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
6th March 2012
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Beauty in the eye of the beholder
We sold this lovely silver plated hanging Custodial Pyx to a customer in America, recently. It is a marvelous thing, rather like a small fortress on a chain, which, when you turn the perfectly formed little key allows one to slide out a secret cylinder containing the host.
The customer was very pleased with it and sent us the above picture to show the Pyx in its new home. There it is, suspended above the Altar, behind the Vail with tassles.
There’s some kind of meditation on beauty here. Does an object become less valuable and less pleasing because it is hidden? Or maybe more so? Perhaps the significance here is that this beauty is only for the eyes of God. Rather that than the meanness practised by a millionaire who has a priceless painting in a vault. Or the man who keeps the women in his family locked away rather than risk anyone else seeing them.
Tagged: custodial pyxchurch siverwareChurch Altarantique church furniturechurch pewschapel church chairs
7th February 2012
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Rev
Had a job in Shoreditch at the Baptist Tabernacle there - taking out 1960s pews of a style that we describe as ‘Antiques of Tommorow’. I.e: Nobody wants them now. The good bit was working in Shoreditch, I’d forgotton what an interesting part of London it was. Charles Dickens meets 21st Century Super Yuppies. We had 24/7 security at our little church to try and stop people nicking lead of the roof and yet only a stone throw away were the steel and glass canyons of the City of London. Next door to us was St Leonards, perhaps better known as St Saviours in the TV show ‘Rev’. This is me trying to look like Tom Hollander having yet another crisis of faith - he could have forgotten his troubles at Kebab Zero opposite. There I had a fantastic Shish for lunch, lots of garlic sauce and chilli. Heavenly, to coin a phrase.
Tagged: Antique church furnishingschurchantiques.comchapel church chairschurch pewsShoreditchRevTom Hollander
5th February 2012
Photo reblogged from Love&Fluff with 45 notes
Seems like a good opportunity to post a Banksy picture in the week he was exposed by the Daily Mail as… Middle Class! Well, I guess that art training doesn’t come cheap and those Guardian friendly sensibilities are a bit of a giveaway also. However, can’t deny Robin Gunningham (if it is he) is really good at what he does.
Tagged: banksyarchitectural salvageantique pine stripped pewschapel church chairsstained glass
Source: loveandfluff
