I've been spending a lot of time in churches this advent. It's been really special.

Evensong at Southwark Cathedral. Sitting quietly in a cavernous medieval church in Gloucestershire, lit only by a handful of candles. Finding myself through synchronicity and positive interactions, kneeling on the floor at the very front of an evening mass at the epic St Patrick's church in Soho Square (do go in if you are ever passing by, it is jaw dropping, like being in Rome, not even kidding). Staring in awe at the ceiling of Hampton Court Palace's Chapel Royal. State carol service at the Chapel Royal in the Tower of London. Evening carol service at St Martin's in the Fields off Trafalgar Square. Passing a church on a walk, peeking in and hearing an orchestra rehearsing New World Symphony (Hovis song) for a concert that evening (hair-raising).

It's given me a lot to reflect on.

I've thought about the role that churches have played historically in our society. I heard a great quote that the history of England is found in its churches.

I've thought about how in all that London gets ripped up and modernised with new developments of flats, churches are often all that is left of the past. One of the few things that seem to have withstood raging capitalism.

I've thought about Christmas. Going to these carol and advent services, it has been amazing to actually experience and feel what Christmas is really all about. It's been a bit of a nostalgia train as well, singing carols that I loved when I was a child, hearing the stories again that I already know so well.

St Martin in the Fields, Trafalgar Square

I've thought about stories. And how when we hear these stories growing up, linked with certain times of year, year after year, it generates a feeling of connection. To yourself, to history, to others. A sense of sharing an experience. Creating a ritual through retelling. And the Christmas story is such a rich one with such heady imagery! Taking you to pastures, deserts, the stars, the innocence of a baby, the love of parents, a straw filled stable, angels, gold, frankincense and myrrh. It is something to feel that this story is part of me and my culture and my growing up.

I've thought about how much I love when sacred and historic spaces are alive and active with their original purpose. Going to the carol service at the Tower of London really brought that to life. While the rest of the fortress is now a museum, with barely a shadow left of what various parts would actually have been used for, the chapel is still alive as a place of worship. A full congregation singing, sermons, an angelic choir, the organist filling the space with music. This is where people have been coming to pray for hundreds and hundreds of years, and here we were doing the same for real. The thread of history still being spun.

I've thought about how as much as I am starting to understand and appreciate certain aspects of Christianity, certain fundamental elements I disagree with. But that is ok, because at an even more fundamental level, I know that we are on the same page. I also could understand why devoted Christians/followers of other religions worry that the lack of spiritual life in society today is leading to a breakdown of values. A really sacred space was being created and shared and I could see how the idea of people not having that in their lives was sad and scary.

I've thought about how much I love Christmas carols and choirs. And how when you go to a service and sing your heart out, and the choir sings the more complex harmonies alongside you, inviting you into a magnificent auditory and sensory experience, you really feel like you are part of something beautiful.

It's been a December to remember. It's felt like a real blessing to spend so much of it in sacred spaces and ceremonies. Giving thanks!

<3