Mobilising volunteers

Today, after the Parish Eucharist, St John's welcomed members of the United Services Mess for their annual service. Only a couple of dozen people came, reflecting the general downturn in support for the Mess, that has contributed to the crisis currently being faced by this venerable Cardiff institution. In its ninety-ninth year it has had to shed its sole remaining full time staff employee, and is now in the throes of reorganising itself using a rota of unpaid volunteers.

After the service I went over to the Mess for a drink before returning home for lunch. It was clear that members and their wives were enjoying rising to the new challenge of using the cash till and changing gas cylinders on the beer pumps. A couple of people were quietly stock-taking, getting the true measure of demand and supply, and planning a general revision and tidy up, to make it easier for the team of volunteers who would be offering hospitality in future.

The most encouraging thing I could do was to recount how St John's Tea Room volunteers had over seven years of work raised £100,000 to pay for the redecoration of the church, which offering a much valued service to people from far and wide. The total ownership of a community organisation by its membership can be very fruitful, when they take common cause. My best wish is that the present crisis management experience will revitalise the community of Mess members and help it find a direction appropriate for present times and needs.

It's not as if South Wales is short of potential membership from both military and civilian uniformed organisations, especially with the development of the huge new military academy at St Athan, on top of the active service units based there. The real challenge is making the Mess a networking place for these people when their service activties have them so much on the move. I don't believe that few ever come into Cardiff, but that it's is a question of finding out when they do and how it is possible for the Mess to offer them what they need attractively. That's the big challenge for the Mess committee.

At tonight's PCC meeting we discussed the timing of the Sunday Eucharist, and agreed that we would move it to 10.00am when the clocks go back. The difficulty many have with the earlier time is a lack of public transport to get people into the city on time. To hear anyone mentioning public transport is enough to convince me that we should do this, although I am aware this will eventually bring us into conflcit with the pedestrianisation regulations. I don't suppose this will give us real grief until after the redevelopment plan is complete, another eighteen months from now. That's when consistent regulation enforcement will really be practicable.

Between now and then there's a certain amount of diplomacy needing to be done to ensure the problem of access for those who cannot avoid using cars to get to church does not slip off the agenda. If the city goes for automatic barriers which don't operate outside of pedestrian zone hours, it would be possible for people to get in by car. The question is would they fit barriers that would open automatically to let people out, rather than incarcerate them? I just hope it doesn't end up in litigation threats to wring concessions from the Council, as happened with Tabernacl down on the Hayes. The problem is that local government contains who are quite indifferent to history, traditon and respect for the belief and practices of others, who'd happily dismiss the concerns of others in a way that ends up being bullying - there's no other word for it. Let's just hope that putting the service half an hour later doesn't tip the delicate balance we've maintained over the past five years, with worshippers generally leaving the pedestrian zone just around the time the regulations come into force. The dialogue must start sooner rather than later.

Compare and contrast

This evening, in my role as Chaplain I attended an emergency general meeting of the members of the United Services Mess, which is facing a financial crisis that could lead to closure. The committee had to report that they were compelled to make their much valued Steward redundant, as a result of plummeting revenues, caused by poor attendance. In order to save the Mess - now in its hundredth year, many changes will have to be made in the way the place is run, subscriptions will have to increase, membership qualifications will have to be broadened - not least where women service personnel are concerned.

The committee has an ambition to do more with voluntary help from members, as happens in lots of service clubs. But for the Mess this represents a significant change in culture and ethos, plus it requires the diplomatic skills of those experienced in handling volunteers. This is where the inclusion of women, with their strong collaborative culture could be most beneficial. Not that the women do all the work, but that their powers of organisation and persuasion, which function differently from masculine models, be allowed to make a contribution that involved everyone in re-creating what is in many ways a strong community based around shared experience of service life.

The Mess building is a problem given that it has no lift, and a substantial number of ageing members. Equipping it for today's access requirements is a big financial challenge for a small private organisation. Restriction on vehicle access in the neighbourhood is also having an impact on the use of the place by both clientele and those servicing the events taking place there. It's the kind of issue that hardly figures in urban planning discussions dominated by the grandiose ambitons of the big economic players. Yet, places like the Mess are part of what gives the City its convivial characteristics for people across the generations. When the redevelopment work is finished, and if the hundreds of apartments are populated with the predicted mix of yuppies and grey panthers, they could well be a different kind of clientele interested in the Mess. But for the moment, only drastic measures will ensure survival. Otherwise the centenary dinner next January could well be the Mess's final act.

