In this article we talk to Jane Preest and Jo Hines about their experience of developing shared silent prayer at St James’s Piccadilly
For Jane Preest and Jo Hines, silence has long been woven into their spiritual lives – not as an absence, but as a presence. Both women trace their openness to silent prayer back to formative, if not always unhappy, school experiences. Jane, the daughter of a priest educated among Anglican nuns, recalls discovering silence almost despite herself. Jo, who spent time at a Quaker school she describes as “grim and ghastly,” nevertheless found that the practice of silence stayed with her long after she left.
Their journeys eventually converged at St James’s Piccadilly, a church Jo first encountered in 2001 and immediately recognised as a place where faith could be explored without coercion or certainty. “I found the place I’d been looking for,” she reflects – a community open to mystery, transcendence, and what she calls “wisdom worth living.”
The practice of shared silence at St James’s emerged during a period of vacancy, when the demands of church administration threatened to overwhelm the spiritual heart of the community. With the help of others, including Revd Lindsay Meader, Jane and Jo began Holding the Silence: a simple rhythm of short biblical and non-biblical readings, followed by extended shared quiet at set points during the day.
What began as a largely individual practice soon became communal. Once a month, a small group gathered in a circle near the altar, sitting together in silence, centred by fragile handmade candleholders and poetry created by artist Sarah Mark. Over time, the practice took root – sustained not by efficiency or popularity, but by a shared sense that something essential was happening.
During lockdown, Holding the Silence moved online. What might have been a temporary adaptation instead revealed unexpected reach. People from across the country – and beyond – began joining regularly, forming what Jo describes as a quiet “diaspora” connected through Zoom and shared stillness. Today, the group meets twice weekly online at noon, following a simple structure: a brief biblical reading, a complementary poem or reflection, and ten minutes of shared silence.
Asked what she seeks in silent prayer, Jane answers simply: “Sometimes I think – just to calm down.” For her, silence creates space for something other than the “busy brain” to take over. Jo echoes this, describing silence as a way of listening – not forcing meaning, but noticing what arises when striving stops. “It always amazes me what bubbles up when you’re not trying to think.”
Both are clear that silence practised together is different from silence alone – and different again online or in church. Sitting in a circle around candles, Jo says, can generate a shared attentiveness that becomes almost tangible. “Something can shift… it becomes something you can almost taste.”
Each session ends with space for reflection. Participants may speak or remain silent, and what is shared can be profound, ordinary, or humorous. Either way, Jane says, people often astonish her. While the group remains relatively small, its impact is significant, fostering connection across distance and deepening relationships within the community.
Sustaining the practice is not without challenge. St James’s is busier than ever, and silence can feel countercultural – even unsettling. Some people find it frightening. Jo is clear that this needs to be acknowledged honestly. Silence, she suggests, is not for everyone, and beginning gently – perhaps with music that fades into quiet – can help people ease into it.
Still, both sense a growing hunger for silence, especially among younger people. In a noisy, crowded world, Holding the Silence remains an act of witness: people sitting together, attentive, unproductive, listening. It is something many are longing for – and something deeply worth holding on to.
If you are also holding silence in your church or if this is something you would like to start and you could do with some support, we would love to hear from you.