St George for Hanworth, and Hanworth for the Lord

St George for Hanworth, and Hanworth for the Lord

As April 23rd is St. George’s day, it is also the day we remember and celebrate everything related to George e.g. St. George hospital Tooting, all the people we know and have known called George , and all the churches who have St. George as their patron saint.

This year we were invited, via Father Martin of St. Luke’s church, Kingston, to the Patronal service of St. George, Hanworth. After discussion, we decided that we would like to attend the St. George Patronal service and we must admit that one of the main reasons was my son wanted to attend the service due to being named, “George”.

There has been a church at Hanworth since the 14th century, although it has been through many re-buildings, you can still feel the prayer that has soaked into the earth of the church yard and hear the prayers soaking into the fabric of the church – all contributing to making it a sacred place. The first impressions of the church were that although a lot of the church was refitted in the 19th century, it did not feel Victorian and that it felt small for an outer London church. The latter can be partially reconciled by the fact that it Hanworth comes from the Saxon “Hane Worde” meaning small village.

However, this ‘sacredness’ is not just a piece of history, St. George’s continues to be a place of prayer and worship, as we were to find out in our St. George’s day pilgrimage.

Unlike our normal Sunday pilgrimages to church, we set off early to Hanworth and arrived early. This was my fault, as I believed it would take 45 minutes to get there from Kingston, even though it only takes me 25 minutes to get to Hanworth in the morning on the way to work. Not a problem though, as we were able to stop for petrol, have a brief walk and not have the usual panic when going somewhere new of not knowing where to park. We entered the church about 19.00 and we were immediately made welcome by Fr Paul. He showed George, where to go to get changed into his cassock and introduced him to some of the other servers and then found a cassock for Rebecca (my daughter) and introduced her to the quire, with whom she remained for the rest of the service.

The service started with a fanfare and Fr. Paul welcomed us, in the now full church, and introduced us to “Father of Fathers, the Bishop of Pontefract” who was our celebrant and preacher. Later Fr Martin told me his other name was Bishop Tony, which is a lot easier to say. – but I still quite like “Father of Fathers” as a phrase. Bishop Tony’s sermon was on how we all are called to be saints and to live the Gospel. The Service of the Word over, Bishop Tony then took over the duties of celebrant. Although we may say ‘holy mysteries’, his calling on the Holy Spirit to bless the water, wine and bread was truly mystical and mysterious. I did find it strange, but fitting to the surroundings and occasion, that instead of ringing a bell when elevating the host, the trumpet played a short fanfare.

After the dismissal, at which we felt truly urged to go forth as saints, Fr Paul reminded us that God wishes us not only to serve, but to be joyful and gave instructions on how he wished us to sing the next three songs on the service sheets. The songs were “God save the Queen”, all three verses, which to my shame George and Rebecca knew but I did not, “Jerusalem” and “Land of Hope and Glory”. The words of Jerusalem had been slightly modified to include the words, “St. George for Hanworth and Hanworth for the Lord”, which could be a most appropriate motto for the parish. But I do hope that the ‘dark satanic mills” did not feel like a dig at Fr. Tony and his residence in Yorkshire. I can still remember the instruction on how we were to sing “Land of Hope and Glory”, on the fourth chorus we, the congregation, were to lift up our flags and wave them ‘frantically’ and at the end we were requested to wave them with ‘bizarre’. All duly followed his instructions.

The service complete, we were welcomed to join in some food, wine and chat. Although we left at 21.30, I can quite imagine that the party would continue for at least another couple of hours.

As a parent, I have learnt to ask my offspring questions about their days, and our pilgrimage was no exception:

“George, what did you like about the service”

“The flag bit at the end and the food”

“Rebecca, what did you like about the service”

“All of it”.

There are a couple of other comments that made me laugh, but one that I quite like from Rebecca when talking about the Bishop and Fr Paul. She was most adamant that the person who greeted us into the church wasn’t Fr. Paul but was St. Paul.