The Day We Saved the Church

Jane and I had played two games of Scrabble. We had won one game each and so had to play a decider. We sipped our Limoncello and played on. Jane won the third as expected and on finding that it was almost eleven o’clock we decided to head for bed. About ten minutes later a siren could be heard. We met in the hallway.

“Is that the church’s burglar alarm?”

“Not sure, shall we check?”

Jane collected her cordless landline and we headed across the road. 

I saw a flashing in the window and assumed it was the flashing of the alarm box. 

As I got closer and had a look through the window I realised that the sanctuary lamp, normally supported by three chains, had slipped one and the lamp was on fire and dripping burning oil onto a patch of burning carpet. A few metres away from the fire was a coffin containing the earthly remains of the gentleman who was to be buried the next day.

I relayed this information to Jane. She phoned the parish priest and a few minutes later Father had arrived. Father looked inside and noting the black smoke asked Jane to call the fire brigade. We waited for the short time till the truck arrived and I ran down the drive to flag them down and direct them up. 

The firefighters had a suction unit that quickly sucked up the toxic smoke and with directions from Father and a brief spurt of the water hose, put out the fire.

Father was now presented with a dilemma. He could not leave the church unlocked all night, but if it was not aired out it would not be safe to hold the funeral the next day. Jane and I looked at each other and offered to stay with the church and air it out. Father returned home and we went and opened all the possible doors and windows and discovered that the pews were covered in greasy smoke. 

Jane went home and changed and then brought back cloths and a packet of biscuits. We alternated wiping down every surface, spending time with the Lord, and sitting on the steps munching biscuits and talking quietly till an early-praying parishioner arrived at around six and we went home to bed. 

Being a bad sleeper and a reasonable singer I snuck over for the Requiem Mass and was able to enjoy Father’s mention of the almost accidental cremation.