It hangs in the air. You can sense it upon entering the building. Something happens here that doesn't happen everywhere (though it should and it shall). Here is a place of prayer, of sacrifice and praise, of thanksgiving and song, and above all, of the gifts that call all that forth. Every time I enter the nave of St. Paul's it hits me. Silences me. Calls me to stop being trivial and to lift up the heart to God. It's just after five, and time to go over to pray Vespers. There is a remarkable peace that comes from praying in such a hallowed space - the prayers of previous generations swirl around you and you know in a way that defies explanation that you are not alone.
30 October 2007
A Hallowed Space
It hangs in the air. You can sense it upon entering the building. Something happens here that doesn't happen everywhere (though it should and it shall). Here is a place of prayer, of sacrifice and praise, of thanksgiving and song, and above all, of the gifts that call all that forth. Every time I enter the nave of St. Paul's it hits me. Silences me. Calls me to stop being trivial and to lift up the heart to God. It's just after five, and time to go over to pray Vespers. There is a remarkable peace that comes from praying in such a hallowed space - the prayers of previous generations swirl around you and you know in a way that defies explanation that you are not alone.
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