"Parish" Profiles: St. Berres', Llanferres

Note:  This will be part one of a multi-part series Lara and I will be writing to share a bit about the particular churches in which we work.  My five churches are the former parishes of Llanferres, Cilcain, Gwernaffield, Rhydymwyn, and Nannerch, now part of the parish of the Mold Mission Area in the Wrexham Archdeconry of the Diocese of St. Asaph.  This first entry covers the church right outside our front door: St. Berres', Llanferres.

St. Berres' (Brice/Britius) was the fourth Bishop of Tours, serving after the much more famous St. Martin (whose Cathedral in Leicester we visited last Saturday for a friend's ordination!)  As holy and pious as St. Martin was, St. Berres was, well, not.  At least not initially.

Rumored (at least in these parts) to have been from Wales (also allegedly from around these parts), Berres was a follower of St. Martin, capable and talented, and then succeeded him as Bishop.  When a nun there had a baby, folks thought it was Berres'.  To prove that it wasn't, he carried hot coals in his cloak to the grave of St. Martin, and upon arrival showed that the cloak was unsinged.  The villagers remained unconvinced, and Berres was run out of town, sent to Rome to do penance.  Whether the child was his or not (and the miracle would indicate it wasn't), the villagers' disbelief didn't paint a particularly flattering picture of the virtues of Berres. He returned from Rome years later a changed man.

The church and village have been under his patronage for quite some time, with the village church appearing in the taxation of 1291, which places its foundation to sometime between 1274 and 1291.  It's been here long enough that the village's name (Llanferres, or "Place of St. Berres) comes from the parish church.  

It's pretty easy to look at the church and know that it wasn't built in 1280, so how old is it?

The church is a bit unusual, having been built in the late 17th century, not a particularly halcyon time for ecclesiastical architecture.  Though there have been some renovations done to the building, there are still significant portions that date back to the very early days of this particular building, or even pre-date it.

Before we get there, we have to approach the church.  St. Berres' is unique amongst my patch in that is has a lantern on the bell tower instead of a spire.  The tower hosts one bell which is rung regularly before the saying of the daily office in the church, as the rubrics of the prayer book dictate.

Come In, We're Open!

Upon entrance there are a few things of particular interest in the back.  One of the old box pews has been preserved, complete with Brass Plates.  Additionally, near the door are the font and the old parish safe.  The font was given by GT & RL (I'll look up the parish history to remember exactly who this is, but if I remember correctly it's actually a person of some significance.)  You'll see inscribed upon it the date 1684. For reference, the Merry Monarch, His Majesty Charles II, was King at that time.   There's also a portion of the corner stone laid by Fr. John Davies, STD (Doctor of Divinity), in 1650, which took place during the dark days of the interregnum following the martyrdom of S. Charles I, King and Martyr.  The "safe" is hewn from a single oak trunk.  Though we don't keep things in it anymore, it's likely still about as secure as one can make a piece of wood!

Safe: The Old Fashioned Way.

Also unique to St. Berres' amongst the Bro Famau Group is that it has a Lady Chapel.  The legend is that the chapel was put in when there were a great number of Polish miners working in the mines nearby, but the nearest Roman church was in Mold, several hours' walk.  To welcome the Polish workers and to get them to join the church, the church engaged in an act of hospitality that we would all do well to remember in these contentious times: they built a Lady Chapel and welcomed the Polish miners into their community.  The Lady Chapel also contains some of our oldest relics, including the grave slab for Fr. John Meredith, who, though he died in 1660, did live to see the restoration of the monarchy and the return of good, godly religion to the land. It's worth noting that Fr. Meredith was an armigerous cleric, though he was apparently not from a titled family.  There are additional photos of the grave slabs, chapel, and statues of Our Lady in the album shared at the bottom of the page.


Finally we come to the rood screen, quire, chancel, and altar.  And what a glorious piece of work it is!!!



What we see here is a fantastically British parish church that has had little tampering done in the intervening centuries.  The eagle lectern is spectacular, and it is paired with a pulpit on the north end of the church that is adorned with beautiful wood carvings of Sts. Peter and Paul and St. Berres. Above it as one steps in is a crucifix, a constant reminder that one climbs into the pulpit to preach Christ and him crucified.

