THE Rev Dr Robert Innes is 41, portrays the very picture of rude good health - a bit like the young Bamber Gascoigne, truth to tell - and suggests a man of many talents in the High Summer of his days.
It is, perhaps, just as well. Vicars of the parish of St Mary Magdalene, Belmont, where the 150th anniversary was joyously celebrated last Sunday, have an regrettable habit of leaving feet first.
The mournful trend has been so marked that Dave Drinkwater's admirable parish history feels obliged to record that when the Rev Charles King died in office in 1971 it was "not because he was Vicar of Belmont but because of his experiences as a prisoner of war."
Mr Drinkwater concedes, however, that "good health and Belmont vicars have not always gone together."
Belmont is an eastern suburb of Durham City, a coal mining community when the parish was formed - the Grange iron foundry went hammer and tongs, too - much given to gambling and (bemoaned the 1928 incumbent) "an excess of dances which continue to 2am."
As recently as 1949, the Rev Lawrence Pickles reported (unkindly) that 85 per cent of the parish was of what he termed low mentality.
"No rich or well bred persons live in the village. Definitely weak, therefore, in natural leaders," he added. Mr Pickles, fit and well, left soon afterwards for the more affluent acres of Essex.
Belmont, which includes the adjoining and barely divisible communities of Carrville and Broomside, is much changed from the time that the church was consecrated in 1857, said to be of the type offered to the "wilder parts of Britain" and frowned upon by the oft-curmudgeonly Nikolaus Pevsner.
Now the parish has 10,000 people, several burgeoning private housing estates, three schools and three industrial estates where electronics companies simply coruscate with the bright sparks that Vicar Pickles so greatly lamented.
The service to mark the anniversary embraced every element. It was carefully conceived and impeccably delivered, a memorable and a magnificent occasion.
The church overflowed, bairns on laps and grown-ups happily standing at the back. A helpful lady tried to find the column a seat - "Sorry that pew's Brownies, that one's GFS" - until someone remembered that a place had been reserved just two rows behind the mayor.
We were reminded of the multi-purpose parable of the wedding feast in the 14th chapter of St Luke. "Friend, go up higher."
The theme was of thanksgiving and of building on solid foundations. A local GP read from Corinthians, sub-titled "Building for Life"; the Mayor read from Matthew, sub-titled "Wise and foolish builders."
(This must not, of course, be construed as a reference to any burgher or borough engineer of the city of Durham, past or present, in any capacity whatsoever.)
Dr Innes, known to his friends as Rob, announced that they were not a church which stood greatly on ceremony. Clearly, however, they were a church which isn't standing still, either.
Helen Wilson, 17, and Margaret Hampson (who is a wee bit older) talked on the chancel steps about how the parish had changed; the children sang Ace Foundations, a sort of ecclesiastical hand jive in which the congregation was invited to participate.
Unfortunately the children formed a screen between the rest of the congregation and the Bishop of Durham, also in attendance. We are unable to report, therefore, whether it was among his preferred means of communication.
The Bishop, the Rt Rev Michael Turnbull, referred in his sermon to the difficult junction on which St Mary's sits - "a good church on a bad corner" - and acknowledged that, over the years, every parish would have its rows. For further evidence, Bishop Michael told us, read Dave Drinkwater's book.
Jenny Moberly, the curate - for 12 years a professional singer in Vienna - then led a cleverly constructed exercise ("Building with hope") in which we were all invited to write or draw on a brick coloured card to represent the element most vital to St Mary's future.
Since the column could only ever draw steam engines, and only then when awaiting the breaker's yard, we wrote the word "Love" instead.
Together the cards built the front of an impromptu altar, on which was placed a miner's lamp to represent the past, a Phillips television and a collage of school photographs to represent the present and imminent plans for a big new parish hall to symbolise the future.
They were, it seemed, an affectionate, buoyant, socially conscious church, though they're a bit worried about poor Rob Innes.
His first degrees were in engineering, the first seven years of his working life in computer consultancy in London - where probably he earned as much in a month as a Church of England priest does in a year - before studying theology and becoming curate of St Cuthbert's, Durham, in 1995. He moved up to Belmont in July 1999.
Rob was a wonderful man and they wouldn't keep him, they whispered afterwards. He'd be onwards and upwards, they said, the next Archbishop of Canterbury but one (or just possibly two.)
The column, alas, is not (yet) on the appointments commission. After a wholly invigorating morning, we could only thank the Vicar of Belmont for his welcome and wish him very well.
* The Church on the Bad Corner, Dave Drinkwater's history of the parish and church of Belmont, is available from him at 7 Staffordshire Drive, Belmont, Durham for £2 50, plus £1 p&p
Published: 09/02/02
Comments: Our rules
We want our comments to be a lively and valuable part of our community - a place where readers can debate and engage with the most important local issues. The ability to comment on our stories is a privilege, not a right, however, and that privilege may be withdrawn if it is abused or misused.
Please report any comments that break our rules.
Read the rules hereComments are closed on this article