Alarms
Last Friday evening the Vicarage phone rang at quarter past seven. My heart sank; mid evening calls are usually from people with a problem at St Peter's, requiring me to go up there and sort it out. This, however, was from Jacqui, our Lunch Club mastermind, so I felt immediately relieved. The relief, though, was short-lived, as Jacqui reported that she was preparing for Lunch Club at St Peter's and the fire alarm was going off. She said that she had checked, and could find no fire, and asked whether I knew how to turn it off. In twelve years the alarm has never gone off, or, to my knowledge, been serviced, so I had no idea. I said I thought it would stop by itself, as surely they are required to do (after twenty minutes, I think) but she then told me that it had been sounding for an hour and a half.
So, I got my bike out and went up to St Peter's, expecting to be assailed by lots of angry residents from the old people's flats next door, who were surely being disturbed. When I arrived I could hear nothing, so I was confused, but when I went down to the church and hall it became audible. In the lobby the bell was audible, but not intolerable, and the same was clearly true of the hall, where Jacqui's volunteers were peeling potatoes. It was only when I went out into the outer foyer that the noise became intolerably loud, and it became clear that it was barely noticeable outside the building. I fetched a stepladder, and with the aid of pliers, screwdriver and blu-tac, silenced the bell.
I then started wondering how useful this system actually is. The bell is meant to be activated by smashing a glass panel (there are no smoke or heat alarms). There are three panels: one immediately under the bell, in the foyer; a second in the church, beside the organ (on the back of the same wall as the first one); the third in the hall, at the far side, beside the fire escape. It is impossible to imagine a situation in which someone walking around shouting, "Fire! Fire!" would not be just as effective as trying to activate this alarm. It's a fairly small space, and a few steps enable you to see it all, and certainly shouting would be effective. There are also plenty of ways out. I had always assumed that our system was a branch of the system in the flats above us, but evidently not, as they did not have an alarm on Friday evening. So, if it had been a fire, the flats above the church, who did need to know, wouldn't have been alerted anyway. We have lots of extinguishers (which are serviced regularly) and plenty of fire exits; I think we have just demonstrated that the alarm adds nothing to our well-being. A conversation with our inspecting architect is required.
Coach Trip
The big story of last week was the public meeting over the TfL proposal to site a coach station at Royal Oak. The Bayswater councillors organised a meeting, expecting a couple of dozen to turn up, but over a hundred people did. Emily Payne (a fellow governor) chaired it, and the excellent Graham King, from the City Council, explained the proposal. It appears that the lease on Victoria Coach Station will come up in a few years, and the Grosvenor Estate wants it back, so as to build more lucrative housing. TfL unimaginatively wants to provide a new coach station and would prefer to do so on land it already owns, hence its interest in the area north of Royal Oak station platform. This slice of land (in St Mary Magdalene's parish) used to contain the sidings leading to Paddington Goods Station, which were removed prior to the digging of Crossrail underneath it. It is at the level of the rail tracks, and so perhaps thirty feet below the level of Lord Hill's Bridge to the west, Ranelagh Bridge to the east, and the Harrow Road (itself beneath the Westway) to the north. Just describing those levels makes it clear how unsuitable this would be. Apparently, Ranelagh Bridge would be removed to make this possible, and so we would lose our access to the A40. Of course it would also be necessary to close Royal Oak station at least while the work was done, and quite possibly permanently, which would hardly be to our benefit. In order to fund the scheme, TfL would build shops, offices and housing in a block over the top of the coach station. What a lovely place to live, alongside the Westway, with the Great Western mainline on the other side.
Of course, this is only one of a number of sites TfL are considering. It is manifestly foolish, even without considering issues of traffic, pollution, infrastructure and so on (which are damning), but my point is that this is a futile exercise. In civilized cities (and actually lots of pretty uncivilized ones too) coach stations are on the edge of the urban sprawl, at suitable transport nodes, where passengers can transfer to rapid urban transport while the coaches go swiftly on their way without having to battle through urban traffic. Lots of British cities do this already, (though admittedly some without necessarily providing the public transport connections) and it has to make sense. No-one would build Victoria Coach Station where it is today, and it is only because it is there already that there is any feeling that it should be replaced by something equally central; if we were starting from scratch we would build it on the periphery, since London has excellent public transport.
There are petitions against the proposal from both the Labour Party and the Conservative Party, and Nicky Hessenberg, who has been helping with our fundraising for the Project, is co-ordinating opposition, so I think TfL have a fight on their hands.
