St James’s, Spanish Place, is definitely my favourite church in London. Its elegant vaults are reminiscent of a French Gothic cathedral. Its shadowy interior and its numerous, still-adorned side altars give it that feeling of immemorial devotion which makes stepping into it from the proximity of Oxford Street, Europe’s busiest shopping street, feel like sanctuary.
The church has that actualised silence which only places that have been much prayed-in have. Perhaps this is what gave rise to the now unusual experience of arriving before the start of a Confirmation ceremony and finding the congregation in silence, some kneeling – in contrast to the bedlam of loud conversation and laughter which is the normal precursor to parish Confirmations today. No one came out to remind us to switch off our phones, or suggest that it might be nice idea to prepare with a few moments of silence.
