I saw a joyful thing last week; the kind that makes you laugh out loud with pleasure. I went all the way to Paris to see the Musée d’Orsay’s blockbuster Manet/Degas exhibition this spring – no regrets, it was stunning – but I got almost as much delight from this, the travelling knitted Bible created by St George’s United Reformed church in Hartlepool.
Part of the joy was the complete surprise. I was at Repair Café in York and saw a sign advertising the knitted Bible. It was in the church just next door, so I went to look. I don’t know what I was expecting – a cross between a book and a jumper, I think, which makes no sense – but not this: 36 meticulously knitted scenes from the Old and New Testaments.
I wandered, rapt, marvelling at all the brilliant details: 100 sheep – that is a lot of sheep – for the parable featuring an exasperated-looking shepherd carrying a lost one under his arm; Jonah half ingurgitated by the whale; tiny, shiny snails and knobbly kneed camels in Noah’s ark; the feeding of the “lots” (“It’s supposed to be thousands, but we haven’t got the space!” reads the Facebook page). “We really like John the Baptist,” said one of the women minding it, getting on with her own, unrelated, knitting. “He’s very fluffy.” He is; magnificently so.
Bowled over, I emailed the organisers. Apparently, the original plan, in 2018, was for a knitted Last Supper, but the imagination and enthusiasm of the congregation and friends (about 50 knitters) ran wild. It’s still going; two scenes were added this year.
You might be able to experience this woolly joy for yourself. It travels to churches around the country, with dates booked until this time next year; the schedule is online. See it if you can; I went twice. I am neither Christian nor a crafter, but you would have to have a heart of stone (unlike the boulder in scene 32, the Resurrection, neatly knitted in grey wool) not to be moved by this endearing and intricate labour of love.
• Emma Beddington is a Guardian columnist
