If you have ever lived in the York area you will know that the only place to meet for afternoon tea is Betty's Tearoom, so on Tuesday, 21st November that's where you would have found us, Val and Barrie Blewitt, Val and Neil Grainger, Daphne, Susan O'Donnell, Roger and me, plus our Archdeacon, Paul Hughes and his wife Liz. Actually Roger was not there. He'd had trouble parking and took ages to get back to us. We decided he'd gone for fish and chips. Eventually he returned and gallantly helped Sue finish her Yorkshire cream tea. The light was fading and the Christmas lights beginning to sparkle as we chatted, sipped tea, and ate cakes presented on elegant three-tier cake stands. Then it was time to step out into the November chill and make our way down narrow, historic Stonegate, passing a shop selling armour and weapons. This reminded Roger of one particular wedding in Streatley where all present wore medieval dress, the bridegroom resplendent in glittering armour made from old baked-bean tins. Suddenly the mood changed and we were out in the open and there in front of us was York Minster, massive and flood-lit.
Why were we here? We were among the twelve finalists for the Ecclesiastical Insurance Competition 2006, and were in York for the final judging and awards ceremony. We were to begin our evening with Evensong in the Minster. We had been asked to arrive well before the start of the service so there was chance to wander alone through the great cathedral. The visitors had gone, the shop was shutting and there was a feeling that this vast building was settling down into the deep silence of the night. As time for the start of the service approached we gathered in front of the great chancel screen of the kings. Our guide later pointed out to us that the carvers could only do two faces and had to make the figures look different by giving them distinctive hair styles, thus William the Conqueror looked rather like our present Archbishop of Canterbury on a bad hair day.
Now it was time to file into the Chancel and take our places for Evensong. We heard the choir sing the introductory responses out in the nave and we stood as they processed into the cathedral and into their candle-lit pews. If you had watched the television programmes about York Minster, it was a bit disconcerting to see familiar faces of senior choristers, Master of Music, and Dean. Listening to the traditional words of the service and to the singing of the choir in such a superb setting was a truly memorable occasion.
We were then taken on a guided tour of the Minster and our guide was excellent. He told us all the facts but lightened them with amusing little touches like the statue carved with two right feet and that when the nave ceiling had to be replaced after one of the Minster's disastrous fires the Victorians had the boss of the Virgin Mary altered. Rather than showing her breast-feeding the infant Christ, she is now shown bottle-feeding him in the interests of modesty and good taste.
As for the Minster itself, it is a miracle it is standing at all. What had started as a simple wooden missionary outpost in 640 gradually became a great cathedral, one so wide that at the time of building it could not be spanned by stone and wood had to be used. Hence the series of terrible roof-fires, the last one about 30 years ago. The tower also has been a constant source of problems. Its great weight has pushed the sides of the Minster apart. About 40 years ago it became apparent that some thing had gone wrong. One side was moving far faster than normal. When architects investigated, they found that the only foundation was a simple wooden raft put in by the Normans. One pillar had slipped off the raft and was sinking fast. As they investigated further, they came upon Roman masonry and discovered that the Minster had been built directly over the Roman citadel. There were poignant reminders of the doomed Ninth Legion. Workmen at the site hated to be left alone there and one reported seeing the ghostly figures of a Roman Legion marching across the site. Only the top halves of their bodies were visible. Their feet were presumably marching on a road under the level of the excavations. As we stood gazing at the great tower, the guide told us that Constantine had been declared Emperor about 14 feet under where we were standing. What a historic place!
The only disadvantage of visiting the Minster by night is that we were unable to see the superb stained glass. And it is superb; it is some of the best stained glass in the world. Many years ago, as a school girl, I remember standing with my friends in Chartres Cathedral. The guide was pointing out to us its wonderful glass. We perhaps looked less impressed than was polite because he asked where we came from. When we replied, "York," he gave one of those expressive French shrugs and said, "I understand."
The tour over, there was one problem. How to get out? Eventually we were let out through the 'Police Door'. As we looked up our view was dominated by the great tower, beautifully spot-lit. Yet another unforgettable moment.
Time for another change of mood. We made our way to St. William's College for the final part of the evening. St. William, by the way, was an Archbishop of York who was not universally loved. He died shortly after being enthroned, poisoned, it is said, by communion wine into which his Archdeacon had popped a special little something. So if ever an Archdeacon comes to Streatley...
St. William's is a lovely half-timbered college, built round a central courtyard. No wall is straight, ceilings have ominous-looking cracks running through them, and no floor is quite level so if you can't walk in a straight line it's not always the wine that's to blame. We were offered drinks and there was a brief opportunity to chat with other contestants, then we were shown in to the Mclagan Hall for food (the vanilla slices and meringues were lovely) and presentations. It being Streatley, we'd soon bagged the front table and settled down to enjoy ourselves.
The actual presentation was very interesting. We were shown the calendar page for each of the prize-winning parishes and told what the judges considered to be their particular strengths. Our strong points were deemed to be: the setting up of a Regeneration group; the restructuring of our worship to make it more accessible; and the standard of communication within the parish. As we watched it was clear we were certainly among the stronger contenders but that we would be lucky to get one of the top prizes and that's how it turned out to be. My sneaky feeling is that if a 4th prize had been awarded, we'd have got it.
So what was the difference between us and one of the winning parishes? What we had done was to take the best practice we had seen and to customise it to suit Streatley. What the winners had done was to try something totally original. So impressed were we by the ultimate winners, St. Andrew's Kettering, that we are hoping to arrange a visit there sometime early next year.
Did not winning spoil it for us? To be honest, we're a bit of a competitive bunch and we'd really rather have liked to win but to reach the stage we did was quite an achievement. Those of us fortunate enough to go to York enjoyed an evening we shall never forget. Each of us will have our own personal memories and these are mine. Above all, I am left with feelings of gratitude - grudging gratitude to Susan O'Donnell for forcing us to enter the competition; gratitude to the members of the Regeneration Group for all their work. (I know it is wrong to single out individuals in such a hard-working group but I was very disappointed that Ian Woodward couldn't be with us. The standard of our communication was singled out for mention and many of the improvements in that area are thanks to him.) Gratitude also to Ecclesiastical Insurance for organising the competition; and gratitude that I am part of the hard-working, forward-looking parish that is Streatley.
Ros Wood
Click here to see some of the photographs of the event.