Windowless Church

The interior of the church of St Mary le Strand, London is as splendid as its exterior. The latter I have seen often, but to the insides I was only made privy this summer, despite numerous visits. I saw its open doors from the top deck of a London bus and immediately pressed the bell to seize the rare opportunity that providence afforded.

Although grandiose and baroque, it is somewhat dark owing to the absence of ground floor windows. Work started in 1714 under the architect James Gibbs, who thought that the noise of the passing carriages would be reduced by the solid walls. The Strand was then a busy thoroughfare, whereas now the area about the church is a pedestrianised precinct, but alas, there are few worshippers to benefit from this relative hush.

We at Martin Top inhabit a more rural setting, but our Lancashire arcadia is not free from distraction. One recent Sunday at Salem Chapel, we kept open the doors because of the heat, but closed them after the fifth tractor noisily went by. Sometimes the cattle’s lowing competes with the preacher’s admonitions. Occasionally, an intruding butterfly distracts the auditor with its fluttering and unsuccessful attempts at escape. Furthermore, there are always our own thoughts which would rob our attention and spoil our concentration. Windows onto the world can be helpful, but the noise of passing troubles can disturb our peace and hinder our worship.

O soul, are you weary and troubled?

No light in the darkness you see?

There’s light for a look at the Savior,

And life more abundant and free!

Turn your eyes upon Jesus,

Look full in His wonderful face,

And the things of earth will grow strangely dim,

In the light of His glory and grace.

-Helen Lemmel, 1922