For pilgrims and tourists

Emma Tennant

CHURCHES IN RETIREMENT: A GAZETTEER edited by Michael Charlesworth, with a foreword by J. L. Carr

HMSO, f9.95, pp. 162

In 1941 Hans Dieter von Hassall was a German officer serving on the Russian front. On 5 September he wrote to his sister Fey, who lived in Italy. He described the appalling squalor and poverty of the Russian villages, and went on:

God has left us, the people here say, because he has no house any more. The churches are used as granaries, Soviet meeting-places etc. Now, nearly 50 years later, the cars and

lorries, the political meetings, and the heaps of grain cleared out, old babushkas are scrubbing away the filth of more than 70 years' neglect and abuse, the bells are once again calling the faithful to prayer, and the priests are worked off their feet. The moral and spiritual bankruptcy of communism is obvious to all, and the church is beginning to fill the void. But the problems are daunting. Holy Mother Rus- sia has thousands of derelict churches, many of them made of that most vulner- able material, wood, and even if the will to restore them is there, money and expertise are in desperately short supply.

No doubt Russians will be looking to us, in the stable, prosperous and at least nominally Christian West, for advice. What can we tell them?

We too have lost many churches in the last few decades. Some have been deliber- ately demolished; not, as in Russia, by the decree of a militantly atheist government, but because the Church of England cannot afford to maintain buildings whose con- gregation has dwindled or moved away. Others have collapsed after years of neg- lect and decay, exacerbated by vandalism. Yet more churches and chapels have been converted to other uses. Some, such as libraries or concert halls, are apt. But the sight of shops, warehouses and even pri- vate dwellings which were once places of worship is depressing, though it is now so familiar that one is no longer shocked. The luckiest disused churches are the 260 which are looked after by the Redundant Chur- ches Fund, and described in this fascinating book.

The RCF was set up in 1969. It is an independent body, funded by the govern- ment and the Church, and run by a small staff of dedicated experts. Its first chair- man was the heroic Ivor Bulmer Thomas who had earlier founded the Friends of the Friendless Churches.

From the Saxon tower of St Andrew, Bywell, to the Victorian extravagance of St Mary, Itchen Stoke, the churches looked after by the RCF illustrate the whole vast, rich, varied gamut of English architecture. They are not used for regular worship, but they have not been deconsecrated. As well as the occasional Harvest Festival or carol service,they can be used for weddings, christenings and funerals, and the Fund looks for other ways of keeping them `alive': concerts and exhibitions, for inst- ance.

I do not think these beautiful places are ever less than alive. Deeds speak louder than words, and the combined work of thousands of craftsmen over hundreds of years is an awesome and awe-inspiring sight. The buildings themselves, their fur- nishings and decoration, tell us so much about the masons and joiners, the plaster- ers, painters, sculptors, gilders, carvers, blacksmiths, organ-builders and bell- founders who made them. Their work was done to the glory of God:

Because this is my work, 0 Lord, It must be thine.

Because it is a human task It is divine.

The RCF maintains the highest standards of workmanship and, where necessary, of restoration. There is no danger of coming across a badly pointed or cement-rendered wall where its architects are in charge.

There are few more moving experiences than to approach one of these churches (often only accessible on foot), to push open the ancient creaking door and to find fresh flowers on the altar, the windows clean, the brass polished, and everything spick and span; a real haunt of ancient peace, a 'bank of prayer', as Harry Wil- liams puts it.

It is a sad reflection that the pilgrim now more likely to be a tourist ticking off the local sights — may derive more spir- itual uplift from such a place than from a working parish church complete with rib- bon pointing, hotel-style swing door, powder-blue carpet, plastic flowers and matey literature 'welcoming' the visitor.

We were told in church last Sunday that the 1990s are to be a Decade of Evangel- ism. Whatever that means, it behoves the Church of England to remember John Betjeman's experience:

Church crawling the said] is the richest of pleasures. It leads you to the remotest and quietest country. It introduces you to the history of England in stone and wood and glass, which is always truer than what you read in books. It was through looking at churches that I came to believe in the reasons why churches were built.

This book, with its succinct descriptions and excellent photographs is good value at £9.95. Whether you are a pilgrim or a tourist, you should have it in your car.

Emma Tennant is a member of the council of the National Trust.