Westminster Cathedral, with its kaleidoscopic silhouette of balconies, tower and domes set back from Victoria Street about a mile from parliament, is the spiritual home of English Roman Catholics. Working there for 24 years, I saw some peculiar things — none so strange as the night we had to shoot down a flotilla of inflated condoms.

The cathedral came under attack in different ways on many occasions. The publication of certain Catholic edicts, or the re-emphasis of traditional church principles, could incite mob fury.

One year, after our annual service for Christian unity, I had to smuggle Robert Runcie, then Archbishop of Canterbury, through the tradesmen’s entrance to avoid Anglican protesters who were screaming abuse outside.

The protest that got completely out of hand was led by Peter Tatchell and concerned gay rights. The church was launching a new catechism that had upset various pressure groups. The section saying homosexual activity was wrong had particularly aroused anger, protest and even rioting around the world.

On that Sunday there were hundreds of protesters, including “Catholic Women for Ordination”. Most were orderly; but Tatchell urged his gay rights mob into the cathedral. There were about a hundred of them, chanting.

Our organist played Dear Lord and Father of Mankind, Forgive our Foolish Ways fantastically loud to drown out the protests. But Tatchell’s cohorts had the cardinal and clergy surrounded in the sanctuary — the sacred heart of the cathedral, which contains the altar.

The stalemate was broken only when one of our vergers spotted a column of mounted riot police, with shields and batons, riding up Victoria Street from Parliament Square. The officer in charge led them at a trot straight at the cathedral doors, which were wide open. It must have looked to the gay rights protesters as if they were going to charge on horseback all the way up the aisle.

At the last moment the horses were pulled up and, like a cowboy posse, the police dismounted in unison and strode into the cathedral. Within 20 minutes all the invaders had been ejected. But not before they had released hundreds of helium-inflated condoms, some the size of mini airships, 10ft long at least, which floated up into our five domes.

The real problem started next day when the condoms began to deflate and come down during a young people’s confirmation service conducted by Bishop Patrick O’Donoghue, the cathedral administrator. A steady deluge fell through the readings, the confirmation and finally the eucharist.

It was difficult to keep a straight face as the condoms drifted down on the congregants’ heads. One landed on the bishop’s mitre and he swung out and popped another with his crozier. The final indignity came when one descended on the altar during mass.

Dozens were still floating defiantly up in the cathedral’s domes, however. The order was received from the cardinal’s office: “Get rid of the flying condoms!”

One of the priests pointed out that pigeons, which frequently flew into the cathedral and were unable to find their way out, were shot down with air rifles, using special darts. Could this be the answer to the condom problem?

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