| |
> Editorial
> What's the Story?
> Mrs. Fixit
> Desperately Seeking Ingredients...
> Passionate about Mill Road
> Caribbean Masterchef
> Everything is Possible!
> A Sanctuary on Mill Road
> Boat People
> Going Green with Al-Amin
> The Akashi Project
> Open All Hours
> Mesmerised by Meze
> Come Together
> The Girl from Arapau
> Still Sweet and Spicy
> A Real Neighourhood
> Lei Si Fan Mei?
> Flight from Baghdad
> Streets of Revolution
> Stepping up the Ladder
|
|
A Sanctuary on Mill Road
If you are not a churchgoer, Cambridge’s many churches can become mere landmarks on your way to other places. It’s easy to cycle or walk by St Barnabas Anglican Church on the crossroad of Mill Road and Gwydir Street, and never enter it.
It is only when you step through its glass doors that its enormous size, not to mention its function, become apparent. When community outreach worker Alan Lowe welcomes me in and the doors close behind me, it is the immediate hush I notice The bustle of Mill Road is only a faintly perceived murmur outside this sanctuary.
‘We have a congregation of some 270 attending our biggest Sunday morning service’, says Alan as we walk up into the massive nave. A drum kit and amplifiers are on the stage. ‘We have about five different bands who take it in turns to play at services. We’re very family oriented.’
I can’t help asking why there is what seems to be a half-inflated mini-swimming pool in the front entrance, complete with electric inflator. ‘Baptism’, says Alan. ‘Total immersion. For adults. I think we’ve got a slow leak.’
|
Click image to enlarge
|
Outside through the glass front doors, I can see a bearded man. He’s wearing a panama hat and gesticulating urgently. When a secretary from the office opens the door to him, he politely asks for a cup of tea.
‘We seek to be a place of welcome for all’, Alan explains. ‘There is a Sunday club when the lonely or anyone who is having a hard time can become a member and drop in, but if someone turns up on our door step, we’ll never turn anyone away. You never know who it might be; we may be their last chance.’
Apart from the comradeship of others and a listening ear, the Sunday Club provides food. ‘Sausage rolls, cake and tea, mainly. But we always make sure there are egg sandwiches, for some reason they’re a big pull.’
We pass out into a central courtyard and cross to the Old School Hall where a mother and toddlers’ group is in full swing (a poster for a dad and babies group shows a euphoric father). ‘We hosted part of the Mill Road Winter Fair in here’, says Alan. ‘We must have had a thousand people through these doors.’
‘Barnabas was known as the “man of encouragement” ’, says Nick Ladd, vicar at St Barnabas. The mission to encourage and include seems something this church takes literally. Apart from providing a popular lunch and sociability on Sundays for some of Cambridge’s many international students, there’s a once-monthly storytelling group for those who may feel on the margins of community, a ‘soup run’, and regular services in nearby Ditchburn Place sheltered housing complex. ‘We’ll send volunteer teams out to help a disabled person do their garden, or perhaps someone needs assistance painting and decorating their home’, says Nick. ‘Caring for people in the community is part of our mission.’
Nor is ‘community’ confined just to Mill Road; one of the church’s Global Partners is working on a project to build solar ovens in a remote village in a former Soviet republic in Central Asia, while another is starting up an HIV/AIDS awareness project.
As I step back into the buzz and hum of Mill Road, the bearded visitor is on a bench outside, downing the last of his mug of tea. ‘Thanks, mate’, he says, handing me his empty mug. ‘You saved my life!’
> back to top
|
|
