When is a hat a hat?

New Farm Chapel, Alresford

It is not my intention in this post to judge any group but rather to record my own experiences and misgivings. New Farm Chapel, the church my parents went to, was one of the caldrons of my childhood. Back then it was heavily influenced by the Open Brethren movement, and thus it was strong on Bible teaching. Which is not a bad thing. And strong on some other areas like the rapture, women may not lead or preach, women must have their heads covered in church, and that anything that smelled of pentecostal should be avoided like the plague. There was a girl, one of my peers, who returned from some third party Christian youth camp, exuberant because she had witnessed healings and levels of praise that thrilled here - and I remember that words were said... And I overheard one staid member chatting to my father about strange groups that met in houses and put scripture to music, as if that were wrong. Least-ways that is how my memory recalls. And something inside me said: hey - something is wrong here.  But, like Mary, I kept all these things and pondered them in my heart, and remained thoroughly conservative in the meantime.

The head covering rule was followed in similar fashion to our own 'rule' that women should not wear "pants" (as our friends across the sea call them) unless for modesty. The game was to see how small a covering would be acceptable - for example a tiny square of material pinned to the hair. Which begs the question: when is a hat a hat?

However, the positives outweighed these negatives and, all said and done, I bless and honour those folk for the input they had into my life. After all, it was after a gospel meeting at the age of 10 that, whilst my mother prayed with me, I gave my life to God. Or at least I said I would. Or at least I started to. For us humans can vacillate so easily. And, later at age 14 and at my own request, it was there that I was baptised.

The breaking of bread service is a hall-mark of the brethren movement and it was, once I was old enough to understand it, very meaningful to me. In later years I found the communion service at the Anglican college chapel at Oriel very different but equally meaningful. In contrast to my experience at the very friendly and sincere baptist church where Ali and I met and were later married - where communion was tacked on to the regular Sunday meeting as a sort of after-thought every 4th Sunday and consisted of dry, tiny squares of shop bread and Ribena in individual shot-glasses. Ribena is a great drink and, for me, is associated with many fond childhood memories, but it is no substitute for wine.

The ceiling of New Farm's sanctuary originally had a raised central section half-cylindrical in shape and, in the semicircle so described at the pulpit end, was a raised panel declaring in gilt lettering on a maroon back that "every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord" with the bible reference Phi 2:11 in a smaller font at the bottom.

A major renovation was carried out in my time in which extra rooms were added along the far side and the main hall was extended and the ceiling altered so that the raised part was wider and now only a segment of a cylinder, lit by a line of fluorescent tubes either side hidden in a pelmet. I see in the stock picture above that, since my time, they have extended upwards so that there is now a second story at the rear.

The church secretary, an older man who was referred to lovingly by one of our family friends as "Eddie Whirlpool" for his getting confused when giving the announcements, was a professional sign writer and it was he who painted that panel so beautifully.

courtesy Google Streetview

This is where he worked - he ran a small Christian bookshop on the ground floor and had his sign-writing shop upstairs. He was related to or a family friend of my best friend D and we would sometimes drop in for something to do - it was only a few hundred yards from where I lived. He would furnish us with paint and brushes and we would wile away a happy afternoon - I loved the smell of the paints. On one occasion I painted, not very well, a Narnian banner - a red lion rampant on a bright green field.

Genuine gold leaf

Some of E's sign-writing demanded gilt lettering - his method, as I remember, was to paint a base-coat in a sort of gold yellow and then apply the gold leaf from a book like the one above.

Powerscourt House, Co. Wicklow

Having been brought up "brethren" it is curious that I should now live not that far from a nursery of the brethren movement, Powerscourt House. Here it was that Lady Powerscourt hosted meetings that J. N. Darby frequented. The now widely accepted rapture theory also had its roots here.

Curious also that I should marry a girl who had been brought up in the exclusive brethren.

I never considered New Farm chapel as brethren "proper" - other brethren assemblies I had visited were far drier and stricter - some even to the point of men one side and women the other side of the aisle.  In the same way as I have never considered our present church as properly a part of the movement some claim it is part of. Maybe that's just the rebellious streak in me, or maybe it is because I hold dearly to the belief, held by both expressions, in the autonomy of the local assembly.

Which is why I a bit of a problem with the quote "In view of the above this meeting of elders of Auckland assemblies considers that xxx Gospel Centre has put itself outside the fellowship of Assemblies known as 'open brethren' ". Just as when is a hat a hat, when is a local expression truly autonomous?