This is not a photo of me, nor is it Swanvale Halt church: it is my friend Fr Newcombe at Hoxton celebrating the holy Epiphany of Christ last weekend. I do like those spangly drapes creating a special space in the church where there was none. Andrew has a knack of using ordinary things to introduce the celebratory and grand into somewhat commonplace church spaces, as he did for Pentecost at Ponders End. Meanwhile, at Swanvale Halt itself we doggedly keep the big feasts, as a rule, on the specified days themselves rather than gravitate them all to the nearest Sunday, so this year Epiphany fell on Wednesday and we had an evening Mass. Epiphany is my one chance in the year to remind myself how to be thurifer so I invited my colleagues from the Deanery to volunteer to celebrate the mass with our curate Marion as deacon, and first to put up his hand was Fr C from Nigeria who would, he pointed out, be marking the anniversary of his ordination. He presided with great applomb and wielded the thurible even more flamboyantly than I would have done. One of the choir sang a splendid Journey-of-the-Magi solo during communion (a last-minute decision, apparently), and we had 26 in the congregation of whom no fewer than 6 were clergy - not just the three of us up front, but also Fr C's vicar, the retired hospital chaplain who has started coming to us occasionally, and an OLM from a nearby parish. I was especially delighted to see someone else wearing my old gold vestments which I was relieved to observe do actually look as splendid as I imagined. Although I am officially on leave this week and so was breaking into my time off in just the way one shouldn't do, the mass was a complete treat, a bit like doing Christmas without all the stress and expectation. Thank you, Lord.
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