Global Food
Another thing that brought the local community together last week was the Westbourne Global Food Festival, organised by the Westbourne Forum, and held in the Stowe Centre on Saturday afternoon. We had arranged for an array of local restaurants to bring samples of their food, which when combined made a decent plate, which locals could have for free. Then several groups provided entertainment. We ended up having to turn people away, as the hall was just too full. A very good use of the councillors' ward budget. Fish and chips was available alongside Greek, middle eastern, Asian and African food, and the entertainment included African, Bollywood and Albanian dancing, as well as zumba (done by people I can only describe as Londoners). All wonderfully various, and very good humoured.
Monday 28 January 2019
Tuesday 8 January 2019
A CHRISTMAS REVIEW
Sorry that December passed without a single blog post, but the month became (enjoyably) busy. It's part of the clerical profession that we become a bit singleminded in December (which I appreciate doesn't always make us easy to live with) and so it was this year. I also found distraction in my free time. So here's a review of what went on over the last month.
A Fairer Christmas
December began with the Christmas Fair at St Peter's, which blessedly raised £900 despite poor attendance. Most of the profit comes from selling raffle tickets to people outside the parish, usually people's work colleagues; some lawyers and call-centre operatives must dread this time of year! The Fair was much improved this year by a portion of the St Peter's School Choir coming to sing carols on the pavement outside, which boosted the atmosphere and gave an infusion of new customers. It was really good to feel some positive collaboration from the school.
Santa Claus comes and visits St Peter's, holding court in a grotto laboriously constructed in the Meeting Room, to which his "little helper" escorts the children. This year Santa had a new suit, which turned out to be much thicker than the old one, and since the temperature was 15 degrees outside, Santa got very hot. When he removed his big, black belt the inside of it was beaded with sweat! I had gone to buy the new suit in the summer, thinking myself very shrewd, only to be told that they didn't get their stock in until after Hallowe'en, which basically gave a panicky three week window to carry out this errand. Still, Santa appreciated it, and it did its job, as he went unrecognised by a ten year old, not to mention a seven year old at whose house Santa often dines. Santa's confidence was so improved by this new suit that he's contemplating making a festive arrival with bells next time, instead of just sneaking round the back. In the old suit, Santa basically had to remain seated for fear that his trousers would fall down and his jacket flap open (to say nothing of his beard coming adrift, secured as it was with blu-tac).
A Feast of Carols
The Carol Service was a resounding success, largely thanks to the Corisande Singers, who joined us for the fifth time. We weren't able to have them in 2017, because we had to have the service at St Peter's, where there is no room for a choir, but this year we were back in St Mary Magdalene's, and so they were back with us. The arrangements were a bit provisional, but we learnt for the future. Because our new boiler will be in the plant room in the new extension we are having to use temporary heating, with electric overhead radiant heaters. These are a bit disconcerting; one of the readers at the service remarked afterwards that she had been lovely and warm sitting under the heater, but when she stood at the lectern to read, she could suddenly see her own breath. They don't heat the atmosphere, but solid things in range of them. People ask how early they should put them on and I have to explain that all that achieves is warming up the seats, possibly to an uncomfortable degree, so it's really not worth it. The fringe benefit of the radiant heaters is that they emit a pleasing amber glow, which turned out to be very useful as we didn't have an appropriate setting for the lights. I had spent some time discussing settings, and then going through programming with the engineer, a couple of months ago, but I seem to have omitted to plan one which works for a "candlelit" service. It was either too bright or too dark, until the heaters rescued the dark setting. I need to get the engineer back to sort that out.
Among the readers we had the heads of both primary schools, the chairman of the Music Society, the organiser of the Lunch Club, and a St Peter's young person, so there was a reasonable cross-section of who we are. The choir also sang a composition by a member of the congregation, Marcus (who is actually a professional violinist) which was lovely. In fact they sang it two years ago as well, but I'm not sure Marcus has actually been present to hear it on either occasion. It was very pleasing that several people who have got involved in the Project over the past couple of years, through volunteering or fundraising, were in the congregation, and joined us for mince pies and mulled wine afterwards.Everyone was very excited by how the church looks now.
Christingle at Fifty
"So what is a Christingle?" they say. Well, huge numbers of people who have attended (or worked in) a C of E primary school in the last forty years or so will know the answer, because the Christingle Service (first introduced to the UK by the Church of England Children's Society in 1968) has become a part of Christmas tradition in many schools. The combination of oranges, candles and sweeties is a powerful one. It's also found its way into parish life, particularly where there are lots of children. Long ago, in Plymstock, I was introduced to the idea of doing it at 5pm on Christmas Eve, as a time that was socially useful (one parent would wrap presents while the other took children to church for a while). It was the youth group leaders who had that insight, and quite right they were. I did it that way until 2017, when Christmas Eve was Sunday and I didn't think it was fair to ask the organist to do 9.30 and 11am, then come back for 5pm, as well as 11pm. I also didn't think many people would turn up, so I brought it forward to the Friday before Christmas, and numbers were halved. I was told people had already gone away. This year I brought it forward to the Thursday, when most schools hadn't yet broken up; same numbers as last year. Next time we shall go back to Christmas Eve. I hope we shall have a better collection to send to the Children's Society.
