Coffee & company
Our coffee morning gathers on the second Saturday of each month at 10:30am. No agenda, no charge, and nobody minds if you only came for the biscuits.
Truth noun in accordance with fact or reality
Sunday 11:00am · Pimhole Road, BuryA Christian presence in Pimhole since 1866
A marvelous Victorian church in the heart of Bury, this cornerstone, built on solid ground, was raised by people who believed in Christ alone. Still open, still worshipping, and still glad to see you.
St Thomas is small enough to learn your name and old enough to have heard every kind of story.
Whether church is familiar, faith is new, or you simply need somewhere quiet to sit and think for an hour, there is room here, and nobody will ask you to explain yourself at the door. But make no mistake about why we gather: Jesus Christ is risen. A risen Christ changes what a life is for.
What actually happens on a Sunday
Why go to such trouble
In 1866 Bury ran on cotton, smoke and long hours. Thomas Openshaw of Primrose Hill could have spent his money on almost anything at all. He spent it on this.
The architect, Laurence Booth, drew a spire and set it higher than every roof for streets around. Masons whose names were never written down dressed each block by hand, cut lancet after lancet, and carved a figure into the stone at the foot of that spire — where nobody standing below would ever see it properly. They finished it anyway.
Nobody goes to that trouble for a hobby. Nobody carves for an audience that cannot see. They built like this because they were convinced of something very specific: that God became a man, that he was executed on a Roman cross outside Jerusalem, and that three days later the tomb was empty.
If that is true, no quantity of good stone is excessive. If it is not, this is the most expensive mistake in Bury. They gave their answer in sandstone — and it has been standing for a hundred and sixty years.
The reason for all of it
Not to the stone. Not to the glass, the carving, or the memory of the people who paid for it. Beauty here is a signpost — and a signpost that asks to be worshipped has failed at the one job it had.
Everything in this building leans in a single direction. The last stone on the roofline is a cross. A crucifixion is painted on the wall inside. And a cross stands at the centre of everything that happens at the table. They are there because of what happened on the original: Jesus Christ paid, in full and in our place, a debt that none of us could cover.
That is why we kneel — not out of fear, and not for a building. The price is already settled. The life it bought is meant to be lived: honestly, mercifully, and without ever pretending we earned it.
God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ.
Galatians 6:14
Truthnoun in accordance with fact or reality
Sunday at St Thomas
Our main act of worship begins at 11:00am. Expect prayer, scripture, music, and a congregation that will be genuinely pleased you came. Words are provided for everything; nothing is expected of you but your presence.
Church beyond Sunday
A church building is only useful when it is used. Ours is open for far more than an hour a week.
Our coffee morning gathers on the second Saturday of each month at 10:30am. No agenda, no charge, and nobody minds if you only came for the biscuits.
Bible study and shared courses make space to ask the awkward questions rather than tiptoe around them.
From quilting and music to fairs and concerts, this building belongs in the ordinary life of its neighbourhood.
A new season · 2026
St Thomas is entering a hopeful season of renewal, in partnership between the congregation already worshipping here and a new planting team.
The vision is not complicated: prayer, shared mission, honest care for a remarkable building, and a longing to see lives changed as people meet Jesus for themselves.
Read the Diocese announcementLook closer
Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.
Matthew 11:28