A visit to Bevis Marks Synagogue

in the City of London

The Rector’s Page

Coming into London from East Anglia has one thing in its favour - you end up in the heart of the City. Liverpool Street Station is just a few steps from that part of London which is such an amazing blend of old and new, where seventeenth century churches jostle with the amazing architecture of modern commerce. I find the City a fascinating place in which to wander.

The other week, with an hour or two to spare before meeting a friend for lunch, I found something new: in a courtyard, off the street called Bevis Marks is Britain's oldest surviving Synagogue, dating from 1701 and designed by a Quaker. That Wednesday morning it was open and welcoming to visitors, and I count it one of the "special places" that I will always treasure.

It felt immediately like a place that was much prayed in, and it was clearly a holy place. Sitting there, I was aware of the generations of prosperous merchants and ordinary east-enders who must have come there on the Sabbath, of the immigrants who had come there, strangers in a strange land finding common identity in their Synagogue as they came before the God of Israel. I also felt at home - I knew that in the Ark at one end of the building were kept the Scrolls of the Old Testament Scriptures which are my Scriptures also. A Sanctuary lamp burned before them, exactly like the lamp that burns before the Blessed Sacrament in St Bridget's Lady Chapel - here was a place that was an outward sign of the presence of God. I could joyfully echo Paul's words: "Theirs is the adoption as sons, theirs the divine glory, the covenants, the receiving of the law, the temple worship and the promises. Theirs are the Patriarchs, and from them is traced the human ancestry of the Christ, who is God over all, for ever praised." (Romans 9:4-5)

But I also felt sadness. The Jewish community has suffered much and still suffers. On entering the Synagogue my bag was searched very thoroughly, for in the City people live in fear of terrorist outrages. I was also aware of the legacy of oppression of the Jewish people by so-called Christian believers. Though the sufferings of the last century were the result of avowedly secular regimes, yet they were only able to act as they did because of a long history of Anti-Semitism which Christians have failed to challenge and have often encouraged. I thought of a text from a version of the "Reproaches" in the Good Friday Liturgy, an extended meditation which imagines the Lord speaking as from the Cross: "I grafted you into the tree of my chosen Israel, and you turned on them in persecution. I made you joint heirs with them of my covenants, but you have made them scapegoats for your own guilt."

So, this was also a place of sorrow and penitence.

It was also a place where for me something (or rather, someone) was missing - Jesus Christ. As a Christian I believe that he is indeed the fulfilment of the law and the prophets, he is God's definitive Word. I believe with the writer of the Letter to the Hebrews that, as God once spoke in varied fashion through the prophets, now he has spoken through his Son. (Heb 1:1) He is determinative for my knowledge of God. Sitting there, I had to acknowledge a sense of disconnection - so much that moved me, so much in common, and yet I am one who acknowledges the new covenant and the way of Jesus. Religious dialogue, if it is to be genuine, must recognise not only the points of contact, but also the points of difference. I remember at Theological College a Liberal Rabbi led a moving Quiet Day for us. At the end he spoke honestly of what he had seen and shared and appreciated, our "common ground", but also of what he found strange, the places where we could go, but he could not. In that honesty there was a holy space as much as in the reminders of a shared heritage. So for me, in Bevis Marks Synagogue.

Christians and Jews have a very mixed record in talking to, and trying to understand, one another. We do no one any favours by ignoring the points of difference, but we can grow into a new and deeper respect if we are honest together, and so value all the more the riches we have in common. As a result of my experience at Bevis Marks I have decided to renew my lapsed membership of the Council of Christians and Jews (www.ccj.org.uk) and make a point of more disciplined study and understanding. In doing so I will be enriched in my Christian faith, and perhaps I may just be able to play a small part in the work of reconciliation.

Roger Clarke

June 2007