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We offer daily services and a cultural programme of talks, events and concerts. We seek to be a welcoming space for people to reflect, create and debate
From Sun 6 to 27 April
Breastplate will be displayed behind the altar of the Side Chapel and lit from below so that it glows from within, thereby revealing its feather-filled fragility and the talismanic contents of its pockets.
St James’s hosts inclusive services and a cultural programme. We seek to be a welcoming space for people to reflect, create and debate.
St James’s is a place to explore, reflect, pray, and support all who are in need. We are a Church of England parish in the Anglican Communion.
We host a year-round creative programme encompassing music, visual art and spoken word.
We offer hospitality to people going through homelessness and speak out on issues of injustice, especially concerning refugees, asylum, racial justice, and LGBTQ+ issues.
St James’s strives to advocate for earth justice and to develop deeper connections with nature.
We aspire to be a home where everyone can belong. We’re known locally and globally for our unique history and beauty, as well as faith in action, creativity and the arts, and a commitment to social and environmental justice.
We strive to be a Eucharist-centred, diverse and inclusive Christian community promoting life in abundance, wellbeing and dignity for all.
St James’s Piccadilly has been at the heart of its community since 1684. We invite you to play your part in securing this historic place for generations to come.
The work of St James’s, it costs us £5,000 per day to enable us to keep our doors open to all who need us.
A reimagined St James’s realised. A redesigned garden, courtyard and new building capacity—all fully accessible— will provide beautiful spaces for all as well as improving our environmental performance.
Whether shooting a blockbuster TV series or creating a unique corporate event, every hire at St James’s helps our works within the community.
St James's Church 197 Piccadilly London W1J 9LL
Directions on Google Maps
George Bacon, a congregation member who is also a musician and St James’s social outreach volunteer, reflects on Lent, contemplation, and faith.
I was raised by my devoutly Catholic mother, and so a seed of faith was planted in me at an early age. By the time I was of an age to receive my First Communion, around 8 I think, Lent had become a thing.
My first Lenten memories were all about giving up something I liked for the duration. For a few years this was sweets, although unaccountably we were given the day off on Sundays, and so once a week could indulge ourselves. As a hedonistic child, Lent seemed a miserable, penitent season, leading up to the horror of the Good Friday accounts. Two days later, Easter Sunday set us all free in the company of chocolate eggs, rabbits and lambs. I didn’t look forward to it, and was glad when it was all over.
By my mid teens, the church as I had experienced it held a dwindling appeal, and once I got out of Catholic boarding school, I stopped going to church altogether, except if I happened to be with my mother on a Sunday. I knew how much it meant to her to have me go with her, so I endured it. This continued till around the time I turned 50, although I never lost a sense of God somehow.
One morning I woke up with a new sense of purpose and went out and bought a Bible. Within weeks I had picked up where I had left off, and found myself going to Catholic mass once more.
So Lent became a thing again, and I resumed the giving up model, and variously denied myself booze, caffeine, and other semi vices. As a child, I had derived some satisfaction from ‘doing the right thing’ alongside my peers. Now though, satisfaction quickly wore thin, and I found myself questioning the value of it all. Certainly there were physical health and clear thinking benefits, and I presumed God would be glad I was displaying a better version of myself. But it all felt a bit self centred.
By this time though I had finally taken to heart the notion that I was on a journey whose fundamental purpose was to establish and develop a real relationship with our loving God.
God knows me intimately, inside and out, I believe, and loves me as I am. The least I can do is begin responding in kind.
Around 14 years ago, having been introduced to Richard Rohr and his pals at the Center for Action & Contemplation, I was inspired to begin a contemplative practice called Centering Prayer which continues to this day. Though I remain very much a beginner, I have been blessed with occasional glimpses of an ultimate reality connecting us all, a real sense of God’s presence, albeit fleeting.
I am a musician and have spent much of my adult life travelling around playing music to anyone prepared to listen. This slightly rootless existence lends itself to a tendency to party more frequently and intensely than might be healthy! It is an occupational hazard, and hard to resist.
What I discovered when I picked up the Lenten self denial habit again, was that in fact even 40 days of a simple, uncluttered daily life lent itself to a more consistent sense of the mysterious presence of our loving God.
I came to realise that Lent could be a season of deep refreshment, of turning more resolutely to God, and not only reviewing bad habits, but taking up and developing good, new ones.
Which brings me to Mardi Gras! A ritual that is enjoyed to this day in many Christian cultures, it is surely an extravagant last hurrah, beyond which parties of any kind are not planned for the next 40 days….not unlike “..eat, drink and be merry…for tomorrow we die!..”
England is not one of those cultures. Tossing pancakes seems the extent of our wild abandon. In my travels I have been fortunate enough to find myself amongst cultures where the tradition is a good deal more active, and of course, music has always been a big part of any good party, so I have numerous times been employed with some musical pals to provide a suitable soundtrack.
These days I tend to look for a good new habit to try, and maybe even stick with beyond Lent. Much of it is small things rather than any grand projects. Tweaking my routines, working on being more present, staying alert to opportunities to help someone….
I have twice during Lent, and once during Advent, become a temporary hermit, withdrawing for that time from almost all social interaction, living simply and prayerfully. Each time was challenging but rewarding.
I leave you with links to a couple of my songs that you might enjoy, With You, and Walk Me Home.
Easter is late this year. I’ve been getting a little impatient for Lent to begin! Each year it feels more like a fresh beginning. In this hemisphere it does coincide with spring after all. Wishing us all a rejuvenating, quiet and peaceful time.
