The pews are packed at a Darlington church for a May devotion which has clearly captured hearts and minds.

BUILT for £5,800 in 1876, the Anglican church of St James the Great is on Albert Hill, a generally working class area of Darlington. For Albert Hill read Albert Hall, for evening service read Mass production.

In the 12 years of its own existence, the column has attended more services at St James's than anywhere except Durham Cathedral and was there again this week for a "May devotion" to Our Lady of Walsingham.

The first astonished visit, in 1994, had set the Anglo-Catholic scene. "St James the Great," we wrote, "seems about as Anglican as the Basilica.

"There are more candles than a Liberace convention, more processing than a latter-day Durham Big Meeting, more crossing than Clapham Junction. It is an Empire State Building among high churches."

Visiting incognito three years ago, the "Mystery Worshipper" on the Ship of Fools website observed that the place had the fervour of a Revivalist rally and the trappings of St Peter's in Rome.

Tuesday evening, if anything, was higher, more colourful and more coruscating yet, the church building further enhanced by a £250,000 renovation which has included new roof, new west window and three new nave windows.

For Tuesday night on Albert Hill read Sunday night at the London Palladium, the seamless choreography a dance to the music of timelessness.

For Marian devotion, read ecclesiastical extravaganza.

WE arrive early, Fr Ian Grieves - vicar since 1989 - looking pretty pleased with himself. Well he might. Before the service he suggests a quick tour of the church hall across the road, itself refurbished at a cost of £120,000.

A dozen other Anglican priests from all over the region are vesting in the hall, their most familiar difference with the Church of England that it ordains women priests - "playing silly games with the girls," as a former assistant priest of St James's had put it in 1994.

Pictures in the hall include one of the last Pope. The only C of E member represented is the Queen.

The church is full 20 minutes before the service starts, a request on the order of service not to talk before Mass almost entirely acknowledged.

How could it be otherwise? The organ is sumptuous, the organists magnificent. The prelude includes a Toccata by Percy Whitlock and Fantasie by Saint-Saens. Who'd want a word in? It's simply thrilling, music to lift the most earthbound spirit.

The procession includes 13 priests, maybe ten altar servers - all male - and 25 or so impeccably attired choristers, more academic hoods - as opposed, of course, to academic hoodies - than in the average senior common room.

Much of the service is sung by the choir, bits in Greek, more in Latin. It's not often you want to applaud at the end of the Gloria; you do here.

The homily's by Brother Pascal, a Franciscan monk from Alnmouth Priory, in Northumberland. "A mother enters her teenage son's bedroom," he begins, "to find something by the bed which makes her wag her finger at the boy.

"'Promise me that you will never bring anything like that into this house again'," she says.

Was it drugs, asks Brother Pascal, or cigarettes, or alcohol? "It was a rosary. I was that 14-year-old boy, and I had brought Our Lady into a Presbyterian home.

"There exists in some people an irrational fear of Mary. They mistakenly think that any devotion given to her takes something away from Christ."

Not here. There are smells, bells and quite likely cockleshells; there are hymns to Mary, prayers for the Pope, for Christian unity - "that Mary may not be a stumbling block" - and for the "flying bishop" who oversees such Anglo-Catholic parishes.

After holy communion there's a procession around the outside of the much beautified church, accompanied by 12 verses of the Ave Maria usually sung on these occasions.

No matter that most of the hymns are very familiar. It's the same old Santa Claus and bairns don't complain about Christmas.

The procession is so complete that one end finally meets the other, so lengthy that it's as though it passes through several time zones, the head having finished the hymn while the tail's still on verse eight.

I've been round the block a few times myself, and never seen anything like this. It's followed in turn by exposition and benediction of the sacrament, reposition and at the end, praise be, Thine Be the Glory, Christendom's finest hymn.

Some of us couldn't stomach such rich fare every week, of course, nor maybe once a month, but as an annual treat it is wholly beyond compare.

It lasts for exactly two hours - extra time, no penalties - after which there's a blessed bun fight in Albert Hill Workmen's Club, where the vicar remains honorary member number one and the Roman Catholic priest number two.

Next morning there's an e-mail from a priest in another part of the diocese, who hopes to retire within kneeling distance of St James's - the Anglo-Catholic Cathedral of Darlington, he says.

"That Mass was just like a little bit of heaven on earth," he adds, "or as I imagine heaven to be, anyway."

A high church pinnacle; Mother's pride.

* Uniquely for the At Your Service column, some credits. The Vicar is Fr Ian Grieves (01325 465980), Stephen Edmonds is choirmaster and director of music, Mark Mawhinney is organist and Keith Brown assistant organist. Principal Sunday service is at 10.30am, the next great occasion the patronal festival of St James the Great on Tuesday July 25 (7.30pm).