Recently, I visited St Bartholomew’s in Redmarley for morning communion and noticed that the offering was taken up very early in the service, in fact during the first hymn. The surprise of having to reach into my pocket so early in the service triggered my mind to go on one of its mischievous journeys.
It wondered whether, in times past, alert church wardens had noticed a tendency amongst villagers to slip out of the service before the sermon and thus before the offering was taken? If this were to have been the case, although attendees would have been deprived of the benefits of the sermon, the Vicar of yesteryear would himself, have endured a problem of cash-flow.
When I told a friend of my observation, his own view was that church wardens of the time might have counted the collection immediately and notified the speaker of its contents. In this way the sermon could have been tailored to meet the signals being sent by the congregation. Indeed, my friend seems to remember a pre-decimalisation visit to Redmarley, and is convinced that the Vicar at the time once responded to the congregations generosity by preaching a 17/6p sermon as opposed to his normal 10/- one.
With these comments fresh in mind; later that day I visited St John’s the Evangelist in Pauntley for the lovely service of evening prayers. Whilst there, I noticed that the offering was not taken until the very end of the service and wondered, was this also evidence of a parochial practice of the past? In this case, it appeared that the canny folk of Pauntley were keen on hearing the Vicar make his pitch, before knowing what the takings were going to be.
Nowadays, in most of our churches there is not much of a connection between the sermon and the offering, although I do sometimes think there ought to be. Notwithstanding that, there are hundreds of vibrant churches whose congregations give £millions to charities, and are also generous in maintaining the Parish Church for the enjoyment of us all.
Talking about the link between the offering and the sermon however, reminds me of the tale of the little boy whose father gave him a £1 to put on the collection plate, but who let the plate go by and hung on to the coin.
The speaker that day was a visiting Canon, and at the end of the service the little boy shook hands with the speaker and gave him the coin. “That’s very kind of you,” said the surprised Canon, “but why are you doing this?” “Well,” said the boy, “I think you must need it, because my Dad says you’re the poorest preacher he’s ever heard.”
View from the Pew 