Particularly Strict Around Birmingham

A friend and I drove to Birmingham last week to visit Salem Strict and Particular Baptist Chapel in the city’s Jewellery Quarter, a cause which was founded back in 1791. Mr B was appointed to preach, a handsome, sharp-minded octogenarian who is well known in his circles. The worship was as sombre and solemn as I expected, with the compulsory three hymns from Gadsby’s and a lengthy prayer between the first two. I was the only male not wearing a black, three-piece suit, and the grey pinstripe I had selected from my wardrobe may well have marked me out as a man of questionable theological pedigree.

The sermon was based upon the last three verses of John’s second chapter, and lasted over an hour. Despite its length (which may even be deemed rather brief among this circle of brethren), I grew neither bored nor restless, for the preacher commanded well his thoughts despite having no recourse to notes. Several times he became rather passionate and was keen that his hearers had the experience of God’s grace and not just the knowledge. I have listened to others speak for 20 minutes and have become impatient and agitated after five; this man might have preached 120, and I would not have minded, apart from the carpark ticket needing renewal.

Birmingham’s previous Salem Strict and Particular Baptist Chapel was all but destroyed by Nazi bombs and its rebuilding aroused some obstruction from the local council. Certainly, building like-for-like would have proved costly, and the current premises occupy a small corner of the former, which are modern and surprisingly warm. We were treated to a nourishing and welcome luncheon afterwards, so we left spiritually and physically well fed.