Sunday, December 18, 2011

St Martin In The Fields, Trafalgar Square

The upstairs is so silent. The wood is dark but the pillars and the ceiling are white. Decorated with gold. Somehow in this place where the rich and powerful worshiped I don't feel reverent only awed. I don't think that this was God's idea.

The crypt is surprising, it's full of people sitting, talking, and eating. Gone is the silence of the upstairs. It's a different world from the silent respect. There are people buried here their plaques are embedded in the stone, scraped over by plastic chairs. Underneath the silence is a boisterous place. If I were not a Christian this could convince me of hypocrisy. As it is I am sure they are simply having a meal. They mean no disrespect it is hardly different than having a potluck in one of the churches at home. The people here are simply having a meal and a conversation. But two worlds remain.

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