Behind the pulpit sits the rood screen.  Rood is an older term that simply means "cross," and the rood screen is so called because it is the screen and beam that carry upon them a cross.  This somewhat unusual feature would once have been much more common, and it has the benefit of reflecting a remarkably coherent theology of space.  The font (which we have already seen) stands right at the door, as it is the means by which one enters the church, that is, through baptism.  In the nave where the pews are, we sit to hear God's Word proclaimed, to pray, and to confess before God our sins and faults.  When the time comes for communion, we are able to approach the presence of Christ in the consecrated host only by passing through the rood screen, for it is only by us taking up our cross and sharing in Christ's crucifixion that we find our life in Him.  The rood screen then serves as a reminder that we must die constantly to sin.  Above even that, as we approach the quire and chancel, we are implored to "Worship the Lord in the Beauty of Holiness;" an easy thing to do in this space, indeed! Inside the rood screen is the quire, in which sits the choir or the clergy-in-choir.  These clerks (lay and ordained) are commissioned by the body of Christ to go in on behalf of all the faithful and offer sacrifice, prayers, worship, and praise.

Continuing east, one encounters the altar rail at which we kneel to receive the body and blood of our Lord.  We receive kneeling to remind ourselves that we are in the presence of the King of Kings and of overwhelming holiness.  While kneeling may seem to be a bit much to some, it is a far tamer reaction than many have as they encounter Christ and fling themselves down before him.

Finally, there is the altar, up against the reredos carved beautifully with scenes from the life of St. Mary and Christ: Annunciation, Nativity, and Epiphany.  The altar's placement means that the clergy celebrate ad orientem, that is, facing east.  This isn't done because we are "turning our back on the congregation," nor is it done for the purpose of exclusion.  Rather, it's done for the purpose of inclusion.  Instead of the priest performing the Eucharist for the people, the priest stands together with God's people, offering on their behalf a sacrifice to the Lord.  Together we stand facing east towards God, together we are covered by the sacrifice of Christ, represented before us and on our behalf, together as one people.  

It's worth pointing out that the cross is replaced on Sundays with a beautiful brass cross that is not left out during the week.

Sorry about the glare on this one.  It detracts a bit, but it's hard to get a good photo of the panels that doesn't have glare.

Above the Altar is a window of the Ascension of Christ, complete with local flora under his feet. 



The ceiling in the quire and chancel is also remarkably done, with alternating monograms of Christ and St. Berres, along with some scriptural verses. 



There is much and more that could be said about St. Berres', but what must be said is what an honor it is to serve this church (and the others in the group like it.)

St. Berres' is a church with a distinguished history; one of its rectors went on to become a Warden at Ruthin, head of Ruthin School (one of the oldest public schools in the UK), and one of the key translators for the first Welsh Bible.  Others have also done incredible work in this place, overseeing hundreds of years of mission and service to the community, of marriages, burials, and baptisms.  When praying in this place one can't help but feel the presence of those who have soaked these walls with prayers, and those who sanctified this ground before this building was even built.  That weight of history is a powerful reminder of our own mortality and of the ephemerality of our own ministry.  Nevertheless, as anonymous as ministry in these places may seem, the work done here is no less valuable than that done in the greatest cathedrals in the realm.  Salvation brought to one is the same whether it happens in St. Paul's London or St. Berres', Llanferres.  And in any case, the plaudits of men are not our remit.  Like those whose names are on the list, I'm acutely aware that what I do with the good people of Llanferres will be of little interest to anyone a hundred years down the road, and that our records will sit in the diocesan storage until they become too brittle to be read again.  Nevertheless, we have faith that the God who has sustained this place through wars, pestilence, glory, and anonymity, will continue to be faithful, and I hope that my ministry here will help to ensure that in another 200 years someone's eyes will fall over my name on this list much as mine falls over that of Robert Tamberlin: unaware of his accomplishments, but grateful that he enabled the continual worship of God and that he has helped to hand down such a beautiful place, well-tuned to help us sing God's glory.  After all, as R.S. Thomas' wrote in The Country Clergy:   

They left no books,

Memorial to their lonely thought

In grey parishes; rather they wrote

On men’s hearts and in the minds

Of young children sublime words

Too soon forgotten. God in his time

Or out of time will correct this.

If you'd like to see some additional photos of the Church (both inside and out), please feel free to check out additional photos HERE!  

PS: Here's a bonus picture of Charley playing on the Plague Pit.  In this general area of the churchyard, there are buried (it is believed) in the neighborhood of 2-400 people who died as a result of the black death here in the village.