Advent Thought 3 and Number 1

We went to the Wells Cathedral Advent Carol Service on Sunday afternoon. It was by candlelight. My favourite hymns of the year both feature minor-keyed Advent longing. Here, juxtaposing some new choral pieces based on the great Advent Magnificat antiphons with the words of poet Malcolm Guite, Name of Names gave me long gaps between the treasures to ponder my personal illumination.

A tapered white candle with a skirt to protect my precious fingers from wax,  once lit, became a slender angel at best and a danger to the flowing red locks of the woman in front of me at worst. When she sat down spectacularly and flamboyantly at the end of hymns I developed a knack of holding the candle over to the left ( I was on the end of a row). Be alert.

Because I was exposed to the draft my single candle burned fast. Whilst others in the row held their nine inches proudly above their service sheets my waxy extravagances went through various stages of silhouette.

First the angel developed arms; one raised and one lowered, beckoning me. Then the raised arm dripped down and joined the other. Maybe 'Angel with Backpack' will stir the creativity of a sculptor somewhere. Although 'Angel Attacked by Giant Caterpillar', the next morphosis, is a bit too sci-fi for church.

From there things proceeded quickly and my angel first reduced to the size of Yoda then disappeared into itself covering my thumb with hot wax through the central hole in the skirt just as mortal flesh was having silence suggested. I jerked and the last angelic drips deposited themselves on my right thigh.

'Don't rub it' said the knowledgeable Mrs Mustard. I expect she has seen Aladdin and didn't want an angel popping out of my trousers with clouds descending.

So I learnt (she has a degree-level qualification in domestic art) to place kitchen roll under the wax and brown paper over it and then a tea towel over that and to iron it.

Today's question. How do you occupy yourself when trapped in something you are not enjoying? Can you make plans for such occasions?

Conditions of a shared belief
Is it always binary?

Statistics and Cathedral Worship

As regular readers (hi Mum) know, I am a great consumer of statistics. I am no expert but one thing that bugs me above all else is when conclusions are drawn from numbers which are simply opinion.

So now the church attendance figures recently released for 2015 (we're getting faster at this, believe it or not) show that attendance at cathedral worship is up compared with many other places where a downwards trend is observed.

And immediately one or two lazy commentators suggest that this proves that modern forms of worship are failing and we should all get back in the cloisters.

It does no such thing. In fact what we see on the ground is a number of very small evening congregations being wound up due to a shortage of organists, choir-masters, choir and indeed congregation. I should just have said 'everything' but I'm a sucker for merism ladies and gentlemen.

As they wind up, some people choose to worship at other times and other places; a number simply drift away, but a few, who were mainly attracted by choral evensong, find their way to the nearest cathedral. Up go the numbers.

It should be our expectation that as things get rarer the finest expressions of them survive the longest and attract the most attention. No conclusions beyond that can be drawn.

Installation

I have been to Wells Cathedral, for the installation of Peter Hancock as the new Bishop of Bath and Wells. It is funny to reflect on the terminology used at such occasions:

Some get installed, but not because they are a dishwasher.

Some get licensed, but not because they are currently illegal.

Some get translated, but not because nobody understands them.

Some get collated, but not because they are out of order presently.

Some get inducted, but not because they are pregnant with ideas.

But I like the idea of a bishop as chief server, edgy if not borderline illegal, fully understood, packed with ideas and putting everything in order.

Go Bishop Peter.

Radical Use for a Cathedral

I went to a National Trust House last Friday. In one of the rooms was a beautiful grand piano and a sign saying 'Pianists are welcome to play.' I normally feel a bit self-conscious on such occasions but Mrs T asked me to tinkle so I did.

It does change the mood of a stately home if a bit of live jazz-blues is happening. I got no audience save the woman who was on duty but she was kind enough to thank me. And given that the doors were all open I expect it echoed through the house.

Compared to the normal keep off, don't touch, curl-up-and-die-now vibe you often get in such places I felt welcomed and affirmed. Come to think of it all the room attendants were helpful and friendly. Well done Stourhead.

But it was the sense of being allowed to do my thing in someone else's space that felt nice. National Trust houses don't all have to sound and smell the same. But in the sense that they are all given a specific historical spin, decorated for some period in the building's history, we know that they will not remain modern for long even if some whipper-snapper inflicts the blues on a piano which was expecting Mozart. He'll be back. Mozart not me.

Most cathedrals around the country are happy to throw their doors open from time to time for youth events and alternative worship events. It is like being allowed to play in the big kids' playground when they are off on a school trip but having to go back to our own safe space later. It's not your piano and it's not your room.

Why have all our cathedrals developed the same, choral tradition?  Would one, any one, dare to be different? Not for one night only, but for ever. Is there one which would be prepared to farm its cathedral school out to another local church and mine a different musical tradition? Could there be a capital of progressive, modern, contemporary worship and theology somewhere? Johnny Baker for Dean; Pete Ward for Canon Theologian where we rock the ordinations, give Gospel the keys to the PA cupboard, stage several symbolic acts before breakfast, unpack the Lenten ambient labyrinth and just well, experiment damn it.

I can't believe such unilateralism exists in our country. And no archbishop has any power over any Dean to require it - they only go to cathedrals by invitation. Really.

So I'll leave it in the world of ideas for now, another case of Carlsberg don't do church, but if they did...

Wouldn't it be great? Join the conversation.

The pictures are of Stourhead. Great lake.