|I love evensong. Weekday evenings, if I find myself in central London, I will always slip anonymously into Westminster Abbey or St Paul’s Cathedral and, alone and unnoticed, close my eyes and lose myself in the prayer and the music.
As a teenager, I was a chorister at a less grand cathedral, and it was there I fell in love with evensong, with the cadences of 16th century prayer and liturgy, with Anglican chant and the psalms, with the glories of English church music. In the choir stalls or as a worshipper, my adolescent self was poleaxed by the beauty, transfixed by the inexplicable holiness of the service, the place, the words, the music. Baffled by a style of worship I didn’t understand, nevertheless I understood that here I had found holiness and mystery and the transcendent, unimaginable God of love. Read more