The Chapel Of Saint David

And Saint Nicholas,

Llanelli, South Wales.

An encounter with the ancient faith

of Orthodox Christianity.

Welcome. Croeso.

Our little chapel is a simple wooden building,

set amidst flowers and herb bushes,

rich with colours and scents.

As you cross our garden

you are calmed by the sound of a fountain

splashing under a miniature willow tree,

the sound of chickens in their coop,

the sound of bees in the flowers,

or even by the sound of Welsh rain.

As you enter the chapel, your senses are flooded

with the smell of incense that has saturated the woodwork,

the honey scent of beeswax candles,

the scent of bay leaves and rosemary,

the colours of the blue and gold paintwork,

offering a glimpse of a heavenly world,

the sunlight slanting in through the south facing windows,

the tangible feeling of a place of prayer,

a place where you may rest for a while.

Stand quietly. Feel at home. This is a homely place,

where our God comes down to us.

Sit on the bench. Don’t worry if it squeaks.

Lay aside all the cares of this life.

Let go.

Let our time stop. Enter into God’s time.

Later,

people begin to arrive.

It is time for the lighting of the lamps.

Pools of flickering light draw your eyes to the icons,

pictures painted in an ancient style

showing Christ, His Mother and the Saints.

You may wish to light a candle.

Now it is time for worship.

“It is time for the Lord to act.”

Let me tell you about a Sunday morning in our chapel.

I am always in a hurry, never ready on time.

I prepare the lamps,

bring hot water and the communion loaf,

check that there is enough wine.

I may go early to collect an elderly member of our community.

I should listen to my own words

about letting go and finding peace.

Now I can begin my prayers,

making the sign of the cross,

bowing as I say the ancient words:

“Holy God, Holy Strong, Holy Immortal, have mercy upon us.”

Slowly I put on my vestments,

with prayers as I fasten each part.

The round Communion loaf

was baked by one of the parishioners,

offered with love to God.

This bread and the wine have to be prepared for the service.

As I cut the loaf and pour the wine, I pray,

remembering the angels, the saints,

my bishop, my spiritual father, my community

and all those who are waiting to join the Church.

There are prayers for the living and the departed,

for we are all one in Christ,

and not even death can separate us from His love

or from the Church.

A handful of friends begin to arrive,

from across South West Wales.

Others live more locally.

Some people come for the first time,

others have been here often.

We never know how many will come.

Someone wants me to hear their confession,

so everyone else waits quietly in the house.

Then they crowd in once more.

The lamps are lit, the candles are burning,

incense fills the air.

It is going to be hot, so we open the windows and the door.

We are ready to start the service but more people arrive.

A friend who nurses her mother,

a family whose young children

are bubbling and skipping as they enter.

People move freely in and out of the chapel

using the space of the garden and our house

for God is everywhere present and fills all things.

The service is about to begin.

We call this the Divine Liturgy,

remembering the worship of the angels

round the throne of God,

remembering worship in the Old Testament

and in the Book of Revelation.

This is how the Church worshipped in the early centuries.

I take up the incense burner, swinging it gently,

offering incense before the altar,

as the Hebrew people did 3,000 years ago,

as Christians have done for 2,000 years,

offering incense before each one of the Holy Icons,

the images of Christ, His Mother and the Saints,

offering incense to each person,

each one created in the image of God,

offering a blessing, a purification.

I lift the Gospel Book from the altar,

holding it up in both hands,

and make the sign of the Cross with it.

“Blessed is the Kingdom,

of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

Together we set out on a spiritual journey.

Several hours later

we have reached the end of our Sunday journey.

Standing in the heavenly places with the Angels,

we have received the body and blood of Christ.

We have seen the true light,

we have found the true faith

worshipping the undivided Trinity.

Now people spill out of the crowded little chapel,

into our kitchen to share a meal.

We never know what anyone will bring to eat

and there is always more than enough for everyone,

specialities from Greece or Russia, Cyprus or Iraq,

traditional British food and exotic foreign dishes.

There is plenty here

for regular visitors and new-comers alike.

Someone once called us Orthodox Christians

“Those people who are always eating after church.”

And it’s true.