Eat, pray, learn

My greatest spiritual moment this year came in Eton College Chapel. I was there for Evensong with a friend who’s an English master at the school. Suddenly, unexpectedly, the congregation belted out Verdi’s ‘Chorus of the Hebrew Slaves’ — in English. Part of the pleasure came from the shock of hearing 1,300 upper-middle-class schoolboys imitating Hebrew slaves singing a lament about their Babylonian captivity in 500 BC. But it was also the sheer joy of the music in Henry VI’s chapel, a triumph of the Perpendicular Gothic. In quieter moments during the service, I examined the 15th century wall paintings, which are splendid, Flemish-style pictures of miracles of the Virgin Mary. Not every school chapel is like Eton’s, or the chapel at my school, Westminster, which happened to be Westminster Abbey (non-swanks…) But, still, even in an increasingly secular age, the school chapel and regular church services are a crucial part of a British education. The simple reason is that, despite the decline in church attendance, this country remains a largely Christian one, with an established church and the Queen at the head of it.

In an educational system that increasingly consists of endless exams and tightly defined curricula, the spiritual element is in danger of vanishing. The morning ritual of the church service fills that gap. Worship of any sort is a boost to the soul, even if you end up an atheist or, like me, an agnostic. In a way, it’s a childhood version of Pascal’s Wager. This argues that it’s worth believing in God: if he doesn’t exist, you’ll only have missed out on a few pleasures; if he does, you will enjoy an eternity of reward. A similar thing happens with the spiritually-educated child, particularly with one like me who’s been christened and confirmed in the Christian church.