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| 1566: Holy
Trinity, West Allington, Lincolnshire, England |
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Photo: Richard Croft |
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Mystery Worshipper:
Bill F. Bywaters.
The church:
Holy Trinity, West Allington, Lincolnshire, England.
Denomination:
Church of England, Diocese
of Lincoln.
The building:
A patchwork of medieval stone and 18th century brick. It almost
looks as though someone had tried to rebuild this little church
in brick but had run out of money or bricks. The porch and west
end still survive in stone. The north arcade dates from around
1200 and the south doorway is Norman. There is no tower. Inside,
it is beautifully simple, with sedate Norman arches in the north
aisle.
The church:
Originally both East and West Allington had their own parish
churches. West Allington was an ecclesiastical parish and East
Allington was a chapelry (chapel of ease) of nearby Sedgebrook
parish. East Allington was separated from the parish of Sedgebrook
in 1872 and united with West Allington.
The neighbourhood:
To further confuse things, East Allington is south and slightly
west of West Allington. This is Lincolnshire, only a couple
of miles from Grantham with its Gingerbreads football club,
so you might think it is relatively lively. But this is picture-postcard
England, green fields, old brick and thatch, and rooks loudly
complaining about the price of sticks as they build this year's
nests.
The cast:
The Revd Stella Langdon-Davies, vicar.
The date & time:
Palm Sunday, 16 March 2008, 9.30am.
What was the name of the service?
Parish Eucharist.
How full was the building?
The little church was comfortably full, or felt so, with 20
to 30 people. They all seemed like a nice enough group.
Did anyone welcome you personally?
I was sure I was arriving early, but I was surprised to find
the service already underway. The vicar spotted me and called
out a cheery "Welcome! Come and join us." That was
nice, and made me feel a bit less miffed that the whole thing
had got underway a good ten minutes before the advertised time.
Was your pew comfortable?
These very un-fancy Victorian pews were surprisingly comfortable,
and even gave some protection from a wintry draught that was
whipping in under the main doors.
How would you describe the pre-service
atmosphere?
It would have been nice to have been there to witness the locals
gathering on the green to re-enact Jesus' entrance into Jerusalem
astride a small pony (there being no donkey available). But
the procession had been cut short by driving rain and a north
wind, so everyone had gone into the church and started early.
They weren't expecting visitors.
What were the exact opening words of the
service?
For me, the vicar's words of welcome quoted above. This helped
at least to lessen the feeling that I was intruding on a private
party.
What books did the congregation use during the
service?
The service was included in a printed handbook of Lenten services
for the diocese of Lincoln. It was straight from Common
Worship, but in clear print, well laid out, and easy to
follow.
What musical instruments were played?
The organ provided all the loudness the church could handle.
I won't say the tempo of the hymns was slow – let's just say
I had plenty of time to dwell on the words while I sang.
Did anything distract you?
I still couldn't get over the fact that the service had started
so early despite my realising that the weather had forced an
adjustment of schedule.
Was the worship stiff-upper-lip,
happy clappy, or what?
This was the Church of England at its most sedate. Vicar Langdon-Davies
had a very quiet manner of speaking. I almost felt that she
was more a victim of the order of service than its leader.
Exactly how long was the
sermon?
There was none. I assume the pre-service procession had been
intended to take its place.
Which part of the service
was like being in heaven?
Being in a peaceful country church, where everything was in
order and nothing seemed particularly slick, was very comforting,
even if the weather was foul.
And which part was like being in... er... the other place?
On the other hand, the Church of England can seem like a very
exclusive club at times. As I looked around, I wondered what
Jesus might do if he wandered in. He wasn't over 40, he didn't
have a taste for tweed or expensive-but-not-showy clothes. Would
he have fit right in? I somehow doubt it.
What happened when you hung around after the service looking lost?
Surprisingly, I was invited to coffee, and began to regret my
unworthy thoughts.
How would you describe
the after-service coffee?
The vicar had to dash off to her next service (with clear regret,
but being able to socialise on Sundays is not given to many
priests these days). The parishioners were all curious as to
where I came from and how I happened upon West Allington on
a cold, blustery, rainy Palm Sunday. I felt a bit uneasy about
being an outsider, but at least I was properly attired in tweeds
and cords. But if I had instead selected my Megadeth t-shirt
and a pair of jeans...? Still, you've got to speak as you find,
and the people here were, well, nice.
How would you feel about
making this church your regular (where 10 = ecstatic, 0 = terminal)?
4 – A bit too sedate for my liking, I'm afraid. And I would
have liked to have heard a sermon.
Did the service make you feel glad to be a
Christian?
Largely because of what was NOT in the service, I felt acutely
that being a Christian isn't easy. Loving people isn't easy.
Recognising Jesus in other people isn't easy.
What one thing will you remember about all this in seven days' time?
This will always go down as the service that started without me. The service that wasn't expecting strangers. And the stranger who maybe expected too much of a little Lincolnshire church. |
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| The Mystery Pilgrim |
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| One of our most seasoned reporters makes the Camino pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela in Spain. Read here. |
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