It's interesting the reflect upon the differences of fortune between the Church and the Mess, viewing both of them as 'small businesses' as understood in contemporary terms, especially as the voluntary enterprise of women selling tea and cakes to the public predominates in the economic health of St John's, whereas an all-male preserve selling mainly beer and occasional meals to a select clientèle strives and is now failing to compete with scores of places with the same kind of 'retail offer'. What the Mess must discover how to do better is to make the most of itself as a place where military history and culture is cherished, in an environment that brings something unique to the City's social scene.

It was good today to welcome for a return visit and organ concert, Keith Dale, the director of music at Holy Trinity Church Geneva. A hundred people came to the lunchtime recital at St John's. The numbers have built up to their former level very quickly following the six month interruption due to the re-decoration of the nave. All this is due to the energy invested in the 'Cardiff Organ Events' promotion of recitals in the city centre, spearheaded by our own indefatigable Organist and Curator Philip Thomas. Everyone comments favourably on how beautiful the church now looks. I take pride in telling everyone who comments that the £100,000 cost of the work was afforded due to funds raised by Tea Room volunteers over a seven year period.

Dressing for dinner

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In my role as Chaplain to Cardiff's United Services Mess, last night I attended the annual dinner, given in the Angel Hotel for around 250 mainly ex-service personnel, with a sprinkling of active servicemen among the invited guests. Prince Andrew was chief guest last year and protocol obliged invites and attendance by several women, including the Mayor and the Chief Constable. This year reverted to the default position - men only. Many are open to the change, but there's no real concensus for the need to change as yet. So the Mess is still a gentleman's club.

The annual dinner is a stylish formal black-tie affair, medals are worn. It's always jolly and exuberant, always well mannered. The serving staff are superbly organised and strive make the whole affair the success it deserves to be, as a commemorative banquet for those fallen and continuing to fall in armed conflict. It's been notable how the score of young people waiting on table have changed over the past five years I have attended. Fewer now have black skins, many more each year have Eastern European accents, something that draws comment from diners. My role is to say grace, and to speak a commemorative sentence in deep darkness before the toast in homage to Fallen is offered. I know it off by heart now, and am not nearly as nervous about it as I was the first time I did it, four years ago, when I fluffed my lines terribly. Bless 'em all, I wasn't teased too much about that subsequently.

The evening finishes with many diners returning to the Mess, weaving their way through the hordes of drunken revellers on St Mary Street, to top up their own post prandial alcohol levels before heading home. Last year, I missed out on this because I was still far from getting my blood pressure stable. This year I had to miss out on account of today's big wedding. So I was home and in bed by a quarter after midnight, well fed, and quite tired, having done a full day's work before dressing for dinner.

HMS Cardiff's bell welcomed home

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A few weeks ago, I was contacted by Elizabeth Anderson-Reed, receptionist at City Hall, who also happens to be one of Llandaff Cathedral's Church Wardens. The ship's bell of HMS Cardiff had turned up following de-commissioning at City Hall. Nobody was sure what to do with it and where to install it for safe keeping. Elizabeth was asked if the Cathedral might take it. "But the Cathedral already has the bell of HMS Llandaff." she said; "So why not ask St John's, the Parish Church of Cardiff, if they'd like to have it." "OK" said the keeper of City Hall's historical artifacts. Hence the phone call. An offer impossible to refuse, especially as St John's is a place many veterans' organisations regard as special to them. We have a couple of dozen voluntary organisation flags laid up in the north aisle. The bell of a ship bearning the City's name, laid up in this war memorial chapel would be an added distinction, and honour.

So, last Friday, I collected the bell from City Hall, and this morning it was installed by a team of no fewer than three council workmen, up above the door in the north aisle, just below one of the ranks of flags. One man to drill the holes, one to manage the tools and one to hold the ladder. Twenty minutes, no hassles, all done safely with huge six inch long screws and plugs, enough to take the bell and mounting, weighing around twenty pounds. I went straight over to the Market after the men had left, to buy a locking cable, such as you'd use to secure your bike, to wind around the neck of the bell and attach to its mounting, in case any thief had mean ambitions.

The Sunday after next Cardiff's United Services Mess will hold its annual service at St John's, a perfect occasion on which to conduct the formalities of a bell handover. The Mess chairman Tony Lewis (RN retired) was delighted with the news and has organised for Cardiff's last ship's captain, Mike Beardall, to make the hand-over in person. Members of HMS Cardiff Association and HMS Cambria are also invited to swell the numbers on this special occasion.

Inscribed on the exterior of the bell is HMS Cardiff, 1979 (when she was commissioned). Around the interior of the rim are inscribed the names of children baptized on board ship. Naval custom is for the ship's bell to be used, upturned and filled with water, as a baptismal font. We can only be proud to have custody of such an unusual sacred object. It's so much more meaningful than putting it in a museum.