Where Moth and Rust Doth Corrupt
It was good to recently visit the Church in which I regularly worshipped before training for ordination at Chichester Theological College.
St Wilfrid's Harrogate is an impressive edifice by any standards. The subject of John Betjeman's poem 'Perp. revival i' the north', it's regarded as one of Edwardian architect Temple Moore's finest works, and its grandeur surpasses that of many a Cathedral. Built on a hill to the north of the spa town, spacious, light and airy, it speaks of the glory and majesty of God and remains, as was always intended, a beacon of Anglo-Catholicism.
Many years ago, it was to St Wilfrid's that I ventured one Ascension Day evening - abandoning my own beloved middle-of-the-road Parish Church of Christ Church, Harrogate - to sample what I had heard described as 'High Church' worship. There I discovered the beauty and power of High Mass and began to encounter the riches of the Catholic faith. I was well and truly 'hooked'! St Wilfrid's soon became my regular place of worship, and it was as a card-carrying Anglo-Catholic that I set off on the road to ordination.
St Wilfrid's boasted a very fine organ - a large three manual instrument built by Harrison and Harrison of Durham, housed in the north transept and approached by a dramatic stone staircase modelled on that at Hexham Abbey. Built for the generous acoustic and with particularly heavy diapasons and fiery reeds, this instrument had a mighty roar, and it was my joy and privilege to play it from time to time.
Having a rare opportunity to re-visit St Wilfrid's for Sunday Mass, I wasn't sure what to expect. I knew that its liturgical tradition has been not only preserved but further advanced, but I was concerned that the musical tradition may have been lost, the congregation depleted and that as with so many church visits, this would be a sad encounter with 'faded glory'.
I'm pleased to say that this certainly wasn't the case - at least not in the ways that really matter. The congregation was incredibly friendly and probably amongst the most welcoming I have ever encountered. Though perhaps a little 'fussy' for my personal taste, the solidly Catholic liturgy was well executed, the choir sang extremely well and there was a real sense of our worshipping God in the beauty of holiness. As a worshipping community, St Wilfrid's is clearly a faithful and living church, confident in its Catholicism and proud (in a healthy way) of its tradition.
Sadly, however, there were some signs of decline in the physical state of the building. The stonework - most especially the floor - is in need of major restoration; the lighting (especially in the sanctuary) is - certainly by modern standards - rather inadequate; and the sound system seemed to be acting up from time to time. Furthermore, glorious though the building is, its current layout doesn't lend itself readily to 21st century worship, and a sensitive re-ordering (which will be a challenge in itself) is clearly needed. The mighty roar of the organ has lost none of its power, but some forty years after I used to play it, the condition of the instrument has deteriorated and it is now plagued by a series of 'ciphers' (notes that either sound on their own or stick when played) which, despite the admirable skill and determination of the organist rendered some of the hymn accompaniments at best bizarre and discordant and at worst, frankly, cacophonous. Apparently it will take at least £250,000 to correct the faults and considerably more to give the organ the total rebuild that is now due.
As the reality of all this sank in, any envy I had ever felt for the Vicar of St Wilfrid's quickly evaporated! As a number of people told me over post-Mass coffee, there's a huge amount of fundraising to do, but there's a real determination to succeed. I wish the Vicar and PCC well in this venture, not least as they navigate the various challenges that will doubtless be posed by this-and-that preservation society and (probably) by those who seldom or never darken the doors of the church but feel they are entitled to frustrate the efforts of those who do. I shall certainly be praying for the parish over the coming months and years.
So my visit generated a degree of sadness, just as a recent visit to Chichester did when I ventured to the site of the former Theological College and saw the Chapel (no longer used for worship) looking tired and neglected, the grounds largely overgrown and one of the more recent college buildings now used (some 'wags' would say appropriately) as a Residential Care Home.
Buildings and places - especially those that have for some of us been what Celtic spirituality calls 'thin places' (i.e. places where the presence of God seems particularly real or close) - play a significant part in our lives. Often they are associated with important events or particular experiences, and they become points of reference for us. They are a part of our history and therefore part of who and what we are; but like all material things, buildings come and go and they will certainly often undergo change and sometimes, sadly, decay. They remind us that ".... here we have no lasting city, but we seek the city that is to come" (Hebrews 13:14 NRSV)
So nostalgia is a dangerous and often painful lens through which to view our lives. Jesus once said,
"Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal; But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal : For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also." (Matthew 6: 19-21 KJV)
The challenge for the Christian is to ensure that our treasure is indeed in heaven and that our eyes are set firmly on the city that is to come. The eternal and unchanging God, as revealed in the person of Christ, is the cornerstone on which our lives are built, and as we journey through life, our focus must be firmly on the future, viewed through the lens of faith, hope and trust.
For those of us whose pilgrimage involves being stewards of church buildings, getting our priorities right will be dependent upon us viewing things through the right lens. The challenge for the good people of St Wilfrid's, Harrogate is to ensure that this wonderful building is properly preserved and developed as a church for the present and the future - and not merely a splendid memorial to the past. For them - and for all of us - the even greater challenge is to recognise that it is we who are The Church - not the bricks and mortar in which we gather for worship - and to ensure that it is our spiritual treasure that lies at the centre of our lives, not anything material and earthly - even if it is a very wonderful Grade 1 listed building!
