Last Saturday I was at Chetton village hall for a concert by an Irish duo who go by the name of "Hooded Crow". The hall was full, the music good, the company even better. This wasn't a church service, I have no idea how many of the people who came would consider themselves to be Christian or even religious, but that does not keep God out. By a coincidence, the priest and poet/performer, Malcolm Guite, wrote a short piece in the Church Times along this theme. It was written after a colleague encouraged him to remember St Francis at one of his performances; the Rev Guite is a Franciscan and the poem is called "St Francis drops in on My Gig".
I guess you must have slipped in at the back
I’m lifting my guitar out of its case
But seeing you I nearly put it back!
You smile and say that it’s your local too,
You know the ins and outs of inns like this,
The people here have hidden wounds like you,
And you have bidden them to hidden bliss.
‘Francis I’ve only straggled after you,
I’ve never really caught your melody,
The joy you bring when every note rings true…’
But you just laugh and say ‘play one for me!’
This one’s for you then, on the road once more,
The first, the last, the hard-core troubadour.