What makes a church beautiful?

I've been visiting some of the local churches, particularly the ones I've never been to before. I'm confined to the immediate area at the moment because of bike issues, but there are still beautiful places to pray ...

So here's a question: what makes a place beautiful and conducive to prayer? I was thinking about this when I called in at St Peter's in Horninghold, a lovely looking little church in a picture perfect English village. The first thing that struck me going in was dilapidation. Like so many rural English churches there's problems with damp, with flaking paint, with bats (we all love bats, but their droppings - not so much), with woodwork in poor repair. It makes them feel unloved.

But that's not always an accurate impression. Yes, St Peter's was in a bad way: the plaster falling from the chancel ceiling is so bad they've had to block that part of the church off and put up warning signs. But there were other, more subtle, signs of life and love. A welcome notice in the porch apologising for the decay but inviting people in anyway. An open, unlocked door. A visitors book with lots of recent entries. And - my favourite - instead of a donations box by the door, the little sparkly box in the photo with a pile of post-its inviting prayer requests. It all said: come in; it's a mess here, but we're glad to see you, and we'd be glad to pray with you. 

Which was beautiful. 

I stayed for a while. Looked around, which didn't take long, although it was a surprise to discover a Knights Templar tombstone at the back. And I prayed, for a good while, including some prayers for this little praying church.

///will.initiated.perfectly