The other day my parents and I went to the church flower show of our neighbouring village. ‘Aldenham’ used to be the name of the entire area, but now it only refers to this one little hamlet, so stereotypically English, with it’s village green surrounded by little cottages (with roses round the doors), and the old church standing tall in the centre. It’s all hidden from the main road, so driving in can sometimes feel like you’ve stepped into an episode of Miss Marple.
The flower show was interesting. I have grown up being taken to churches all over England – mostly due to my Dad’s passion for religion of all kinds! At Christmas time, we used to go to the carol service at our local church and in my secondary school years, I used to perform with the school choir in St Albans Abbey.
My sister and I even used to go to Easter arts and crafts workshops, run by our local church. I’m not sure quite what we made of all the Easter basket decorating – I remember once making a clumsy replica of the cave from which Jesus rose again and covering it with yellow primroses and hyacinths. They used to sing a song:
Roll the stone, roll the stone, roll the stone away…
Jesus died, now he’s alive, so let’s all celebrate!
Hm. It had actions too 
I think these experiences have made me feel very at home in churches. When I was younger I always used to get excited about the ritual of lighting a candle, saying a prayer (to Krishna, how ironic) and putting 10p in the donation box. I still like doing it. With their high, arching ceilings and the jewel toned light from the stained glass windows, churches are designed to make people feel closer to God, and it does work. The space is a sacred one, no matter which God you believe in – and if you happen to believe that God is one with many names, like me, all the better.
So, I was a little surprised when we entered the church flower show to find that it had the theme of ‘Inn Signs’. Every flower display was themed on a local pub, and throughout the pews I could see empty beer bottles carefully placed as ‘decoration’. I even found one within inches of the main altar. I suppose with the religious upbringing I’ve had it’s somewhat of a visual oxymoron. Oh well. In the little booklet they gave us when we came in, it was supposed to be celebrating the ancient history of the patronage of local brewers to the church. It made me reflect on churches, and how much they were (or are) tied to spirituality and religion and how much they served more as a social centre – a place to meet before making merry…
Before we left, we had a quick chat with the vicar there – Rev. Alan Fletcher. He is a friend of the devotees at Bhaktivedanta Manor and visits whenever we have an open day or cultural evening. He was really pleased that we had come to support a church event and I think that perhaps our spontaneous visit that day will have positive repercussions to come. It’s so nice to see, in the political climate of the world today, people of faith just respecting and appreciating each other for also believing in God.
Amen.