A Midnight Clear
The congregation at Midnight Mass was well-behaved; that's the first thing for which to give thanks. In Exeter, when I was a curate, we were next door to the Prince Albert and across the road from the Sawyers' Arms, and it helped to have a large sidesman standing just inside the door to keep order and effect removals. St Mary Magdalene's no longer has an adjacent boozer, so we don't have that problem, and the drunks in the regular congregation have known how to behave. It's best if the regulars have their wits about them, as we all have loads of strangers at Midnight, who of course don't know when to stand or sit (despite it being perfectly clear on the sheet) or when to respond, which can be a bit disconcerting. You never really know how many people will come on Christmas Eve, but it was a good turnout, in response to minimal publicity.
I have gained myself more tellings-off for music choices at Midnight than any other occasion, and it is clear that some carols are regarded by some members of the congregation as permanently fixed in particular spots in the Mass. So this year I was unadventurous. I ensured that we did sing some of those that make me cry, but not merely all my favourites. We even sang "While Shepherds" to "Winchester New", which is generally agreed to be the dullest carol known to mankind (I was nearly assaulted after setting it to "Lyngham" once) and I smiled cheerily.
We now have the altar at the top of the chancel steps, and it is tremendous presiding there, as you look out at the painted ceiling of the nave and up at the painted chancel vault and think of all the saints joining you in worship. The restoration has certainly been worthwhile from my point of view! Lots of the visitors have also been impressed, of course.
Morning Glory
There's always the chance that the morning Mass on Christmas Day will feel like an anti-climax after the excitement of Midnight, and it's often a struggle to get servers to turn out, but we usually get a decent congregation at St Peter's, and we sing some different (but still familiar) carols. As my brother-in-law stays, and actually listens to sermons, I have no chance of saying the same thing twice, so I usually spend the afternoon of Christmas Eve hoping to gain inspiration for the morning's sermon from the King's College Carol Service. I think we managed all right for ideas this year, but it can be a struggle to say something new (or something familiar in a new way). In fact the service was lovely, and special in its own terms. I was given more presents, including a couple of white teeshirts, which might seem odd, but that family have given me vests in the past, and it's terribly kind of them. At the end you can really say "Hodie Christus natus est!"
A Fairer Christmas
December began with the Christmas Fair at St Peter's, which blessedly raised £900 despite poor attendance. Most of the profit comes from selling raffle tickets to people outside the parish, usually people's work colleagues; some lawyers and call-centre operatives must dread this time of year! The Fair was much improved this year by a portion of the St Peter's School Choir coming to sing carols on the pavement outside, which boosted the atmosphere and gave an infusion of new customers. It was really good to feel some positive collaboration from the school.
Santa Claus comes and visits St Peter's, holding court in a grotto laboriously constructed in the Meeting Room, to which his "little helper" escorts the children. This year Santa had a new suit, which turned out to be much thicker than the old one, and since the temperature was 15 degrees outside, Santa got very hot. When he removed his big, black belt the inside of it was beaded with sweat! I had gone to buy the new suit in the summer, thinking myself very shrewd, only to be told that they didn't get their stock in until after Hallowe'en, which basically gave a panicky three week window to carry out this errand. Still, Santa appreciated it, and it did its job, as he went unrecognised by a ten year old, not to mention a seven year old at whose house Santa often dines. Santa's confidence was so improved by this new suit that he's contemplating making a festive arrival with bells next time, instead of just sneaking round the back. In the old suit, Santa basically had to remain seated for fear that his trousers would fall down and his jacket flap open (to say nothing of his beard coming adrift, secured as it was with blu-tac).
