04 August 2008
This ‘living history’ is something to treasure

CANON DAVID SHARP - CHURCH OF ENGLAND VIEWPOINT

Last week a friend was telling me of his recent visit to London to see the exhibition of church plate at Goldsmiths' Hall.

As I thumbed through the lavish catalogue, two of the premier pieces illustrated brought memories flooding back to me. They were the magnificent l6 century Thistle and Gleane Cups on loan from St Peter Mancroft Church in Norwich, two of the finest examples of parish church plate outside London.

My memory went back to the dim light of a bank vault in London Street in late 1975 soon after I had been appointed vicar of Mancroft. I was determined to see the priceless historic church plate I was now custodian of, which my predecessor, Bill Westwood, (later Bishop of Peterborough), had consigned to the bank after a security scare, and to use it at the Christmas services. It was quite some effort, as some half-dozen pieces were screwed down into purpose-built lined oak boxes. I can remember now the thrill as each piece saw the light again.

We used them that Christmas, and at Easter, but the effort, and the security risk were too great. I determined that we were going to put these treasures permanently on secure display in the church so that they could be seen by all and used occasionally. This we achieved in 1982 through a magnificent gift in memory of Marjorie and Raymond King, and they are there in the treasury to this day.

The pre-Reformation Mancroft plate was equally magnificent and is fully described in the Inventories at the British Museum, but none of it survived. As things settled down after the Reformation, individual citizens donated items of their domestic silver for use at Holy Communion. The Thistle Cup, so-called from its shape, is the earliest piece of post-Reformation plate in the city, and I ensured it was used by new curates celebrating their first communion. What a link with history!

The Gleane Cup, 1565, of German craftsmanhip, given in 1633 by Sir Peter Gleane, Mayor of Norwich, is world-famous as a piece of Elizabethan plate, elaborate and richly embossed with scenes of Abigail's visit to King David with her train of camels.

A Dutch octagonal plate of the mid 17th century marks the Flemish connection, along with the tapestry of the Resurrection by Flemish weavers, just as the grave slabs of Norwich silver and gold-smiths pave the aisles.

Should churches keep such treasures? Well, Church of England churches, (more than 600 of them in Norfolk being listed buildings), and their contents, are a living history of our communities. Their loss would be an incalculable blow to our corporate memory of who we are and where we have come from. Our churches and their historic contents are probably better preserved and presented now than at any time in their history, and much of the cost of this falls on our faithful congregations, with some help from English Heritage and conservation charities.

I have always argued that church contents should be seen in the churches to which they relate, if there is adequate security, rather than be consigned to museums. If some of the past gifts to the church from generous people now have ridiculously inflated values that is largely because so few of them ever come on the market. Jesus refused to condemn the woman who anointed him with expensive ointment, when people grumbled that it could have been sold for the poor. But he did say that the poor are always with us, and the relief of need is high on the churches' agenda today. So it is "both" "and", not "either" "or".

All this reminds me of Mancroft's greatest treasure, the 1190 AD manuscript of St Paul's Epistles, illuminated with 26 initial letter 'P's, full of medieval life and interest.

In 1975, as I arrived, the church had decided to sell this to Lambeth Palace Library for £10,000, but the Chancellor would not allow it until the new vicar's views were known. I pleaded to be allowed six months to get into the job, and meanwhile asked archivist Ian Dunn to research the manuscript.

Canon Folland, the Bishop's Book Adviser, begged me not to let it go, saying it was the most important book in Norfolk, and should be seen by people locally. Anyway as a canny Yorkshireman, I soon found out that at £10,000 we were giving it away, albeit to a safe home. The Church Council then reversed its decision, and the manuscript was put on display in the new treasury (though for conservation reasons it has more recently been replaced by a remarkable replica and is cared for in the County Archive).

In 1995, I was flown to Rome first-class on Alitalia, with the Epistles chained to my wrist, by the Italian Government, who wanted them in their "I Normanni" exhibition. My heart sank because on that flight we had the worst turbulence I have ever experienced, and I thought the plane might go down. It was no comfort that some people back home would probably prefer the insurance money to the Epistles and a new vicar to boot!

The Epistles and I thankfully survived.