With college I attended a covenant service at the New Room the other evening. A lovely experience. To say that amazing covenant prayer in the New Room in Bristol was very special - especially at this time.
I don’t revere Wesley like some Methodists do but nevertheless it was quite something to imagine him stood in the pulpit preaching or administering communion. Both members of staff wore black cassocks and tabs and it was very fitting.
Unfortunately, yours truly broke the spell slightly. As you may know in the Covenant Service there are four Bible readings. 3 fellow students had read the Old Testament lessons and the Epistle from the lower deck pulpit.
T o get to the pulpit you have to go up a wooden flight of stairs into the gallery, across the gallery and reach the top deck for preaching or go down half a dozen setps to get to the lower deck to read the Bible.
We had a hymn and it was time for the Gospel. And no one made a move to read it. We all looked at each other. There were disapproving glares from the preacher in the Top pulpit. Then someone whispered “Go on Benny” (Well, they used my Christian name but you get the idea.)
Now there are two of us with the same Christian name. And I looked at him and he looked at me. Then in the dark recesses of my mind a bell rang. I’d been asked before Christmas to do the Gospel reading. My Christian name was on the order of service but I’d thought it must be the other chap.
So I got out of the box pew, crossed the wooden floor, chased up the flight of stairs into the gallery, crossed to the pulpit, down the steps into the lower pulpit, took my time introducing the reading while I tried to find it in the Bible, all the time trying to catch my breath! The retracing my steps made such a racket as the preacher started the sermon that I sat down under the gallery like a naughty boy in the corner rather than go back to my pew.
And faux pas of faux pas (for staff anyway) I forgot to do the “This is the Gospel of Christ” stuff.
I did feel a bit bad in having broken up the flow of this wonderful service but did God mind? I don’t think so.
I’m reminded of the story of John Gielgud who apparently was due to read one the lessons at Laurence Olivier’s memorial service. The lesson was announced and there was no sign of Sir John. But then there was the sound of footsteps processing down the aisle from the back the church. It took a couple of minutes for him to walk down the aisle, enter the pulpit, put on his reading glasses, find the lesson and then read it (from memory!). But what an entrance, And every eye in “the house” was on him.
I now know the feeling, but unlike JG I would rather have not been so dramatic in my entrance.
