Mystery Worshipper: Cool Dude
Church:
St Luke’s, Charlton
Location: London, England
Date of visit: Sunday, 11 May 2025, 10:00am
The building
The present church was built in 1630, a most inauspicious moments for the Church of England. King Charles I was pushing his divine right to rule absolutely against the opposition of parliament, a turmoil that finally led to his public execution at his own palace. Archbishop of Canterbury William Laud’s Star Chamber was censored books it regarded as seditious, and dishing out deliberately sadistic punishments to dissenters if they challenged the king’s prerogative. The Archbishop too was to lose his head on the executioner’s block. The village of Charlton only got a new church in this turbulent time because the wealthy Sir William Newton, who lived locally, left a bequest for its construction. Built of brick on the site of a tiny earlier church, it has a sturdy tower and various later extensions. Inside, it is whitened and has mostly round arches, in a primitive classical manner, and a large number of monuments on the walls.
The church
St Luke’s is part of the Charlton benefice, which comprises three churches. The church has a lively (though difficult to navigate) website with a number of activities across the three churches. It lays emphasis on its inclusive welcome. There are midweek services (though not necessarily at St Luke’s), and on Sunday online only compline at 9pm. Two weeks before I visited, the London Marathon ran right past the church. The marathon has grown to become a huge event with 56,000 runners crossing the finishing line. St Luke’s offered roadside blessings from a vested priest by sprinkling any of the runners who wished for it, while the church bells played the theme from Chariots of Fire. The church owns a cardiac defibrillator which was on duty; whether it was called on during the marathon was not stated.
The neighborhood
The church sits on a steep hill, tucked away in its small churchyard behind yew trees. It once had a commanding view across the Thames estuary towards central London and until the 19th century there was little but five miles of low-lying marshy land between the church and the capital city. Today, tall and particularly bleak blocks of flats obstruct the view, though I was told by someone after the service that you can still get the view if you climb to the top of the church tower. The vestiges of the high street of Charlton Village are adjacent to St Luke’s – today a parade of shops – but the wider neighbourhood is densely urban and features large areas of post-war social housing schemes and a multi-ethnic population. The bulky stadium of Charlton Athletic Football Club is just down the hill.
The cast
The assistant priest presided, a minister of the word kept things moving, members of the congregation read intercessions and readings, and someone played the electric piano. The fact that the minister of the word kept things going made for fuller congregational engagement than is common in Anglican churches, with the priest limited to unambiguously priestly functions: absolution, blessing, preaching and consecration of the eucharist.
What was the name of the service?
Sung Eucharist.How full was the building?
About 30 when the priest processed in, but latecomers increased that to 45, which made the small church seem comfortably occupied. We were ethnically diverse but mostly over 45. We were told that the monthly all-age service was taking place at the sister church in the benefice, and that families and children were therefore at that church this morning. The implication was that there would normally have been higher attendance at St Luke’s.
Did anyone welcome you personally?
An elderly lady said hello to me as she carefully managed the bumpy path outside the church. A welcomer handed me the hymn book and service booklet, and bade me welcome with a smile. Beyond her, a man who was preparing coffee and biscuits welcomed me a third time. They obviously look out for visitors, so full marks for welcome. I noticed that there were effectively two aisles, each with an altar on which were lit candles, so I asked the coffee gent where it was best to sit. He invited me to sit where I liked, but it seemed those in the north aisle would not see the altar or preacher very well, so I asked why more people were sitting there than in the nave. He said with a chuckle that they were ‘left-siders’. It was a joke, I presume, though I thought for a moment that it might be another a new tribe within the Church of England.
Was your pew comfortable?
A Victorian pine pew, and I chose one which had an embroidered cushion. It was comfortable and far firmer than a chair when it came to standing and sitting, which we did quite a lot. There were embroidered kneelers too, but nobody knelt, even the fit and lithe.
How would you describe the pre-service atmosphere?
Very chatty and lively, though the ‘left-siders’ were markedly quieter and some prayed. When the minister of the word made her announcements, we fell immediately silent.
What were the exact opening words of the service?
‘Good morning and welcome to St Luke’s’. She announced herself as minister of the word, listed the readers and intercessors by name, as well as the priest, also by name. Then, during the first hymn, the priest and crucifer processed down the aisle and up the nave.
What books did the congregation use during the service?
The service booklet and Complete Anglican Hymns Old and New. Maybe I have led a sheltered life, but I have not come across this one before. John Bell of the Iona Community and Graham Kendrick seem to have contributed a significant number of the worship songs, but there were some old faves and hymns by the Wesley brothers, too.
What musical instruments were played?
An electric piano. We were told that the lady playing it would be appearing on national television that evening, but it was not clear to me in what capacity.
Did anything distract you?
The wooden pew platform on which all the pews were sitting was rather creaky and made slightly disconcerting squeaky sounds throughout the service.
Was the worship stiff-upper-lip, happy clappy, or what?
A liturgical eucharist with modern words, not all of which I recognised, but broadly Common Worship. We sang parts of the mass, rather feebly I thought. But the bits that were spoken we spoke loud and clear. Perhaps I was not the only one who found the folkish musical setting rambling and a poor fit with the words.
Exactly how long was the sermon?
8 minutes.
On a scale of 1-10, how good was the preacher?
7 — He preached from the pulpit and was clear and free of theological jargon.
In a nutshell, what was the sermon about?
As it was the start of Christian Aid Week, which we were urged to support financially, he linked its work to the raising of Tabitha – in Acts 9:36-43, our reading of the day – and her ministry to widows and the poor.
Which part of the service was like being in heaven?
The sun streaming through the windows of the church as we worshipped.
And which part was like being in... er... the other place?
A handsome classical monument near where I was sitting was to a daughter of the Becher family of Kingston, Jamaica. Could this be the well-known slaving family? I strongly suspected it was (and internet research when I got home confirmed it). The daughter was resident in England, but it seems unthinkable that, by the time of her death in 1822, she didn’t know the source of her family’s wealth. At this point we sang a hymn adapted from Martin Luther King’s ‘I have a dream’ speech which included the lines, ‘We have a dream that one we shall see a world of justice… where sons of slaves and daughters of the free will share the banquet of community.’ So the chill of recognition of sitting under a slaver’s monument was to some extent mitigated.
What happened when you hung around after the service looking lost?
There was no need to loiter and look lonesome, as Mystery Worshippers are instructed to do. Three people recognised me as a newcomer and came to speak to me before I had even left my pew. One gave me a leaflet of the history of the church and the others chatted and encouraged me to stay for coffee. Full marks for newcomer care.
How would you describe the after-service coffee?
In paper cups and served with dark chocolate digestive biscuits at the west end of the church. I am off caffeine but just couldn’t resist a biscuit.
How would you feel about making another visit (where 10 = ecstatic, 0 = terminal)?
7 — It’s right across London for me, so I will need to have a reason to be in the area; otherwise, I would seriously consider worshipping at St Luke’s.
Did the service make you feel glad to be a Christian?
Yes.
What one thing will you remember about all this in seven days' time ?
The warm welcome of the congregation.