Neil Pickford finds work in the cellar of Christianity is still very fulfilling
Many people have wondered what it is that a virger actually is, or does – not least members of the congregation at Beverley Minster - so I thought I'd give you a quick insight into my life.
Firstly, where do I fit in the cosmic scale of things? Well, shining out at the top with a wondrous light is, of course, the great God Almighty, plus Jesus and all the saints.
As a matter of interest, the Catholic church likes to grade the saints, with the best being closest to God's ear and they reckon that St John of Beverley is one of the top guys – not Premiership perhaps, but definitely Championship.
Then we have their radiant leaders on earth – in the Anglican church today it's the Queen, then the Archbishops of Canterbury and York standing side-by-side (although, if viewed from the side then Canterbury is just in front).
Glowing slightly less strongly are diocesan bishops, then suffragen ones, archdeacons, vicars and so forth.
Down in the cellar, using a flashlight, is the head virger and over there, chewing on the stub of an old candle in the corner, is the assistant virger, yours truly.
And what do I do with my time, apart from ruthlessly persecuting innocent spiders with my trusty vacuum cleaner and hitting church mice with my metal virge?
Well, last Friday night I didn't see much of my family.because I was moving things – lots of things.
We'd had the Russell Watson concert earlier in the evening, which involved putting out a hundred or so extra chairs to normal.
These then had to be removed, along with all the other 400 chairs in the nave because, the very next day, we had the Beverley Christmas Food and Drink Festival to accommodate – and they wanted tables, not chairs so, once our little group of volunteers had picked up all the discarded programmes, plastic cups and bottles, false teeth, artificial hips, gloves and whathaveyou then John and I flexed our muscles and got to work.
We've done this many times before so, with some classic rock music blasting from our sound system we started to stack and then transport the chairs off to an out-of-the-way spot where they'd be safe for a while. Then we moved tables, built stands and laid down a network of extension leads, in such a way that no one would trip over them afterwards.
We finished at silly o'clock and had to be back in the Minster for 8am to greet the first exhibitors as they piled up with their displays.
And than, after a day of noise, fun and frivolity, John and I had the joyous task of restoring the church for our normal Sunday services: decorating the altars, putting the cups, service sheets and collecting bowls in place and generally tidying up all 30,000 square feet of building.
That took us to not-quite-so-silly o'clock, which was just as well as I was on duty at 7am yesterday, looking after preachers, vicars, congregation and visitors alike – and smiling all the time..
I must admit, not every weekend is like that, but it's not unique either.
For example, this week we turn all the seats round for the traditional County Choir concert – which takes place on a huge pile of raised staging in the west end. Yes, it would be easier if the 100-odd singers and orchestra could be housed at the normal east end of the church but we've got some ugly and highly irritating choir stalls in the way and, until someone gives us a few thousand pounds to put wheels under them, we're stuck with turning the church round instead. And turning it back immediately afterwards too. Whoopee!
And yet, being a virger is still the most satisfying job I've ever had. Weird, eh?Neil Pickford: by day a mild-mannered virger: by night…he walks the streets and tries to make sense of it all.
You can read more of Neil's various meanderings at his website • ThePickfordPapers
