The Church & the City

The heart of present-day London is a one-square-mile area known simply as the City. After the Great Fire of 1666 wiped out its 13,000 houses and 84 churches, from Pudding Lane to Newgate, the City was gradually rebuilt--most of its churches by Sir Christopher Wren. But by World War II it had become more and more a place in which to work rather than to live; the nighttime population was down to 8,000, and after the blitz there were only 5,000, many of them caretakers and night watchmen. But there were still the remains of 40 churches. What to do with them?

Tear them down, said the practical prelates, and sell the sites. At city prices of close to $300 a square foot, this would provide a fabulous windfall with which to build new churches in the suburbs, raise clerical salaries and finance overseas missions. The mere thought of such desecration gave antiquarian Anglicans the pip: the City's churches--especially Wren's--were national treasures, they cried. The war damage should be repaired, and the churches could be turned into museums to remind traipsing tourists and native agnostics of the Church of England's ancient glory.

Never on Sunday. Since the Church of England is an established church, each parish church is bound by law to hold Sunday services, whether anyone attends or not. But to former Bishop of London John Wand (now canon of St. Paul's) and London's Archdeacon Oswin Gibbs-Smith, a third possibility presented itself: "Why not a church that could be there for the daytime City workers?" Sixteen of the 40 churches were set up on a new basis and called "Guild Churches"--closed on Sundays, open on weekdays, with emphasis on the lunch hour. A number of the Guild Churches branched out in novel aspects of church work--"sort of ecclesiastical laboratories," as one cleric called them.

"It was a brilliant idea," said the Rev. Newell Wallbank of St. Bartholomew the Great last week. In nine years since the London Guild Church Act was passed, the church has come alive in the City. Today some City churches have larger congregations five days a week than many a country church sees of a Sunday. Pavement posters and office notice boards attract City workers to concerts and choir practice, discussion groups and short straight services. "I don't often attend actual services," said one office worker last week, "but I sometimes go into a church on my way back from lunch for a sort of peaceful think. After all, I never go to church on Sunday--there's too much to do--and a few minutes of quiet do seem to help somehow."

In addition to their lunch-hour activities, the City's 16 Guild Churches have each developed a specialty. St. Stephen, Walbrook, specializes in rescuing would-be suicides; with a staff of seven and 200-part-time volunteers, it handles more than 100 calls for help a week. St. Mary Aldermary gives advice on religious retreats; St. Martin, Ludgate, specializes in marriage counseling, and the tiny church of St. Ethelburga concentrates on the ministry of healing.

Work in the Square. Some are connected with organizations: St. Botolph, Aldersgate, speaks for the Church of England Men's Society, St. Andrew-by-the-Wardrobe is the church of the British and Foreign Bible Society and the meeting place for returning missionaries; St. Dunstan-in-the-West is linked to the Church Council on Foreign Relations. One of the most popular of all is St. Sepulchre, known as the musicians' church, which specializes in church music, holds recitals three times a week and a grandiose service on St. Cecilia's Day with choir and orchestra. St. Bride, Fleet Street, is the journalists' church; St. Mary Abchurch specializes in intellectuals, conducts discussion groups on such subjects as the relation of the Trinity to existentialism.

"Guild Churches seem to attract rather colorful people and give them an opportunity to experiment in a rather colorful way," says Pastor Wallbank. "There is more exciting and varied work going on in one square mile of the City of London today than anywhere else in the church."

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