St Wilfrid's Harrogate is an impressive edifice by any standards. The subject of John Betjeman's poem 'Perp. revival i' the north', it's regarded as one of Edwardian architect Temple Moore's finest works, and its grandeur surpasses that of many a Cathedral. Built on a hill to the north of the spa town, spacious, light and airy, it speaks of the glory and majesty of God and remains, as was always intended, a beacon of Anglo-Catholicism.Many years ago, it was to St Wilfrid's that I ventured one Ascension Day evening - abandoning my own beloved middle-of-the-road Parish Church of Christ Church, Harrogate - to sample what I had heard described as 'High Church' worship. There I discovered the beauty and power of High Mass and began to encounter the riches of the Catholic faith. I was well and truly 'hooked'! St Wilfrid's soon became my regular place of worship, and it was as a card-carrying Anglo-Catholic that I set off on the road to ordination.
St Wilfrid's boasted a very fine organ - a large three manual instrument built by Harrison and Harrison of Durham, housed in the north transept and approached by a dramatic stone staircase modelled on that at Hexham Abbey. Built for the generous acoustic and with particularly heavy diapasons and fiery reeds, this instrument had a mighty roar, and it was my joy and privilege to play it from time to time.
Having a rare opportunity to re-visit St Wilfrid's for Sunday Mass, I wasn't sure what to expect. I knew that its liturgical tradition has been not only preserved but further advanced, but I was concerned that the musical tradition may have been lost, the congregation depleted and that as with so many church visits, this would be a sad encounter with 'faded glory'.
I'm pleased to say that this certainly wasn't the case - at least not in the ways that really matter. The congregation was incredibly friendly and probably amongst the most welcoming I have ever encountered. Though perhaps a little 'fussy' for my personal taste, the solidly Catholic liturgy was well executed, the choir sang extremely well and there was a real sense of our worshipping God in the beauty of holiness. As a worshipping community, St Wilfrid's is clearly a faithful and living church, confident in its Catholicism and proud (in a healthy way) of its tradition.Sadly, however, there were some signs of decline in the physical state of the building. The stonework - most especially the floor - is in need of major restoration; the lighting (especially in the sanctuary) is - certainly by modern standards - rather inadequate; and the sound system seemed to be acting up from time to time. Furthermore, glorious though the building is, its current layout doesn't lend itself readily to 21st century worship, and a sensitive re-ordering (which will be a challenge in itself) is clearly needed. The mighty roar of the organ has lost none of its power, but some forty years after I used to play it, the condition of the instrument has deteriorated and it is now plagued by a series of 'ciphers' (notes that either sound on their own or stick when played) which, despite the admirable skill and determination of the organist rendered some of the hymn accompaniments at best bizarre and discordant and at worst, frankly, cacophonous. Apparently it will take at least £250,000 to correct the faults and considerably more to give the organ the total rebuild that is now due.
As the reality of all this sank in, any envy I had ever felt for the Vicar of St Wilfrid's quickly evaporated! As a number of people told me over post-Mass coffee, there's a huge amount of fundraising to do, but there's a real determination to succeed. I wish the Vicar and PCC well in this venture, not least as they navigate the various challenges that will doubtless be posed by this-and-that preservation society and (probably) by those who seldom or never darken the doors of the church but feel they are entitled to frustrate the efforts of those who do. I shall certainly be praying for the parish over the coming months and years.
So my visit generated a degree of sadness, just as a recent visit to Chichester did when I ventured to the site of the former Theological College and saw the Chapel (no longer used for worship) looking tired and neglected, the grounds largely overgrown and one of the more recent college buildings now used (some 'wags' would say appropriately) as a Residential Care Home.
Buildings and places - especially those that have for some of us been what Celtic spirituality calls 'thin places' (i.e. places where the presence of God seems particularly real or close) - play a significant part in our lives. Often they are associated with important events or particular experiences, and they become points of reference for us. They are a part of our history and therefore part of who and what we are; but like all material things, buildings come and go and they will certainly often undergo change and sometimes, sadly, decay. They remind us that ".... here we have no lasting city, but we seek the city that is to come" (Hebrews 13:14 NRSV)
So nostalgia is a dangerous and often painful lens through which to view our lives. Jesus once said,
"Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal; But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal : For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also." (Matthew 6: 19-21 KJV)
The challenge for the Christian is to ensure that our treasure is indeed in heaven and that our eyes are set firmly on the city that is to come. The eternal and unchanging God, as revealed in the person of Christ, is the cornerstone on which our lives are built, and as we journey through life, our focus must be firmly on the future, viewed through the lens of faith, hope and trust.
For those of us whose pilgrimage involves being stewards of church buildings, getting our priorities right will be dependent upon us viewing things through the right lens. The challenge for the good people of St Wilfrid's, Harrogate is to ensure that this wonderful building is properly preserved and developed as a church for the present and the future - and not merely a splendid memorial to the past. For them - and for all of us - the even greater challenge is to recognise that it is we who are The Church - not the bricks and mortar in which we gather for worship - and to ensure that it is our spiritual treasure that lies at the centre of our lives, not anything material and earthly - even if it is a very wonderful Grade 1 listed building!
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