Pages turning with sadness and hope

Attentive readers of these pages may be aware of my Welsh origins. I see this as a special gift from God to me, it doesn't make me better of worse than anyone of any other origin, but it does make me different, and the history, culture, language and people of the little nation from which I come has shaped my personality and my way of looking at the world, for the better and for the worse.

Over these past few weeks I have been watching some videos produced by a friend in North Wales. 

The first is a history of revivals in Wales, telling the story of the arrival of the gospel in the area and of the ministry and influence of the Celtic saints that gave the land so many of its place names, but focussing especially on the great numbers who were won to the Christian faith in the 18th, 19th and 20th centuries, and the transformation of so many communities that followed.

The second was a series of two programmes from Welsh TV, "Dechrau canu, dechrau canmol", the equivalent of "Songs of Praise" that focused on the life and ministry of William Williams Pantycelyn, probably Wales' most famous hymn writer and author of the words usually sung to Cwm Rhondda.

The third was a programme of Dechrau Canu focusing on the life of one "Nantlais", pastor, preacher and poet, who was minister of a very well-known church in South Wales, Bethany Ammanford, and who was converted in the 1904 revival. 

I have never been to Ammanford, though I once had to change buses there at a stop on the very aptly named Heol Y Gwynt (Wind Street), but I knew of this church since my student days because of the large number of young people who had grown up in the church. I feel like I have always been meeting or hearing of people who belonged to Bethany Ammanford.

The last was a video of the decommissioning service of Bethany Ammanford. The church was founded in 1881 and closed just a few weeks ago.

It's made me think about lots of different, but related things.

Firstly, the way in which the gospel spread in new towns and villages all over Wales (and beyond, of course). As the Industrial Revolution changed the landscape of Britain, so God moved to reach new communities bringing life, hope and joy in Jesus Christ. I grew up surrounded by buildings that testified to so many groups that met in Jesus name. On my half-hour walk to school as a child I don't think I passed one tree, but I must have walked past between six and ten non-conformist churches of various denominations and of both Welsh and English language. I didn't walk past any Anglican churches, but there were two within a reasonable detour of my route.

Then the amazing privilege and benefits that the culture of the non-conformist churches brought to the varied communities of Wales. In many places life literally revolved around the churches and their ministries. There was little else available, but little else was needed. I know that this isn't just true of Wales, but various parts of England, especially mining or industrial areas, would also experience the influence of non-conformist churches in reaching the working people of different new communities. Some of Wales' most prized novels record the way this worked out in people's lives and the good it brought to them.

Again, as we mark now well over a century since the last nation-wide revival, we see a way of life that has changed, too. So much is different. People are more mobile than before. Industry has declined. The valleys that were green are green once more. There's less work, but more money. Life is harder in some ways and easier in others. Society has changed dramatically.

Old non-conformist churches are closing, some with an illustrious heritage, others less well known. The denominations founded in time of revival are forecast to disappear within the next 25 to 30 years. A culture has died. The fire has gone out. The ashes are goring cold.

At the same time new churches have been started, churches with a different style and culture, better fitted, perhaps, to reach our communities nowadays, with different songs, sometimes a different language, but with the same gospel message and the same call to repentance, to faith and to a life of holiness. There are wonderful churches in Ammanford, but Bethany has closed.

It's impossible to watch these videos without being profoundly moved by a sense of what has gone. But this was not the gospel. This was a particular expression of the culture of the gospel, suited to a particular time, place, people and history. Now it's time to watch what God will do in the coming years to reach new people with the same message of hope in Jesus Christ.