which he was deeply

The church, built The Landing Plat
attached.
ROTHERHITHE is an unexpected blend of Id and new: brick low rise development set in areas of lawn, the verdigris of an old church roof weathered and worn. Away to the south a wide expanse of parkland is littered with crisp fallen leaves. The locals walk their dogs, push children in buggies, stop to enjoy the late sunshine. A pastoral landscape at the heart of the city.
The parish of St Peter and the Guardian Angels, dates to the time of the first East End Missions, developing from the Mother parish at Dockhead. The first parish priest, Fr Joseph Haynes, came here in 1891, residing with the priests of Dockhead until accommodation was found in Paradise Street. Paradise, in name only, for he was far from comfortable with the arrangements: "It is not exactly," he wrote, "the sort of house I should have chosen...it is scarcely capable of being improved."
Fr Haynes set about consolidating the parish, raising funds to extend St Joseph's school, which also served as a Mass centre and securing a new and rather more salubrious presbytery. But his lasting monument was the building of a permanent church. The diocese acquired a site adjoining the school in Paradise Street and a patroness was found in the person of Lady Ludovika Renouf, who wished to build a church to the memory of her late husband Sir Peter Le Page Renouf. His role as Her Majesty's Inspector for Schools had brought him frequently to St Joseph's to by architect Francis Tasker in the Romanesque style, was completed at the end of October
1902. It survived the Luftwaffe with its"bouncing" roof when a bomb landed it just lifted off its moorings like a bobbing boat instead of crumbling in. The surrounding area, by contrast, was flattened, the children evacuated to the leafy environs of Burgess Hill, far from their city.
Parish priest Fr Jack Dillon, has a touch of the 'Brian Blessed's' about him, the same wide smile, deep voice and imposing presence. I am here in the presbytery to meet some of the people of St Peter's: Sr Margaret, is one of 10 Salesian Sisters who work tirelessly for the parish. Her interest is liturgy but she is also secretary of the parish council. Tom is busy preparing the newsletter but spares a few moments to talk about parish history and the social changes which this area has seen in 50 years.
Fr Jack arrived in January 1995. A five year stint in Kenya had turned into eight and with encouragement from the Bishop he was persuaded to return to the Southwark diocese. But he has brought with him a love of Africa an enthusiasm for a land and its people. Tribal masks decorate the sitting room: "I was a priest in a parish the size of Kent. When you are new to a language and have 40 churches to cover you are forced into a truly believing and allowing the people to be the Church."
He continues: "I'll probably get in trouble for this, but I do think we are obsessed with Mass. Here there are a lot of churches in a small area yet if I were to cut a Mass, to devote more time to something else, I would be accused of being lazy. I think we have been spoilt.
"In many ways it's a question of what we are used to. People need to see the Church, as it is, beyond their own experience. Otherwise you never see the richness and diversity that is there." Does he think the people of Africa are closer to the spirit of the Gospel? "I don't know if they live it any more than we do. The Gospel is for everybody but I think we probably ignore it. The rich man went away sorrowful because he couldn't bring himself to give up his material possessions. I would hope every priest is encouraging his people to live the Gospel. Whether they accept it or not isn't important, at least they know it's been said."
The parish is a "good mix" of young and old with two flourishing Catholic schools St Joseph's and St Michael's. Mass attendance is a healthy 500/600 and they benefit from an active and interested parish council. Its latest project, commencing in Advent, is to encourage families
eto read the Scriptures in preparation for the following week. "To make the word of God come alive," interjects Fr Dillon. Liturgy has become one of the keypoints for the parish, readers meet once a week to look at the next Sunday's text, to consider the themes and issues. The meetings convey a real sense of preparation for the liturgy. The 'idea' came from Fr Dillon but he is quick to point out that the "commitment" came from the people: "I'm convinced if we don't get people reading the word of God we'll never do anything."
That sense of participation extends to the sacramental programmes. Fr Dillon is forthright about the First Communion Programme; he insists that the parents of the children must also attend a faith programme. "At the end of the day you have to ask who's calling the shots. If the parents don't come to the programme they probably don't come to Mass either and it's important that they should be there. We make it very clear that we make demands and the message gets through. After all, if I soft sell the Gospel, if I don't raise the banner who will raise it? He says it's only fair to demand a little bit of "cooperation". But does this mean children are being turned away from First Holy Communion classes because of the intransigence of their parents? "The church is full and flourishing and alive," says Sr Margaret. Enough said.
We discuss wider parish projects. This area, despite the gleaming towers of dockside, is one of the most deprived in the country. "You have to look beyond first impressions," says Sr Margaret.
We finish with a quick tour of the church, chill on this bright, clear morning. Expectations of a narrow, dark turn of the century building are dispelled by the generous space and natural light.
It is, in many ways, a modern church perfect for the demands of the liturgy. An Italianate baldechino of white and gold is the focus for the sanctuary. To the side the altar rails have been pushed back, framing the sanctuary space and helping to stop the altar boys from falling off the edge a frequent mishap. The Lady Chapel echoes the cool tones, chevrons of white and grey stone decorate the floor and side wall. The overall effect is one of simplicity and space.
The name Rotherhithe comes from the Saxon Hythe meaning, a landing place or haven. Both are appropriate for this river parish that, in its time, has marked journey's end and beginning for seafaring priests and people.
Christina White