It is early evening on 12 December 2024. The City is alive with seasonal buzz.  The Corn Exchange is covered in ribbons and a choir sings outside.  Some people gather to listen on the dry evening. Others dive across the busy streets heading to anticipated seasonal events and socials. I arrive at the back of St Margaret Lothbury.  I need to quickly change into smarter shoes. I have travelled a long way to be here, dashing between buses, trains, tubes. Navigating the seasonal crowd. Others entering the church are adjusting outfits to be smart after similar journeys. They find their space amongst friends and guests quickly. People travel a long way for the Tylers and Bricklayers annual Christmas Carol Service.  It is not to be missed.

 

 

My clumsy logistics are implemented in stark contrast to the congregation and the church.  The Master, Wardens and liverymen are dignified in their robes, chains, medals and other ceremonial attire.  The church sits in serene anticipation in the glowing candlelight and Christmas decorations. St Margarets is an oasis of calm, hidden in plain sight from so many in the City. Someone kindly helps with my bags and I dive into a pew at the back of the church, waving at my guests as I do so.  The lights go off and immediately the service begins. Got there just in the nick of time.  The statues of wisemen stand on the screen away from the nativity – an intentional representation of the outside world so close, yet separate, to the treasure within.

 

Last year was my first time attending the carol service. Like last year, the Lothbury Singers and the organ playing of Richard Townend are brilliant.  I forget the outside world. I marvel at the coordination of the people reading the lessons, bowing, moving effortlessly through the proceedings. The sense of this ceremony happening over hundreds of years is comforting. The sense of the familiar in the turbulence of the world.  The sermon is thought provoking. “Who here is dreading Christmas?” is the question asked to the amassed Company by Dr Jonathan Smith. A timely reminder that not everybody experiences an event in the same way.  I see it makes some uncomfortable – there is a shift in body language, people cough, murmurs of agreement. There is a clear mission for some to spread Christmas cheer this 2024, and for others, the permission to experience Christmas the way they wish to.

 

There is a reminder that this ceremony does change. The Reverend Jeremy Crossley celebrated his final Tylers and Bricklayers Christmas Carol service at this time.  Even with my limited time with the Company, I know that Jeremy will clearly be missed.

 

 

The carol service concludes. I don’t know many people immediately around me and they are welcoming.  The church is warm. I start making my way towards my guests. Again, that sense of familiarity and belonging washes over me.  People who recognise me say hello. I get introduced to new people. Everyone here is sparkling and lovely - Christmas stars all clustered together. We all then head to the Armourers’ Hall.  It’s a short walk up to the top of Coleman Street.  Everyone is chatting. We bring the warm atmosphere of the church with us. 

 

Dinner and drinks are jovial. People continue to shine. The conversation is fascinating and topical, I learn new things, meet even more new people.  We are already talking about upcoming Company events in 2025 where I hope we can spend more time together. What a truly wonderful way to celebrate the seasonal festivities. I hope to see you at the events and then the Carol service in 2025.  Wrapped in that comforting sense of the familiar.

 

Rachel Malpass-Brown - Freeman