Chapter 7

Yeah. No problem, right? Everything on track.

The first Sunday after we legally took possession of our building, I set off to prepare for a celebration.

At the door, I was met by the sight of crudely painted graffiti. 'Heresy!' 'Pagans'. 'Blasphemers!'

I went in. The ladies were there already, as was Dick. The girls were in tears and Dick appeared on the verge of it too and a uniformed police officer was there. Dick led him over to me.

"Mister Bolton? Reverend? I'm PC South."

"Jim is just fine, Constable," I said, "I'm not ordained. I suppose 'Pastor' would be an acceptable title, but I'd rather just be 'Jim'."

"Thank you, sir. Mister Carlisle here called when he and the ladies found the vandalism."

"There's more?"

The tears intensified. Teri came over, grabbed my hand and dragged me into the main body of the church. Black paint had been thrown over the communion table, some of the chairs and more graffiti scrawled on the fresh emulsion on the walls. You might imagine it came as a blow, to put it very mildly.

"I'm sorry to ask this, sir ... but have you any idea who might have done this?"

I admit my mind immediately produced an image of the dour Hardakers. "Sorry, Constable. I wouldn't want to cast any stones around. I've no true idea who might have done this. There were one or two of the old congregation who didn't approve of us, but I wouldn't want to point the finger."

"I see." It was clear he thought I was covering for someone and, in a way I was. "Well, sir, perhaps you and your people here could let us have your statements as soon as possible? I'll just give you the incident number for your insurance company. If you should find anything that might indicate the culprit, please let us know."

"Very well, Constable, we'll do that."

I didn't know what to do and just stood and watched as he left. One or two more of our members arrived and were filled in on what had happened; everyone stood around talking in circles. Until Teri began praying. She wasn't shouting, but gradually everyone shut up. We couldn't understand what she was saying as it was in one of those 'unknown tongues' mentioned in the Bible. She stopped, and Sian, eyes closed, began to speak...

"Rejoice in the Lord always. I say it again ... rejoice! Let your forbearance be known to all!" The words from Paul's letter were very familiar, but Sian went on, "I will praise the Lord at all times – His praise shall ever be in my mouth," the words of the Psalmist ... and "Children, you seek the Truth. I am Truth, and I am Life. Seek Me and trust Me for the future."

She stopped, blinked, and looked round nervously; everyone was staring at her. "What? Why's everyone looking at me?"

"I think you've just given us our marching orders," I said, with a smile. "Come here a minute." When she came, I wrapped her in a warm hug. "What you just did is either prophecy or interpretation of tongues."

"Interpretation," Teri put in. "I had no more idea of what I was saying than anyone, but I felt the rightness of what Sian was saying. And you're right. Marching orders." She looked round. "Okay, Ladies – let's deal with the food. Whatever else we do, everyone will need to eat."

Most of the ladies left, but Sian stayed. I looked at Ben, Dick and Phil. "Why don't we see what we can do about the mess in church?"

Well, it was a mess. The paint had dried, so the damage had been done some time. The altar cloth was a write-off, so we removed it with regret for the effort some of our ladies had put into it. The carpet would have to be replaced, and so would many of the chairs. The screen and data projector had escaped damage, the latter being high out of the way; otherwise it'd have certainly been a target. Dick quickly got his laptop up and functioning. I hadn't realised Sian had left until she returned with a couple of table-cloths – white ones, and draped them over the table. I almost pointed out that the colour of the day was green, but bit my tongue. It was only later I realised how appropriate the white was.

People were wandering in and there was a babble of conversation as newcomers wanted to know what had happened, but I stayed in the sanctuary, my Bible open and markers tucked in at various passages. A few minutes before we were due to start, I heard the unfamiliar sound of the blower feeding air pressure to the bellows for the little pipe-organ. I looked up to see Beth settling herself on the organ bench, then she began to play. To say the instrument needed attention, few would have noticed – it would have taken an expert ear. She launched into a Bach Toccata that was only slightly familiar to me. She finished and I stood.

