Waiting for the miracle to come ...
The title of Leonard Cohen's song came into my head this morning as I sat waiting before the Eucharist today in Holy Trinity Dunoon. The congregation was still congregating, in the usual depleted start-of-the hols way; the organist was putting the hymn numbers on the board; the candles had been lit and the legilium put in place.
It struck me then how empty the church can look these days - the choir stalls were removed some time ago. leaving a wide space in front of the altar rail, and there is no nave altar at Sunday services. I love this stripped-down look (so dislike the legilium, which clutters the Ministry of the Word part of things) - even to the removal of the choir stalls in which I used to sit every Sunday and which subsequently served as a reminder of things past and now no longer appropriate.
The varnished wooden floor and plain plaster walls make for a lovely acoustic; the sound system worked properly today so that there was no sense of being in Central Station - a horrid thing when the beauty of the building lies as much in its sound as in the visuals.
And that is my church, from my pew, where I sit every week. It is also the only photo I took today - first rain, then gardening, kept me from wandering with my camera.