London's churches: Houses of worship without the worship

London’s known for a lot of things: Buckingham Palace, red phone booths, fish-n-chips… It also boasts some pretty famous churches, some of which were built almost a thousand years ago. I love old architecture and I especially love churches, so I was pretty excited to walk through England’s most famous places of worship. Yet, when I visited some of these places, I didn’t see much worship going on.

First example: Westminster Abbey. Westminster Abbey is the most famous church in England, though technically I guess it’s an abbey, not a church . (It was, however, a cathedral from 1540 to 1550). It’s a huge building that dates back to 1245 and most famous for being the site of every royal coronation since William the Conqueror in 1066. When Faeth and I found it, there was a huge line to get in, and, much to our confusion, an entrance fee. (Charging for access to a church seems somewhat paradoxical to me.) But I’d heard the stories and wanted to see for myself, so I shelled out 16 pounds (about $20) and waited to go in.

London's most famous house of worship

And… it was a big disappointment. Sure, there were tombs of a bunch of famous people, such as Queen Elizabeth I and Shakespeare. The architecture was gorgeous. The history was profound. But it felt so empty and pretentious… this wasn’t a place of worship at all, at least not a place to worship God. Everywhere I looked, someone had built a shrine to dead loved ones, and almost none of these shrines even mentioned God. I was standing in one of the world’s most famous sanctuaries, yet I could see nothing sacred or sanctified in it.

It was the same with St. Paul’s Cathedral, London’s other famous place of worship. This cathedral, which was the tallest building in London for nearly 300 years, was built in 1708 and survived blitz attacks during WW2. This is where Wellington was buried and also has references to Churchill and Florence Nightingale. The building is absolutely colossal, so big it could fit probably twenty of my churches. If you climb about 150 steps, you reach the famous Whispering Hall, then another 300 steps take you to the top of the dome, where you can see incredible panoramic views of London. But this church of churches didn’t feel like a church at all; it felt more like a courthouse or assembly room. There were memorials to fallen soldiers, statues for famous dead men and plaques proudly explaining the cathedral’s history, but references to God… not so much. I understand the philosophy behind big, fancy churches: God is awesome, so you try to build Him an awesome dwelling place. But I think sometimes, a line gets crossed, and the church stops being about God and starts being about how great the human builders are: “Look at this church we built for God. Look how much we love God that we could create this incredible building!” Yet the overall affect is actually repulsive to the very sinners who need God the most, because they walk into His house and are overwhelmed with a sense of distance and unapproachability.

I couldn't get a complete picture since the building was so big--this is one I found online.

 

Are all churches in England like this? Thankfully, no! One afternoon, quite by accident, Faeth and I chanced upon Southwark Cathedral. Ever heard of it? Probably not, though it was patronized by such famous figures as William Shakespeare and Geoffrey Chaucer and has been around (in one form or another) since 1000 AD. It’s a small cathedral, relatively speaking; it could probably only fit three or four of my church inside. Yet when I walked in (freely, I might add; this church had no entrance fee), I was instantly overwhelmed with its quiet majesty and subdued beauty. Instead of throngs of people, I saw only a few other visitors, and many of the people inside were actually sitting in the sanctuary praying. Instead of tour guides, there were priests, there to offer counsel and comfort to the needy. Instead of loud speakers, there was a choir practicing songs of love and devotion to the Lord.

Southwark Cathedral was a refuge for my soul after the other churches we saw.

(This is also not my picture.)

 

After the hustle and bustle of London, and after the opulence and pretentiousness of the famous cathedrals I’d already seen, Southwark rejuvenated my soul. Everywhere I looked, I could see a reference to God. This church was not made to glorify itself but its true Creator. I felt a kinship with these believers, like we were all part of the same family. I ended up visiting this church two more times, three days in a row, every day until Faeth and I left London. It was a sanctuary in the middle of London’s noise and confusion. I knew I could go there and find peace and rest.

Southwark Cathedral was my favorite part of London, and I know I will never forget this humble little cathedral, which points towards God instead of pointing back to famous people who once attended its services. That’s what church should be focused on, and what true churches do focus on: not the external appearance, not the eloquence of the pastor, not the beauty of the choir, not the prestige of the members, but the reason for everything we do and everything we are: our Heavenly Father. Without Him, the most opulent cathedral is just a hollow shell; with Him, the lowest church building is a glorious cathedral.