Moving spirit

THEY were not as other men, or at least as other Methodists. “We were fairly different from most other churches in the circuit,”

admits Adrian Hancock.

“We were left pretty much to our own devices, to be fair, but there was a growing feeling that Methodism as a church was probably not heading in a way that we wanted to head.”

Three-and-a-half years ago, the morning congregation at West Auckland Methodists voted unanimously to leave. If the spirit moved, as they would suppose, it didn’t move them very far.

The Methodist church is now closed, unused. West Auckland Community Church meets, and grows, in the village Memorial Hall a quarter of a mile away.

“A lot of the church’s money was going to keep up old buildings and pay full-time people. We weren’t entirely persuaded that that was the best way,” says Adrian, one of four senior leaders.

“We wanted to reach into the community, to build relationships, to be a family. I would like to hope that we are making our faith relevant, alive for today, not pie in the sky.”

They started with 30 members, now have about 45 – half from the West Auckland area, half from as far away as Frosterley, in Weardale, and grateful for a 4x4 on a black-icy morning like last Sunday.

“It’s not setting the world alight but it’s steady,” says Adrian, himself a former Methodist minister. “Village people are more comfortable here; this is their hall, not the church’s.

“The split was obviously harder for some than others. All my Christian history has been in Methodism, but we felt that money could be put to better uses than supporting a structure.

“It was a remarkably smooth transfer, most people at home by the second week. It was reasonably amicable, no histrionics or anything like that, but it’s very sad that the Methodist church has closed.”

WEST Auckland Memorial Hall is used for much else, from slimming club to something called New Age Kurling.

It takes two hours from 7.15am to set up the church, an hour to return things to the way they were.

It’s warm, welcoming, informal.

I’m the only one wearing a tie. Another chap wears braces over his T-shirt and thus rather resembles Jed Clampett, he of the Beverley Hillbillies.

“We’re far from a perfect church,”

says the website, “so you’ll feel quite at home with us.”

The service starts with a wonderfully upbeat version of Be Thou My Vision, words projected onto the televisual equivalent of a large-print hymn book. It’s led by Kim Carr, who’s something at the Job Centre; two-thirds of the music group, it’s said, are County Plumbing Services.

The song’s barely past its first vers, however, before something happens that creates a record in 17 years of the At Your Service column. They pass around the offertory baskets.

Most wait until near the end. The thought occurs that, like the good old days of the Post Office, this may simply be the first collection. It remains the only one.

The song’s followed by one-sentence prayers by congregation members. “We thank you Lord for bringing us here safely this morning,”

someone says. Too true; it’s treacherous out.

There’s also a short contribution from Andy Marshall, a former paid youth worker at the Methodist church who’s now a volunteer at the village young people’s drop-in centre.

He’d been there the previous Thursday evening, been threatened and “terribly” abused. The evening was saved, says Andy – “worth all the rubbish” – by a youngster who expressed interest in what they were trying to do.

West Auckland’s young folk have proved so great a problem, indeed, that the church only allows them when accompanied by an adult. “It was nothing like a workable situation,”

says Adrian afterwards.

He’d been a minister in Plymouth, was asked to establish a church community in a night club and red light district, is now managing director of a London-based technology company.

His 35-minute address begins with thoughts on the Book of Ecclesiastes.

“If you’re feeling depressed and read the first five chapters, you’ll probably feel suicidal after that,” he says.

There are references to elections in Sudan, to the shootings in Arizona – “Sometimes I just don’t understand,”

says Adrian, honestly – and to the “fantastic” film The King’s Speech that he’d seen the previous evening.

“It’s so easy to miscommunicate,”

says Adrian, and the inky trade would say Amen to that.

WHEN they left the Methodist church they took nothing with them. There’s a biblical reference to that, something about shaking dust off the shoes.

Evidence of both commitment and generosity – “It’s been phenomenal, quite humbling really,” says Adrian – they’ve not only equipped and rented their new meeting place and supported numerous charities, but bought a former shop on the village green.

In the spring, they hope, it’ll open as another drop-in centre – everything from coffee to debt counselling – called The Well.

“We want it to be the face of the church,” says Ed Farrar, another leader. “It’s not an easy thing to understand, but sometimes the church building itself can be a barrier.”

In time, they suppose, they might look for their own “church” – not in some elderly ecclesiastical building but on an industrial estate nearby.

The service ends after 80 minutes, followed by coffee and biscuits. Some of us sit and chat, others must clear away the physical evidence of the church. The New Age Kurling club is probably due in next.

■ West Auckland Community Church meets in the Memorial Hall at 10am every Sunday and also has house groups. Details on westaucklandcc.net