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Oct. 1st, 2006 01:21 pmNo Sunday morning lie-in this week, as my mother and I were guests of honour at St John's Church's Centenary Service. As we had to do a procession from my old (and current, I suppose!) college to the church, we feared the worst when it started bucketing down with rain at 8.30.
Mercifully, by the time we set off it was dry. We waited around the college car park talking to the ex-sailors from HMS St Vincent, who were processing with us, for about a quarter of an hour, before being ushered into formation and led down the road by a lone bagpiper. When we walked past the block of flats where Aunt Peggy lives, my mother said she thought she saw her watching out of the window. I looked up, and saw an open window but didn't make out Aunt Peggy.
St John's is High Church, so the service was very awe-inspiring - nearly all the prayers were sung choral-style and you could smell powerful incense burning the whole time. The Navy's number one chaplain preached a sermon about people who wear 'clothes with attitude' and swung that round to exhort the congregation to have 'faith with attitude'.
At the end, everyone was invited to a champagne reception in the vestry. A couple of people came up to my mother to talk local issues with her, while the president and secretary of the local Buffaloes invited us to their Christmas Service on 3 December, but it clashes with a tree-dressing event she's already accepted. There was a huge iced fruit cake with a centenary photo of the Church resting on it, with a slice for everyone, plus a smaller sponge cake to cater for people who don't like fruit cake. By noon the crowd was starting to disperse and there were still over a dozen slices of fruit cake left, so I helped myself to seconds. Not long after, we were led out to the church steps to have our photo taken with the priest, then home for Sunday roast.
Mercifully, by the time we set off it was dry. We waited around the college car park talking to the ex-sailors from HMS St Vincent, who were processing with us, for about a quarter of an hour, before being ushered into formation and led down the road by a lone bagpiper. When we walked past the block of flats where Aunt Peggy lives, my mother said she thought she saw her watching out of the window. I looked up, and saw an open window but didn't make out Aunt Peggy.
St John's is High Church, so the service was very awe-inspiring - nearly all the prayers were sung choral-style and you could smell powerful incense burning the whole time. The Navy's number one chaplain preached a sermon about people who wear 'clothes with attitude' and swung that round to exhort the congregation to have 'faith with attitude'.
At the end, everyone was invited to a champagne reception in the vestry. A couple of people came up to my mother to talk local issues with her, while the president and secretary of the local Buffaloes invited us to their Christmas Service on 3 December, but it clashes with a tree-dressing event she's already accepted. There was a huge iced fruit cake with a centenary photo of the Church resting on it, with a slice for everyone, plus a smaller sponge cake to cater for people who don't like fruit cake. By noon the crowd was starting to disperse and there were still over a dozen slices of fruit cake left, so I helped myself to seconds. Not long after, we were led out to the church steps to have our photo taken with the priest, then home for Sunday roast.
