By: MARGARET BROWN
BEING ON holiday offers a change of scenery, a different perspective on life and a shock to the system, which can be quite tiring at times.
Out of a comfortable rut and adrift like a paper boat, there is one place that offers a semblance of normality. So, I called on the friend of a friend, in whose house we are staying, to ask about local churches and times of services.
As a devout Christian and regular church attendant, she knew every church within the small town of Neyland, where house groups met for Communion on a weekday, and anything else I might need while in west Wales.
So last Sunday, we went to St Clements: a large airy building from the early Victorian period, with a congregation of about 15 people, including the choir.
Father Paul gave a most excellent short sermon during which, he held up a balloon. He asked us, “what is this?”
“A balloon”, we replied. “And this?” he asked. “Another balloon”, as we wondered what was to come. Then he blew one up. “And what is in it?” “Hot air”, we said … Oh dear!
As it was the Sunday after Pentecost, we should have recognised it as his breath, a parallel to the presence of the breath of God, at the giving of the Holy Spirit to the Apostles.
With much amusement at our blindness, it helped me to feel at home there because laughter is no longer taboo, as it was in my youth.
In happy times, in the church of Nossa Senhora de Luz, gentle humour has always been a regular feature, suitably presented, and continues so in the hard hitting sermons of Father Haynes Hubbard.
The emptiness of St Clements puzzled me at first, until I discovered that the small town of Neyland is well blessed by churches and chapels of various denominations, thus splitting the numbers of worshippers into small groups.
Until now, I thought that pubs in Wales far outnumbered any other places of social congregation. However, there is one thing they have in common and that is the love of song.
