A WEEK to go until their big day, the occasion for which they have worked so enthusiastically and anticipated so greatly, and we have some bad news for the good folk of Carrville.
The place which some assumed to be named after a military hero and others, after a benevolent lord of the manor - "People still talk about Squire Carr," someone supposed last Sunday - has a very different etymology. Our researches show that Carr is from the Old Norse "kjaar", meaning boggy. Carrville, a suburb of Durham just off the A1, simply means the village of clarts.
The rest of the news, however, is unequivocally, extraordinarily, good. They stand on much firmer ground now.
The handsome new Methodist church is not just finished but paid for and with money to spare, the open all hours anterooms imaginatively serve the community, the congregation had so much fun fund raising that they want to raise some more and to build (as it were) upon their camaraderie and their success.
The spanking, sparkling building will officially be opened at 3pm next Saturday by the Rev Graham Carter, chairman of the Darlington Methodist district, followed by the release of 1,000 balloons as a symbol of buoyancy and lift off.
Since Saturday at 3pm is also the precise time at which rather a lot of football matches kick off, we went last Sunday morning instead. It's terrific.
The old chapel had stood for 133 years on the same site and, while doubtless much loved, was not externally what might be called distinguished. In truth, it was hardly noticeable.
Winnie Martin, 87, tells of being hailed while sweeping up outside the chapel by a motorist who wanted to know where it was. You're outside it, she said.
"I'll miss the old place in a way, but at least everyone will know there's a Methodist chapel in Carrville," says Winnie, reputed to have poked the new brickwork with her walking stick and to have suggested that it would never last 133 years like the old one.
There've been Martins in Carrville chapel since it opened, though Winnie's afraid (she says) that she once spent a few years in another. This one, she concedes, is very attractive.
The bill, church alone, was around £287,000, of which with everything from ceilidh to coffee morning the local congregation has directly raised about half and secured grants for the remainder.
Latest income listed in the church magazine ranges from "sale of bird table" to "Virgin Vie party commission". Having got nowhere with the origins of Carrville we thought it imprudent, impudent even, to ask about Virgin Vie and why she was having a party.
"People are very proud of this building, there's a tremendous sense of satisfaction," says Dorothy Stewart, a member of the building committee. "We're really going to miss some of the things we did fund raising, but want to continue for other causes. It seemed a bit strange when we moved in three weeks ago, but already we're sitting here and there's a wonderful feel to the church. People are going to like it."
Since it was also the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity, the faithful of St Mary Magdalene's parish church in Belmont - Belmont and Carrville indivisible to the naked eye - were also in attendance.
Extra chairs were hurriedly humped. Much more of this and they'll have to plan another church before this one's officially opened.
Alison Wilkinson, the Methodist minister, spoke of the "joy and delight" that the Church of England was worshipping with them and gave thanks that they were "united but different".
Rob Innes, St Mary's vicar, announced that the Anglican and Methodist churches were going to be married - "not married yet, but betrothed".
For all last year's covenant signing, news of the nuptials may be a little premature, however. One of these columns last year carried a splendid story about Darlington councillor Roderick Burtt who's been happily engaged for about 35 years. Compared to the principal churches of this sceptred isle, Coun Burtt seems positively impulsive.
Helen Innes, the vicar's wife, gave a visually aided little talk - officially for the bairns - about turning water into wine. There was grape treading, and grape expectations.
"I believe the best Christian communities are made up of a wide mixture of different types of people," she said.
Alison - "a real live wire, throws herself into everything," someone said - has two children, three degrees and is studying for a doctorate. They were grateful to the Anglicans, she said, for teaching them about wine.
Far beyond the customary Methodist hour, the service lasted 92 minutes - "a real Cecil B de Mille job" someone said - and few would have noticed time passing.
Afterwards over coffee, Alison talked of the joy of coming to a church - she arrived two months before the old one closed - where all the debts were paid off. "Someone said we don't have a village church any more and we don't, we have a modern church for a modern era. If we are going to make an impact, this is what we need."
Others finalised plans for the big day, a celebration richly deserved. Mud in your eye, as probably they say in Old Norse.
* Sunday services at Carrville Methodist Church are at 10.30am and 6pm. The Rev Alison Wilkinson is on 0191-384 1221.
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