Wednesday, November 10, 2010


Rather belatedly, because of having to write about it for the local paper and be mindful of grandmothering activities, I must remark on the joyful nature of Sunday's Eucharist in Holy T. Usually we have a turnout of between 20-25, most of us more mature in years than in demeanour with one or two exceptions (work that one out), but on Sunday we found ourselves with over 40. What is more, there were weans: weans visiting, weans of a former chorister who felt inspired to come, weans of old friends who felt like a blast of Anglicanism again.

Because there had been some prior warning of some of these children - our grand-daughter, for one - there had appeared as if by magic a play-rug, jigsaws, books, drawing things and so on in the social area at the back of the church (and a heater - don't forget the heater) so that all through the service we could hear childish voices and the odd thump (no - they weren't thumping each other; just dropping things), and by the end of it everyone looked ... cheerful, hilarious, joyful wouldn't be too strong, and joined in Andrew-led clapping in the final hymn.

The previous Thursday we'd had another performance from Voskresenije - whose name means "resurrection". The theme of the lectionary readings had been Resurrection. On Sunday, that's just what it felt like. Cheers!

1 comment:

  1. Your post has reminded me, on Remembrance Day, of the time I turned up very naively to a Remembrance Sunday service in a neighbouring village with a baby and toddler in tow. It was Church of Scotland and husband was piping. I was aware, as I walked in, of stares and horrified looks but it only gradually dawned on me that mine were the only children in a packed church. I didn't last long and scurried out to discover a creche round the corner where I spent the duration of the service feeling like a second class citizen, hidden away during important events.

    I come from an RC background where children are an integral part of services which can be very noisy but most people take in their stride. I was so shocked by this CofS experience that I haven't been back since! Scarred for life.