucifixion is! All that cruelty, betrayal, hope, love even. I can see why Mel Gibson was moved to make a movie out of it. And what an irritating hippy whack job Jesus must have been to those Jewish Elders. If I’d been a Pharisee I’m sure I’d have been mocking Him on the cross. ‘Not so clever now, eh, Son of God?’ ‘Where is Dad right now? Turning the other cheek I expect, sandal boy! ’ And that stuff about the other crucified criminals having a go at him as well - a nice harsh touch.
The main pic is when we all came back to English Earth. The Sunday School group (headed by my son in yellow) brought in some lumps of earth with flowers inexpertly crushed into them by the toddlers.
‘What is that?’ asked Father Andrew kindly.
‘It’s an Easter Garden, actually’ answered Barbara on left, both archly and apologetically. Which is something I don’t think anyone from any other country could do.
Tagged: EasterPassion PlayAntique church furnishingsChurch pewschapel church chairsLewesAnglo Catholic
28th March 2012
Photo with 1 note
Spirit of the Blitzed
First there was the water drought, then came petrol. My business partner called at lunchtime today to inform me that the government had recommended all motorists to fill up their cars and Jerry cans. I immediately joined the panic buying queue at our local station and was transported back 11 years to the last blockade; by chance Nelly Furtados 2001 hit ‘I’m Like a Bird’ was on my car stereo, nicely counterpointed by the beeping horns of angry motorists. At the time I was sure that Steve had misunderstood this government announcement and was amazed to find out later that it was actually true. Imagine if Winston Churchill had told the British public in 1939 - ‘No need to worry chaps, but might be a good idea if you stock up on canned foods, grain, potatoes, bread. Might also be a good idea to get a small pig and put it in your shed… Just in case!’
God, how depressing. The Unite union say the dispute, that hasn’t started yet, is not about money. Although, strangely, right at the heart of everything is a demand for a minimum wage of £36,000. (Incidentally, shouldn’t an industrial action that could destroy the country be, ah, discouraged?) Meanwhile, every car owner, myself included, is determined to keep on moving, come what may. I heard about this possibly mythical poster boy for the pre-strike who apparently, after filling up his Range Rover, bought up all the petrol cans in the garage shop and filled them up as well. My own wait was somewhat protracted as the woman in front of me decided to combine her panic buying with the weekly shop - this took about half an hour, during which time cars backed up down the road for several hundred yards, effectively closing it off.
That heavy feeling of concentrated self interest was deeply dispiriting. I looked around at the people waiting and all seemed blind. Nobody was looking at anybody else. Just an awful fixed staring into space. The look of people who had completely gone into themselves. This is how it was when your Jewish neighbours disappeared in Vichy France. Or when those nice Coptic Christians down the road stopped coming to your Cairo Bridge Club. I suppose true Spirituality is rising above… The Fear.
I live 62 miles away from where I work and had an empty tank. What’s your excuse?
Tagged: panic buyingfuel strikespiritualitychurch pewsAntique church furnishingschapel chairs
24th March 2012
Photoset
Britains smallest Church?
This is the micro church of Lullington, East Sussex. Apparently it was normal sized about a thousand years ago, but depradations and lack of money have meant that it now exists in this truncated state. Instead of fixing that crumbling wall, sagging roof or vicious dry rot, the various incumbents simply shortened the building each time. Now there isn’t much left apart from the tower so I suppose it’s as small as it’s going to get.
Tagged: small churchesantique church furnishingschurch pewschapel chairschurch altarsreclaimed church furnishings
6th March 2012
Photoset with 1 note
Old men and heavy objects
Had this weird little clearance in the East End last week. A basement church belonging to the Coverdale and Ebeneezer Congregational Church which was underneath a 1960s tower block. This had just been reclaimed by the Ebeneezers (based in Nottingham) from a renegade Minister who had taken over the church as his own personal business. Sort of Pay as You Pray, gullible parishioners a speciality. The basement in fact was about one fifth church, four fifths super-pub complete with multiple draught beers, stage, dance floor and original 60s disco ball. This was obviously a big part of Reverend NoGoods finance stream.The church, incidentally, was mostly full of gay erotic paintings, prints, sculptures and, er, collectables. I should add, not as part of the normal fabric of a Congregational church but because a tenant upstairs had died and they had to store this stuff somewhere.
The challenge was for the two of us to get the pictured church font up the stairs and onto our van. We tried to use the Stannah Stairlift but someone else had already burned that out. In the end we separated the half-tonnish bowl from the base and rolled it up a scaffold plank, one agonising facet at a time. The tricky bit was half way up when we started to run out of puff but were also aware that if we let go, the thing would tumble back down the stairs messing us up. And then no doubt smashing to pieces at the bottom. Anyway, we did get to the top, both of our middle aged hearts pounding like jack hammers. After the back slapping, male bonding moment had passed the thought occurred to me - am I still going to be doing this stuff in 10 years?
Tagged: church fontbaptismal fontburned out middle aged guyschurch pewschapel chairschurch furniturearchitectural church salvage
