Book Shed

I called at Austwick village near Clapham this month. It has a pleasantly apportioned church, a fairly standard nineteenth-century construction. There was little remarkable within, but an unusually good ‘book shed’ without. Inside, one could purchase a whole range of second-hand books from 50 pence to a couple of pounds. I did not see much to do with spiritual things, like Bibles or explanations of the gospel, but plenty of novels and works of factual interest. There is nothing wrong with these, of course. I read novels to distract me from the mundane or contentious aspects of my own life, and factual works are of great use. Yet each one of us has a spirit, an essence which shall endure the grave and outlive the body. Many churches, like most of the population, are like this rather wonderful book shed, sadly neglecting our eternal destinies.