I used to live next door to a Methodist Chapel. The neighbour on the other side was also catholic [only in name] and used to run his garden strimmer underneath their window every sunday just as the preacher was about to preach so that you could not hear what he was saying.
I took great offence at this and though raised as a catholic, felt it my duty to attend the chapel as a sign of both my disapproval to his unChristian behaviour and to show my solidarity with them.
I became a regular attender so that I was still attending long after he had moved from our village.
It was there that I rediscovered my voice and now sing with great gusto at mass.
I will always remember some of the fantastic sermons. Always remember an old preacher with a very broad Norfolk accent who ended his sermon with the words about the bible that it 'started with a tale of a garden and ended with a city of gold [revelation]
Many fond memories of Methodism
God bless you