IF it is true that the devil has all the best tunes, as popularly is supposed, then the Church of England comes a close second. Thus was it particularly disappointing that number two on the hymn sheet - the gloriously resounding O For a Thousand Tongues to Sing - was sung not only to the wrong tune but to a tune so uninspiring in comparison that it could have been written in three and a half minutes on the inside flap of a Woodbine packet.

It was a Methodist occasion, a three hour celebration in song. If there weren't a thousand singers there were comfortably over 100 and apart from that tongues-tied beginning, it was brilliant.

Carwood Methodist Chapel at Witton Park closed 12 years ago, the congregation of 25 or so no longer able to sustain their crumbling old edifice. "We talked about a new chapel one day, but in our hearts I think everyone wondered if it would ever happen," said Evelyn Swinbank.

For six years they met in the waiting room - appropriate, really - at the former railway station and for another six after that in the community centre.

Last Sunday afternoon, at an open air gathering at Bob Wolff's place above the Co Durham village, they launched the project to build Carwood's replacement, driven by a congregation that has risen both in faith and in numbers. Eight new members were admitted last month.

"Our faith has deepened because it wasn't centred on church buildings but on worship, where it should be," said Evelyn. "The community centre is wonderful because we just pay the rent with no bills and no wages to worry about, but we need to be more visible in the village.

"People don't think of it as a church, they still think of it as a community centre. It's not just from the top of our heads, we've prayed very hard about this."

It was also a metaphor for Witton Park, once crucible of the campaign against the County Council's Category D policy and itself vibrantly born again.

Sunday's gathering had attracted folk from all over Durham. We bumped into Melvyn McConnell, who in ancient times had taught us history, into John Armstrong - 47 years the local councillor - who recalled that the handsomely converted Wolff family home was once the engineman's house at Jane Pit - and into Dave Brunskill, who once played football for Shildon. The Lady of This House has a theory that it's impossible to go anywhere in the world without meeting someone who once played football for Shildon. She may well be right.

Bob Wolff led proceedings himself, occasionally accompanied by a dog called Ernest that was the size of a suburban sideboard. He also has a killer parrot called Walter, which nips like Violet Elizabeth Bott but may not lisp so badly.

"When the wind's in the west they'll hear us in Witton Park," said Bob, though it wasn't so much the wind that concerned them as the ubiquitous prospect of rain, the thunder that reverberated up the A68 and the vast black clouds which periodically put their head round the gate, thought better of their effrontery and blew off to annoy someone else.

There was also a sketch plan of the proposed new premises, but the easel collapsed in a heap. The church's one foundation, happily, is made of sterner stuff.

Friendly young ladies came round with coffee and chocolates and things, Eddie's snack van sat at the bottom of the garden - burgers inclusive of admission - news arrived of Henman's demise, and of the cricketers' collective catastrophe.

There were 38 hymns on the sheet, and too late for alternative arrangements in the event of merciless inclemency. Plan B was singing in the rain.

We began with How Great Thou Art, recently voted Britain's favourite hymn. After the third, another rumble of thunder, a few transparently pessimistic rain hats and a reminder from Richard Bainbridge, the energetic minister, that they must rebuild for the right reasons and not because it was someone's pet project, or little empire. "It is to the glory and praise of God," he said. "We feel strongly that this is what He has called us to do at this time."

Probably inadvertently, Richard also offered thanks for "the blessings showered upon us". At that moment the smattering not only stopped but he found a money spider on his hand.

The land for the new place - there's an interesting debate about whether it should properly be called church or chapel or (as the minister said) the chapel where the church meets - is already bought, comfortingly close to a part of Witton Park known as Paradise.

The building will seat 150, have meeting rooms and a state of the art audio-visual and projector systems, serve - it's hoped - as a church centre for a much wider community.

John Swinbank and his friend Gordon Franklin plan a two-day coast to coast cycle ride starting on July 27. "I don't think we'll make the sort of money we need with coffee mornings," he said.

Feeling that the weather might be about to misbehave, or exposed too long to Ernest and to the elements, a number left at the interval. The column went after two hours, by which time they had reached Shine Jesus Shine. There's probably only one tune to Shine Jesus Shine and they could hear its message, clearly, in Witton Park.