London Journal--Days 5 & 6

Yesterday I went with Dr. S to St. Paul's for the sung Eucharist, with an all-male choir including some sweetly amusing, fidgety, easily distracted young boys. The Bishop of London gave the sermon, which is something of a Big Deal. He has the kind of voice that could make a reading of the Periodic Table enthralling. For his theme, he spoke about "peace" in the broader sense, about social justice and human beings' obligation to create a peaceful world by behaving kindly and taking care of one another. He also didn't hesitate to call out those whom he thought were not contributing to this ideal, such as the leaders of Burma, the wagers of war in the mideast or those who would call themselves Christians but ignore, undermine or deny this ideal of peace.

On the way there, and after, I thought quite a bit about the previous, and only other time I'd been to a service at St. Paul's. It was the 9-11 remembrance service. A group of study abroad students and I had arrived in London not 48 hours before the first plane crashed into the towers. I had been grocery shopping at the Oxford Street Tesco when it happened, and arrived back at the flat while BBC news was showing footage of what then was still thought to be just a bizarre and tragic accident.

We all went to St. Paul's early, as a group, and were seated inside about 2/3 of the way back. The crowd grew until the entire area outside of St. Paul's was filled with mourners. The service was sad and incredibly painful, yet comforting and somehow inspiring of hope. Over the next few months, as we continued our study abroad program we were also unavoidably but unconsciously developing a global perspective on 9-11 and on the US reaction to it. And a huge, seemingly unbreachable wall arose between ourselves and our friends and family. Most of them had turned so deeply inward that they could only perceive our objectivity, our "outsider" perspective as intentionally insulting and uncaring. It was so, so hard on the students, who struggled even to find the vocabulary to describe the alienation they were experiencing, but who at least knew they could trust one another to understand, wordlessly.

After St. Paul's yesterday, we walked in the too-hot sunshine down to Covent Garden for lunch. All of the usual tourist-attracting antics were in progress. But the Doc Marten's flagship store had disappeared. I was sad. No new shoes for me.