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We offer daily services and a cultural programme of talks, events and concerts. We seek to be a welcoming space for people to reflect, create and debate
Thursday 25 December 11am
Celebrate the birth of Christ with choral music and carols. Everyone’s welcome to join our Christmas lunch with all the trimmings, after the service.
Sunday 4 January 6pm
Join us for an intimate evening of music for Epiphany, as voices trace the journey of light and wonder through the winter night.
St James’s hosts inclusive services and a cultural programme. We seek to be a welcoming space for people to reflect, create and debate.
St James’s is a place to explore, reflect, pray, and support all who are in need. We are a Church of England parish in the Anglican Communion.
We host a year-round creative programme encompassing music, visual art and spoken word.
We offer hospitality to people going through homelessness and speak out on issues of injustice, especially concerning refugees, asylum, racial justice, and LGBTQ+ issues.
St James’s strives to advocate for earth justice and to develop deeper connections with nature.
We aim to be a place where you can belong. We have a unique history, and the beauty of our building is widely known. Our community commits to faith in action: social and environmental justice; creativity. and the arts
We strive to be a Eucharist-centred, diverse and inclusive Christian community promoting life in abundance, wellbeing and dignity for all.
St James’s Piccadilly has been at the heart of its community since 1684. We invite you to play your part in securing this historic place for generations to come.
It costs £5,000 each day to keep the doors of St James’s open to all who already need us.
A reimagined St James’s realised. A redesigned garden, courtyard and new building capacity—all fully accessible— will provide beautiful spaces for all as well as improving our environmental performance.
Whether shooting a blockbuster TV series or creating a unique corporate event, every hire at St James’s helps our works within the community.
St James's Church 197 Piccadilly London W1J 9LL
Directions on Google Maps
In this Christmas reflection, the Revd Daniel Norris reflects on the angels of Regent Street as a quiet sign of hope, reminding us that light, compassion, and love can still be born among us even in the midst of darkness.
As Christmas approaches, the angels return to Regent Street, suspended in light above the moving crowds. They hover there quietly, night after night, watching over people hurrying home, lingering, searching, carrying bags, burdens, and unspoken stories. For a moment, even the most familiar street is changed. We look up—and something in us softens.
The Christmas story begins with just such a moment. Angels appear not to those expecting them, but to weary shepherds keeping watch through the long dark hours. Their first words are not instruction or judgement, but reassurance: Do not be afraid. It is a message spoken into fear, into uncertainty, into a world that does not yet know how the story will end.
That message still matters. Many of us come to Christmas carrying grief, exhaustion, or quiet loneliness. Others carry anger at injustice, or anxiety about the future. Christian faith does not deny these realities or rush us past them. It allows us to stand honestly in the darkness and still dare to look for light.
The angels over Regent Street do not banish the night. They shine within it. Their beauty does not depend on who believes in them or why. They simply give light—freely, generously, without asking who deserves it. And in that, they echo the heart of the Christmas story: a love that enters the world without precondition, choosing closeness over power, tenderness over control.
Christmas tells us that the holy is fragile and near. It is found in breath and body, in touch and tears, in the courage to love when love feels risky. God is not distant or exclusive, but present wherever compassion is allowed to be born.
As we pass beneath the angels this week, may we receive their quiet blessing. And may we become something of that light ourselves—lifting one another, making space for the overlooked, choosing kindness when the world feels sharp. For the true miracle of Christmas is not that angels appear above us, but that hope can still be born among us.
