FEWER than 50 years ago, the Darlington area had 39 Methodist churches. If proposals revealed today are fully accepted, there’ll be three; none at all in the surrounding villages.

Presently there are 13. Many have elderly congregations scattered sparsely around buildings that long since have proved unfit for purpose. Some congregations barely reach double figures.

Methodism isn’t alone, of course. Attendance at most of the traditional churches is in seemingly inexorable decline, despite many fresh and often imaginative expressions of faith. Some churches have no members under 40; some none under 60. They only get full for funerals.

They simply can’t go on as they are, maintaining and heating churches built for hundreds but which now offer a spiritual home to but the faithful few. There are better uses of resources, and of energy.

What seems particularly absurd, and there are examples throughout the North- East, is that villages and small towns have several different church buildings, each with its own diminishing congregation.

Gainford, where it’s proposed the Methodist church would close, has two other churches. Wolsingham, in Weardale, has four churches of different denominations. Though they may work ecumenically together, what sort of message of unity or of good practice does that send to the wider world?

The Darlington proposals are among the most radical in a century. Though the iconoclastic John Wesley might well approve, those who’ve spent a faithful lifetime supporting their village church will understandably be upset, fearful even.

Yet the days of the traditional hymn sandwich are gone. Today’s young people seek a more exotic spiritual diet. For all the painfulness of their proposals, the courage of the Darlington leaders should be a light to others.

The line’s well-worked, but if this be madness, then there’s Methodism in it.