Well, I'm beginning to settle in at Pembroke House, the church-cum-community-centre off the Old Kent Road in South London. Yes, I'm on the first of the browns (#sicktodeathofthemonopolyreference)!
One thing I expected on moving from a beauty spot in rural Dorset to London's urban sprawl was a sense that God was not here. One of the most common comments from guests at Hilfield was, "This is such a beautiful place. I can really feel God here." Walworth is not quite the same.
Churches spend a lot of time designing their altars. I've put up a few pictures of the beautiful wooden altar at Hilfield, and I'm always struck by how natural and organic it feels - it is almost as if it is still alive. Well, our altar at St Christopher's is made of concrete.
But it's not dead. It is very much alive. And it's not alive because the concrete has been moulded into some intricate and natural shape. It really hasn't, though it is elegant in its own sort of way. It is alive because it reflects the life of this place, a life that isn't woody, and certainly isn't sweeping landscapes and rolling pastures.
No. One of the things I am really confronted with on moving here is how much the life of God sustains this place. God has to give it life. The natural landscape is gone, almost completely removed. Rather, the place sings with the vibrancy of the people who live here. It sings with their food, their openness, the colours of their clothing, and - a lot of the time - their laughter and their praise.
The Aylesbury Arts Event to launch the first phase of the redevelopment of the estate
Perhaps here even more than at Hilfield (and I say this with the disclaimer that I am certainly in my London honeymoon period) you get the sense that God is really working His purpose out through those that live here. Without the fields and hills to give me a sense of God's presence, I'm forced to look even more closely for him in those around me.
'God is love, and those who abide in love abide in God, and God abides in them.' 1 John 4:16
Lord, thankyou for my brothers and sisters,
for those I live alongside,
and for all those who welcome me every day into their lives.
Give me grace to see you in them,
and just perhaps,
let them see you in me.
Peace and goodwill from London
