When God came to Church

 So I was pretty comfortable going to the new church. To be fair, I didn't have to much other than show up and that's been going well. Unremarkable really, at least it was, until today..

In I went slightly earlier than usual and wandered nearer to the front. As I say, its sometimes difficult to hear and even in my schooldays I liked to face the front. Its worth noting here that somehow that church never has a chill about it. 

I don't do the holy water on entry or the bowing of the knee and I do need to practice that but after today, I do get it. 

Anyway, there I was, sitting by the pillar thinking about nothing in particular and up started the service and again I wasn't really thinking anything, going through the motions if you will. 

As you'd expect, time went by and it was bells and bread and wafer starting any second. 

Now, communion is a bit of a sad point really for me because I was baptised a Methodist having already been christened by the Church of England as a baby. I don't know if I'll ever be eligible for a Catholic communion so I just sit and wait or go even go outside sometimes - which you can get away with because people are moving around a bit. 

Today I just sat there and it turned out I had an excellent view of the priest dishing out the communion. I watched and watched and looked behind me and saw there were practically queuing out the door. Queuing out the door they'd have been were it not for the snaking round the pews at the back. 

I watched people of all shapes and colours and sizes, not to mention ages, standing obediently in a line and there's no chatting at my church. Thankfully. People aren't there to gossip, or get out the house on a weekend or 'be seen' , not so, they are there to get on with getting on with God. 

Absolutely packed it was and I had this wonderful view, like in a film, I saw everyone so clearly, taking the bread and wine and then their seats and afterward, there was a sense of something I've never felt before. 

Describable only as, 'a thin place' it was like, the faith of all those people - or more precisely - the congregation - meant that the link upwards to God was so strong it was almost as if there was no roof. 

I was like everyone had an individual torch and was shining it upwards. 

I realised then as well that all the light stone and everything, there is a reason it isn't dark in there - it is a place of light the Catholic Church is. That IS the atmosphere. 

The 'thin place' concept isn't new to me. I've always wanted to go to Southampton Dock to see if all the concentrated emotion of all the mums on that pier waving the boys off and welcoming them home had any effect on the atmosphere due to the small geographical location. There will be so many emotions that have been so charged in that area and the saddest of all will be the mums who wandered the wooden planks alone at desolate times because it was the last place they saw their son and they are drawing some kind of comfort or at least attempting to. 

One of my regular conceptual, theoretical thoughts which I was drifting back off to having just felt the roof almost disappear and that access to above was so unobstructed. Combine this with the fact that the Catholic Church is all doing this at the same time in the same way then that's got 'thin' the barriers and I thought again about the bereaved mum and how God would see her and somehow speak to her and it took until then for it to dawn on me. 

It wasn't those lot shining torches through the roof after bread and wine, it was God coming down and let me tell you now I have never known such a tangible presence of Him. 

And I knew he was with all of us today in that service

I realised I was in an inner city church, rammed full and that it was great having the doors open and the sirens blaring by and the black priest and the crying baby. Talk about feeling alive and seeing what's really happening. It was great. I'm glad I saw it like that, felt like I was part of inner city London  

And incidentally if you want seven minutes of cinema and what its like in a catholic service do click here, 

Ok my experience wasn't THAT dramatic but it was real and afterward I went to the tearoom and spoke to Fr Eddy and he said he'd give me some instruction. In fact Mr Spangle instructed my to ask 'So Father when are you going to give me some instruction? (or something like that)' 

There I met Steven with a V who is a former Anglican, devoted to his sister and someone whom I could quite reasonable describe as Mr Perfect. You know, tall, suited, bespectacled, immaculate face, could be aged fifty or seventy and anywhere in between. 

Fr Eddy said there's about four us interested. So that was good. We will see. I exchanged details with Steven and said I'd try and get over to see him in the next few days, he lives in the next village about three miles and doesn't drive which is surprising for a man so seemingly perfect. I would have thought changing gear would cause far too many creases, especially after all that dry cleaning that's evident.