Brian Kay is showing me round the ancient parish church of Fulbrook. It feels warm and well used, something he attributes to a recent scheme to remove half the pews and build a kitchen and loos. There’s no village hall, so the church is used for everything from keep fit to parish council meetings. ‘It’s the social and spiritual hub of the village,’ he says.

Brian – who lives next door – is the organist, although his work commitments make it hard to be there every Sunday. When we meet, he is preparing for a performance of Handel’s Messiah by the Burford Singers. The benefice used the work as the basis for its Lent lectures with Brian speaking from a musician’s point of view.

‘The danger is that it can be either a musical experience or a great spiritual experience,’ he says. ‘I did a workshop recently and someone said to me, “I never thought about the words.” I don’t know how people can go through it like that – the words are so important.

‘Handel was very much his own man: he knew he was always right. Before the coronation of King George II, the king sent the bishops round to discuss the anthems. Handel said, “I know my Bible very well and I shall choose for myself.”’

The text for the Messiah was chosen by Charles Jennens, a librettist Handel had worked with before. ‘Handel said “It’s perfect”, and shut himself away for three weeks to write it. He worked with astonishing speed and got it absolutely dead right.’ The Messiah tends to be performed at Christmas, but the well known Christmas choruses and arias form only the prologue to the main events: the crucifixion and the resurrection.

Why does Brian think it is so enduringly popular? ‘It’s a masterpiece: wonderful words and wonderful music, and that’s enough for me,’ he says. ‘Even 200 years ago it was pulling in the crowds. I’d like to think it is because he tells the story so wonderfully. It reminds people of the events that changed and saved lives across the whole of history.

‘I’ve conducted it more than 30 times and every time I see something new. There’s no such thing as “just another Messiah”. It’s always a life-enhancing experience.”

Brian’s love of church music was fostered at Cambridge. He’d been brought up a Yorkshire Methodist and a teacher suggested he try for a choral scholarship at King’s College.

‘Singing at King’s for three years was absolutely wonderful. Director David Willcocks was in his prime, and a huge and wonderful influence. My colleagues were Andrew Davis, John Eliot Gardiner, and John Rutter was round the corner at Clare. They were heady days. Singing in King’s every day taught me more than anything else to think about the words and meaning. It was such a privilege.’
Brian was confirmed as an Anglican during his first year, though he still enjoys Methodist services, and admits that the Fulbrook congregation sing more Charles Wesley hymns than most. ‘I love the formality and language of the Anglican Church. I despair of modern translations. The Authorised Version could never be improved on. And though you get used to the modern version, you feel you are on home ground with the Book of Common Prayer.’

After Cambridge he spent a year in Oxford, studying for a Diploma in Education, where he managed to sing Evensong in both Christ Church and New College by sprinting up the High Street between services. Then came five years as a lay clerk at Westminster Abbey; and of course the King’s Singers, of which he was a founder member.

Fifteen years and 2,000 concerts later, he found his way into broadcasting with the BBC. His many series include ‘Brian Kay’s Sunday Morning’ and ‘Brian Kay’s Light Programme’ on Radio Three; ‘Friday Night is Music Night’ on Radio Two; ‘Comparing Notes’ on Radio Four; and ‘Classics with Kay’ on the World Service. He has twice won Sony Awards. Somehow he also found the time to conduct well known choirs such as the Huddersfield Choral Society and the Really Big Chorus. Church music remains close to his heart: he is a Vice President of the Royal School of Church Music. But there’s no trace of contempt in this familiarity. ‘If I’m playing hymns on the organ, I can’t accompany unless I sing every word. When I’m conducting, I mouth every word. I couldn’t make music, without words. It would be an empty experience,’ he added.