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CLOAKED IN IVY

In a small village in south Wales, on the ancient site of three holy wells, sits St Lawrence's church. Its medieval stone structure, partially hidden in a wooded valley, is being slowly reclaimed by nature.

Inside, it's cold and dank. The pews are covered in mould and water drips on the floor. A spider's web, stretched across a wooden crucifix and a brass candelabra, shimmers in a chink of sunlight.

"It first came to my attention in 2019," says Rachel Morley, the director of Friends of Friendless Churches, a charity which rescues and repairs redundant churches in England and Wales. "The church was still in use even though it was cloaked in ivy and the slates were flying off the roof."

A condition survey was carried out. Wall paintings, dating from the 15th century, were found beneath the plastered walls but it would cost 拢600,000  to restore the building - money the small charity did not have. 

For four years, Rachel applied for grants - and finally received one from the National Heritage Memorial Fund this year.

"This building has been here since at least the 13th century. It's been in this state for a decade or so. That's a blip in its lifetime," says Rachel, smiling.  "We're doing it for people in the future"

BRING IN THE BULLDOZERS

But for some, these buildings are a reminder of a bygone era, no longer fit for purpose.

"The amount of energy and money that a lot of churches spend on just keeping the roof on is astonishing," says religious commentator Niall Gooch. It's a matter close to home: his father is a Church of England vicar.

Despite his religious background, Niall believes that sometimes demolishing abandoned churches makes sense, even though it's "taboo for a lot of people".

"There's much in this country that's old and attractive but you can't keep it all," he explains. "It restricts more development of housing and contributes to a sense of Britain as a theme park of olden days, rather than thinking about what's best for people now."

People should be willing, he says, to "bite the bullet" and question whether a building that was built 900 years ago is "the best place for Christians to worship in 2023".

Andrew Rumsey disagrees. He鈥檚 the Bishop of Ramsbury, also in charge of church and cathedral buildings for the Church of England. 

To him, churches are "storehouses of local memory鈥� that tell us about our past. Local government and social welfare, he points out, grew out of the parish church.

LET THE COMMUNITY IN

Churches were built as community spaces, and the Herefordshire village that is home to St Leonard's has ensured that, in their case, it stays that way.

"The initial impetus came from worshippers and people on the church side," says John Pitts, who chairs the community shop's board of directors. 

"A handful of people weren't comfortable with it,"  he says. "One person said they'd never come back into the building again, but I don't think they ever came in anyway."

Building the village's only shop into the church space meant a full scale, sustainable restoration of the building. The old stone structure was suited for a green heating system because the stonework holds the heat. "This used to be a cold, uncomfortable place to worship," says John.

"People can come in and buy their eggs and milk. Then they can pray if they want and explore their faith," says Reverend Matthew Burns, the parish vicar. 

"Its helped keep the community together," he adds.

The community that built around the church building also helped shop volunteer, Audrey Bott, 90, when her husband died. "Quite frankly, I didn鈥檛 want to live any longer," she recollects. Her friend urged her to come back to the shop.

"I did and I鈥檓 still here today," Audrey smiles. "It saved my life."

Partial conversions like these don't bother Andrew Rumsey, Bishop of Ramsbury. "If you go back to medieval times, the local church was a sort of pub for the local community, so it's not the first time we've done this sort of thing," he says.

Rumsey cites Host Cafe - a similar pitstop inside a consecrated church in London - as another example. "I was having my flat white under a huge wooden crucifix, next to this urn of holy water - it was fabulous," he recalls.

MODERN MAKEOVERS

There are instances where church buildings have been given a modern makeover.

"It makes me slightly uncomfortable," says Niall Gooch. "It's a stark reminder that we've got a lot of work to do to get people back into churches."

Andrea Rasca, who runs the food market chain, Mercato Metropolitano, opened his newest site inside St Marks - a deconsecrated Grade I-listed church.

Its impressive Romanesque exterior is not the only eye-catching thing about Mercato Mayfair in central London. The building, which underwent a 拢5m revamp after it was deconsecrated, retains its original features with tombs and religious art preserved among the food stalls. 

But does it ever feel strange, serving food and alcohol on altars? 

"Not at all," grins Andrea. "I used to be an altar boy and the first thing we had at Christmastime during mass was our priest sharing bread and wine."

Other former churches have experienced backlash after being turned into pubs and nightclubs. The Duke and Rye in Chichester is housed in a former 19th-century church that was deconsecrated half a century ago. The distinctive gothic-style building, now an upmarket pub and nightclub, was previously a more rowdy pub called the Slurping Toad.

The Slurping Toad, known for its 拢1 pints, was "a bit too much for a church building at the time," says Abbie Hastings, the Duke and Rye's current manager. It was "quite a scene", open a lot later than it is now, which led to "a bit of backlash from the community", she explains. 

In its current form, the Duke and Rye retains the church's original structure, but a huge bar dominates the nave, with drum and bass in place of hymns and choir music. 

"It's brilliant because this building would probably have crumbled by now if it wasn't taken over privately," says Abbie. 

A NEW CHAPTER

Back at St Lawrence's in Wales, restorations are finally under way. Gravestones are swaddled in bubble wrap and scaffolding covers the exterior.

"I never thought we'd get to this stage," says Rachel, smiling.

She's standing inside the church nave, which looks completely different. The dark wood pews and most of the church furniture have been taken out to be treated. Once it is restored, the church will be able to have six services a year and be open every day of the year for visitors.

"Since we announced the grant we've had so many people get in touch saying they want to get involved in different ways like putting on events, fundraisers and concerts," says Rachel.

While she has worked on lots of listed buildings, churches are the projects which have moved her the most. "They are survivors," she says. "A community's greatest expression of itself over centuries.

"That you can just drive to any village, town or city and there will be a church that will be open... I find that really special and something that should be protected."