"Good morning, Sisters and Brothers." I paused as nearly everyone uncertainly responded. "Looking around, you may well think there is little good about it, but this morning those of us who were here to set up were left in no doubt that God wants us to focus on Him and all that is, indeed, good about our situation. We've just been listening to a gifted musician, playing an instrument that is undoubtedly an asset. There is no structural damage to the building and we are all here and ready to worship God. Someone, perhaps more than one, has tried to derail our joint purpose, but the best thing we can do is to obey the words of Saint Paul. 'Rejoice, and again I say, rejoice.' My friends, please stand and join with me in singing the traditional hymn, 'Praise to the Lord, the Almighty, the King of Creation.'"

From that moment on, I – we all – were carried along on waves of passionate worship. A sceptical outsider would no doubt have dismissed it all as 'just emotion', and I suppose they may have been right, but it certainly wasn't planned or co-ordinated by us.

I was aware – at least, afterwards when I thought about it, I was aware – of musicians; Beth, with her flute when she wasn't at the organ, Isabel and Dick with guitars, a man I recognised but couldn't name with a violin and a young woman I didn't recognise at all at a keyboard. Someone would begin to sing, and others would follow; shortly after, the words would appear on the screen and the musicians would pick up the tune, usually in the key the original singer had begun in. Occasionally, they would change the key if it was too high or too low. Sometimes it would be fractionally out of concert pitch, but none of that mattered.

Prayer seemed to just happen spontaneously, and there was a moment when I knew it was right to move to the communion table to begin the sharing. People moved forward to kneel around the table, to my surprise, instead of passing the elements around, but that was no problem; I was accustomed to doing it that way in the past. Teri came to me and followed me round with the cup. Among the last to come forward was Sian, leading a dishevelled and somewhat odorous man and they remained there when everyone else had returned to their seats. The musicians began to play a song with a chorus about 'going into all the world', so Teri and I went over to the kneeling man. Sian looked up with appeal in her green eyes. "Just pray for the moment," she said, holding his hand.

I glanced at Teri, who shrugged and reached out to lay a hand on the man's shoulder.

"What's your name?"

He lifted his head to meet her eyes. "Robert," he answered, unsteadily.

I laid my hand on this other shoulder. "Come, Lord, Holy Spirit. Lighten the dark places and bring your healing love and power."

Teri's voice was a musical counterpoint to my prayer.

The song came to an end and before another could start I moved in front of the table and held up my hands.

"My friends ... sisters, brothers. I think you'll all agree that we've been united in praise this morning. We've shared in the ancient, central act of Christian life, and God has blessed us with His presence and in accepting and even leading our worship. It's time to share our lunch. If you're new here, please stay and join us – you'll be very welcome. I'm going to pray a blessing, then I'd like everyone to wish their neighbour 'the peace of the Lord' before going in search of tea or coffee."

There was more than a suspicion of a chuckle about that from the assembled people, but, "The blessing of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, be with us all, our families and friends, now and always. Amen."

There was a degree of chaos then as everyone did, in fact, begin to bless those around them and to move around to others too. When I turned back to Teri and Sian, Robert was standing and being hugged by Teri, then by Sian. Astonishing myself, responding to something like a compulsion, I embraced him too when Sian released him.

He began to shake. "How..." I realised he was weeping.

"Because Jesus loves you," I said, "And we love you, too."

"But ... I only came in to say..."

"What's important is you came in," I told him. "Come and have something to eat."

"Please, I need to say..." he took a deep breath, "you'll have gathered I'm on the streets. I was sleeping in a doorway opposite the church. Well, not really sleeping. Anyway, I saw two people go into the church. It was still night, don't know what time. No watch. But I could see them in the street lights. They came out after a while and painted those words on the doors. A man and a woman. They didn't see me. So ... I couldn't decide what to do. But I decided I just had to tell someone what I'd seen. But this young lady..."