Stumbled into a service yesterday, I forget what they call it.. the Eucharist?  Sounds about right. Anyway, in some ancient but not particularly touristy church, in a seemingly somewhat normal (by this I mean: brick rowhouses, no giant glass skyscrapers, pub on the corner) piece of downtown London. Felt somewhat awkward intruding, but I figured I’d watch quietly from the outskirts if it was a Buddhist ceremony in Japan, so why not here. Sat at the back, stood when they stood, sat when they sat, and so on. Certainly gave me a more profound appreciation of church acoustics. The minister (priest?), with his classic British accent, was probably nothing special. But in such a church, with spectacular vaulted ceilings, it’s chairs nearly empty… His voice was sonorous. A message amplified by the careful work of many hands. There is a pleasant intensity to such a ceremony, and the history of it. Religion may be dying in the UK (as elsewhere), and I can’t say I’m sad to see it go, but it is good to be reminded of the positives that religion can bring. Besides the wonderful edifice, the few people there share a bond. They shook hands all around at the end of the ceremony, and while they certainly didn’t seem like friends (though I’m not sure I’d recognize the signs of British friendship), that small human contact with a stranger is more than many get in a day, especially in a place like central London, which has the usual big-city aloofness. I think the beauty is in the common purpose… there is something intrinsically appealing in seeing people come together to further an end, especially when that end doesn’t obviously, immediately benefit them. I realize that religion only half-fits this description, as fear of eternal damnation is certainly a selfish motive, but to the extent that people worship, and pray, and build these wonderful buildings, not because it is good for them individually, but because it is right, there is much goodness here.