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            | Find out how to reproduce this report in your church magazine or website. |  |  | 1028: St James, Spanish Place, Marylebone, London 
 
  
 Mystery Worshipper: Thames Swimmer.
 The church: St James, Spanish Place, Marylebone, London.
 Denomination: Roman Catholic.
 The building: The building dates from 1890 and looks as though it 
   were plopped down diagonally in the middle of the block, perhaps pointing 
   toward Rome just as mosques point toward Mecca. Very cathedral-like in appearance 
   both inside and out. The interior is full of nooks and crannies containing 
   statues, candle stands and bookcases. The sanctuary is heavily gold-leaved, 
   and the church on the whole reminded me of an All Saints Margaret Street 
   pumped up a bit.
 The church community: The parish itself, as its name suggests, is descended 
   from the Roman Catholic chapel of the Spanish Embassy to Queen Elizabeth 
   I, which was located on Spanish Place (thus the name). It sponsors a large 
   number of societies ranging from a Walsingham pilgrimage group to a Taizé 
   prayer circle. The parish masses run the gamut from an Old Rite mass early 
   on Sunday to the 10.30 sung Latin mass which I attended. The congregation 
   were very multicultural and surprisingly mixed in age.
 The neighbourhood: Whilst walking to the church from Baker Street, 
   I noted that many of the shops were bridal shops. The Wallace Collection 
   occupies the space just south of the church in the former Spanish Embassy 
   building. It’s a very quiet neighbourhood (at least on Sunday morning) 
   and full of blocks of flats in buildings named Such-and-so Mansions.
 The cast: The Rev. Terence Phipps, rector.
 
 What was the name of the service?
 Sung Latin Mass and Te Deum for the installation of Pope Benedict 
   XVI.
 
 How full was the building?
 Between one-third and one-half full.
 
 Did anyone welcome you personally?
 My first touch of nostalgia for 1950s Roman Catholicism was provided by 
   a group of ladies, all in hats, who welcomed arriving worshippers. However, 
   the book I was handed (a hymnal) was not actually used during the service.
 
 Was your pew comfortable?
 There were stiff-back hard-seat wooden chairs, with no obvious place to 
   put hymn books, leaflets or other material. A free-standing kneeling bench 
   ran down each row. Comfortable? Not all that bad for an unpadded chair.
 
 How would you describe the pre-service
atmosphere?
 There was a steady stream of arrivals preceding and during the service. 
   Candles were lit, seats claimed, but a reverential space was kept between 
   people. The second touch of nostalgia came when I spied the rosaries emerging 
   from pockets and beads being told. There were lots of babies, but no crying! 
   Then the sacristy bell tinkled and off we went.
 
 What were the exact opening words of the
service?
 Father Phipps began with “In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus 
   Sancti.” However, the choir had previously sung a plainsong introit 
   that pleased my ear but couldn't be understood given the acoustics of the 
   place.
 
 What books did the congregation use during the
service?
 Upon entering, I was handed a bulletin and hymnal, neither of which was 
   used. Ushers distributed the Association for Latin Liturgy Mass VIII: 
   De Angelis and a Te Deum leaflet. Others who arrived after 
   mass had begun got a different book with the Latin propers. There was, however, 
   no sign of a leaflet with introit, collect, readings, and other prayers 
   for that particular Sunday. As I took my degree in Latin and Greek, I could 
   have put such a leaflet to good use.
 
 What musical instruments were played?
 Organ.
 
 Did anything distract you?
 A range of distractions beckoned the wandering eye and ear, and I fear I 
   succumbed: the gold-leafed sanctuary, the gold fiddleback that Father Phipps 
   wore, the clicking of rosaries around me, the dove suspended from a canopy 
   over the pulpit, my own memories of Latin masses served decades ago.
 
 Was the worship stiff-upper-lip, happy clappy, or
what?
 It was Gregorian for the most part. I was intrigued to see that the readings 
   were in English but ended with Verbum Domini (the word of the Lord).
 
 Exactly how long was the sermon?
 9 minutes.
 
 On a scale of 1-10, how good was the preacher?
 7  I was impressed by the topicality of this sermon and the fact that it was not triumphalist, but catholic in the best and truest sense of that word.
 
 In a nutshell, what was the sermon
about?
 John 14:1-6 has come up frequently for Father Phipps lately: "In my 
   Father's house there are many mansions." The Church is Christ’s 
   Church, not ours. The call to salvation is addressed to everyone, a point 
   that was made by the Pope in his sermons over the past few days. The Catholic 
   Church is universal, but people other than Catholics also have access to 
   salvation, because it is Christ who brings salvation.
 
 Which part of the service was like being in
heaven?
 The music sung by the choir (who were really the choir invisible, as they 
   were hidden away in the clerestory) was heavenly.
 
 And which part was like being in... er... the other place?
 There was nothing hellish about this service, but if we can transport the 
   locus to Purgatory for a moment – I think that the acoustics would belong 
   there. As a Latinist and former altar boy in the days of Pius XII, my Latin 
   is fairly good. However, the sung introit fuzzed away above me in the tall 
   nave. Father. Phipps’s diction when he sang the collect was impeccable, 
   but either the microphone or the characteristics of the space blurred his 
   consonants to the point that I could make out only occasional words.
 
 If intercessory prayers were said, what issues were raised?
 They took the usual form of Church, world, worshipping community, those 
   who are ill, and those who have died. Particularly mentioned were Pope Benedict 
   XVI and the general election.
 
 What happened when you hung around after the service looking lost?
 Well, my impression has always been that RC churches move 'em in and move 
   'em out with no time for conviviality. However, Father Phipps announced 
   that there would be tea and coffee in the crypt underneath the church. And 
   so after the Te Deum I explored the back of the church a bit and 
   then proceeded to the crypt.
 
 How would you describe the after-service
coffee?
 The coffee was in proper cups with saucers, and the biscuits ranged from 
   digestives to Jaffa Cakes. I sat down at a table with an older gent, and 
   we were joined by a member of the Horse Guards who proceeded to discuss 
   the propriety of feeding beer to horses (something of which the Horse Guards 
   were accused, apparently). I was thrilled to learn that horses, when confronted 
   with cans of lager, will pick them up in their mouths, crush them, and drink 
   the contents with no special encouragement from Her Majesty’s Horse 
   Guards. Just then Father Phipps came to my rescue, making a beeline for 
   me and introducing himself. I did wonder for a moment whether he’d 
   counted the collection and discovered the mystery worshipper card. Two ladies 
   then sat down with us and discussed various aspects of the parish with me. 
   I left shortly thereafter, pleasantly cheered by the conviviality I found 
   at a coffee hour I hadn't been expecting.
 
 How would you feel about making this church your regular (where 10 = ecstatic, 0 = terminal)?
 5  Well, I swam the Thames, remember, so it would have to be zero. 
   However, were I still a Roman Catholic, I’d give St James a 10. They 
   really are a worshipping community worth joining.
 
 Did the service make you feel glad to be a
Christian?
 I am always glad to be a Christian, and this service made me feel not only 
   glad, but also saddened by the divisions that make it necessary for me to 
   separate myself from these worthy Christians. Not being welcome to receive 
   communion was especially troubling. I must say that when I learned I would 
   be mystery worshipping a Roman Catholic service, I thought I might be overwhelmed 
   by a remembrance of things I’d long buried in my past. But that didn’t 
   happen, which was a relief. The Roman Catholic church has moved on, and 
   so have I. Deo gratias.
 
 What one thing will you remember about all this in seven days' time?
 Beer-drinking horses, I fear.
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