A Feast of Carols
The Carol Service was a resounding success, largely thanks to the Corisande Singers, who joined us for the fifth time. We weren't able to have them in 2017, because we had to have the service at St Peter's, where there is no room for a choir, but this year we were back in St Mary Magdalene's, and so they were back with us. The arrangements were a bit provisional, but we learnt for the future. Because our new boiler will be in the plant room in the new extension we are having to use temporary heating, with electric overhead radiant heaters. These are a bit disconcerting; one of the readers at the service remarked afterwards that she had been lovely and warm sitting under the heater, but when she stood at the lectern to read, she could suddenly see her own breath. They don't heat the atmosphere, but solid things in range of them. People ask how early they should put them on and I have to explain that all that achieves is warming up the seats, possibly to an uncomfortable degree, so it's really not worth it. The fringe benefit of the radiant heaters is that they emit a pleasing amber glow, which turned out to be very useful as we didn't have an appropriate setting for the lights. I had spent some time discussing settings, and then going through programming with the engineer, a couple of months ago, but I seem to have omitted to plan one which works for a "candlelit" service. It was either too bright or too dark, until the heaters rescued the dark setting. I need to get the engineer back to sort that out.
Among the readers we had the heads of both primary schools, the chairman of the Music Society, the organiser of the Lunch Club, and a St Peter's young person, so there was a reasonable cross-section of who we are. The choir also sang a composition by a member of the congregation, Marcus (who is actually a professional violinist) which was lovely. In fact they sang it two years ago as well, but I'm not sure Marcus has actually been present to hear it on either occasion. It was very pleasing that several people who have got involved in the Project over the past couple of years, through volunteering or fundraising, were in the congregation, and joined us for mince pies and mulled wine afterwards.Everyone was very excited by how the church looks now.
Christingle at Fifty
"So what is a Christingle?" they say. Well, huge numbers of people who have attended (or worked in) a C of E primary school in the last forty years or so will know the answer, because the Christingle Service (first introduced to the UK by the Church of England Children's Society in 1968) has become a part of Christmas tradition in many schools. The combination of oranges, candles and sweeties is a powerful one. It's also found its way into parish life, particularly where there are lots of children. Long ago, in Plymstock, I was introduced to the idea of doing it at 5pm on Christmas Eve, as a time that was socially useful (one parent would wrap presents while the other took children to church for a while). It was the youth group leaders who had that insight, and quite right they were. I did it that way until 2017, when Christmas Eve was Sunday and I didn't think it was fair to ask the organist to do 9.30 and 11am, then come back for 5pm, as well as 11pm. I also didn't think many people would turn up, so I brought it forward to the Friday before Christmas, and numbers were halved. I was told people had already gone away. This year I brought it forward to the Thursday, when most schools hadn't yet broken up; same numbers as last year. Next time we shall go back to Christmas Eve. I hope we shall have a better collection to send to the Children's Society.
A Midnight Clear
The congregation at Midnight Mass was well-behaved; that's the first thing for which to give thanks. In Exeter, when I was a curate, we were next door to the Prince Albert and across the road from the Sawyers' Arms, and it helped to have a large sidesman standing just inside the door to keep order and effect removals. St Mary Magdalene's no longer has an adjacent boozer, so we don't have that problem, and the drunks in the regular congregation have known how to behave. It's best if the regulars have their wits about them, as we all have loads of strangers at Midnight, who of course don't know when to stand or sit (despite it being perfectly clear on the sheet) or when to respond, which can be a bit disconcerting. You never really know how many people will come on Christmas Eve, but it was a good turnout, in response to minimal publicity.
I have gained myself more tellings-off for music choices at Midnight than any other occasion, and it is clear that some carols are regarded by some members of the congregation as permanently fixed in particular spots in the Mass. So this year I was unadventurous. I ensured that we did sing some of those that make me cry, but not merely all my favourites. We even sang "While Shepherds" to "Winchester New", which is generally agreed to be the dullest carol known to mankind (I was nearly assaulted after setting it to "Lyngham" once) and I smiled cheerily.
We now have the altar at the top of the chancel steps, and it is tremendous presiding there, as you look out at the painted ceiling of the nave and up at the painted chancel vault and think of all the saints joining you in worship. The restoration has certainly been worthwhile from my point of view! Lots of the visitors have also been impressed, of course.
Morning Glory
There's always the chance that the morning Mass on Christmas Day will feel like an anti-climax after the excitement of Midnight, and it's often a struggle to get servers to turn out, but we usually get a decent congregation at St Peter's, and we sing some different (but still familiar) carols. As my brother-in-law stays, and actually listens to sermons, I have no chance of saying the same thing twice, so I usually spend the afternoon of Christmas Eve hoping to gain inspiration for the morning's sermon from the King's College Carol Service. I think we managed all right for ideas this year, but it can be a struggle to say something new (or something familiar in a new way). In fact the service was lovely, and special in its own terms. I was given more presents, including a couple of white teeshirts, which might seem odd, but that family have given me vests in the past, and it's terribly kind of them. At the end you can really say "Hodie Christus natus est!"
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