Day Six, London, 7 March 2010

I have asked friends on liturgy-l to suggest places for me to go to mass this morning, and several have made recommendations.  I have chosen to go to St. Mary the Virgin, on Bourne Street in Belgravia.  One person wrote the history of the building, and described it as "rather cheaply built" - glorious to me.  If Shawn Tribe (see: http://www.newliturgicalmovement.org/) were following this blog, I'm certain that my appearance at this church would warm the cockles of his heart (somewhat - he being a rather ardent Roman Catholic).  The liturgy was celebrated to the east quite solemnly with deacon and subdeacon and then some:

St. Mary the Virgin, Bourne Street

The particulars about the music are: Setting: Western Wind Mass by Sheppard, Offertory: In ieiunio et fletu by Tallis, and the Communion: In manus tuus, by Sheppard.  Fiddleback, sung Epistle and Gospel; oddly enough the Celebrant sang everything recto tono, but the others were quite good.  The angelus was said, not sung, following the service.  All of this brought back memories of Pete Bastien, Paul Lutze, Mike Gruel, Jeff Zetto, Dennis Kohl, and John Jurik (and myself, of course) gathering together in Massachusetts to do Luther's Formula Missae et Communionis in full pontifical style. 

The physicality of the building is quite wonderful, with a baroque altar, wonderful carvings, and paintings.  I really felt as though I could worship.  I shall have to thank my friend Sanford Maclean for such a good recommendation.  Leaving the church, I noticed the brickwork combined with some granite - quite handsome.

Brick work and carving at St. Mary the Virgin

From there I walked up Eaton Square in the general direction of Westminster Cathedral.  In the sun it was quite warm, and it was pleasant walking in this particular neighborhood.  People keep asking me directions, and I, surprisingly, know where to direct them.  I arrive at Westminster and a mass is in full swing, so I just look inside.  I wanted to see if they were going to use the Extraordinary Form (in other words, not facing the people).  The altar looked as though it was prepared for that kind of celebration, but they were only at the Epistle and that would have meant waiting out another sermon, so I went on my way.  

The Albert, a pub

I had an interesting English lunch at the Albert in the carvery on the second floor where the waiters all seemed to be American.  It was rather ordinary, but heartening in a funny kind of way.  Paté with a curious relish of raisins and preserved citrus, and salad, with ordinary toast, Roast Pork with a bland stuffing, cooked apples, a roasted potato, and a yorkshire pudding, was the fare.  It was way too much food, but the price wasn't bad.  

St. Margaret's Westminster

From there I walked over to Saint Margaret's, the parish church cheek and jowl to Westminster Abbey.  It was open so I went in, and someone was playing the organ.  I took an illegal photograph (above) and walked around a bit.  The window over the entrance to the nave is devoted to Elizabeth I.  There are some religious windows, some not surviving WWII, but this is definitely The House of Commons Church.  The altar cross was awash in a sea of politics and history.  When the organist decided to do The Ride of the Valkyrie, I decided to make a hasty retreat.

I walked the short distance to Westminster Abby and saw a knot of people at the front entrance gate shaking their heads and leaving - and thought the worst of it.  However when I got there, and asked about Evensong, they ushered me right in.  Directed down the left aisle by a phalanx of stewards, I came up to the great crossing.  The usher looked at me and said, "That collar will get you a seat in the choir."  And so it did - how they selected those of us lucky enough to sit in the choir remained a mystery to me.  Most everyone else was relegated to the transepts.  This is as good as it gets (although perhaps King's would be better).  Evening Prayer with sermon: we got to sing two hymns, and the quire did everything else - including the responses.  It was lovely - and the tone!  Prior to the office, the organist did the Persichetti Organ Sonata.  Again I thought of old days, when I turned pages for that piece.  The sermon was actually alright - urging us to make use of sacred places and to be inspired by them.  

Crocus (Croci?) in St. James' Park

I stay to hear the postlude, and then decide to walk back to Trafalgar by way of St. James' Park and Admiralty Arch.  It is sunny but cold with an almost bitter wind - but the sun does it's best.  In the park I find daffodils ready to pop, and some brave crocus in purple splendor.  On the way I notice a modern sculpture that stands as a monolith next to a dark and modern building.  I thought about statues again, and I wondered what this one has to say.  Perhaps our time has little to say, and plenty to be worried about.  

Now I'm looking for tea, and perhaps a concert.  I missed a chance last night for the Fauré Reguiem.  But there is no offering at St. Martin in the Fields, and the Café which seemed charming yesterday is loud and noisy.  I go to a small place up near Leicester Square, and have a dessert made with black currents - quite good, and run by Germans!  I make my way back to Charing Cross, and take the tube home.  It has been a fulfilling day.