'In the face of hate, choose life Manchester, choose life Britain, choose life humanity.'
With these words, the Bishop of Manchester, Rt Revd David Walker, closed his address at last night's Celebration of Ascension Day at St Martin-in-the-Fields and you could have heard a pin drop.
BBC Radio 4 broadcasts the hour-long annual service. Last night it made a fine job of it; changes to the order of service to reflect the Manchester bombing were seamless and appropriate.
Bishop David had already been booked. But he turned out to be the most appropriate speaker.
'This has been a week like no other,' he told the congregation in the packed church.
'I have been asked many times this week whether evil has been visited upon these families and Manchester, and whether my faith has been dented.
'I have told how Jesus embraced pain on the cross,' he said. 'He is the God who knows pain from the inside. His words of consolation are there for all who will turn and hear them.'
Christ, he said had been 'closer' to him in the 'dark' moments of his life, and this was what he had been trying to say to the people of Manchester this week.
He praised the way that the people of Manchester had responded to the bombing. 'Our diversity has helped us to bind together in unity,' he said.
But he warned that the horrific events of Monday would send a long shadow over the lives of those caught up in them. 'The tragedy will go on for many decades,' said Bishop David.
And he called on 'Christians and everyone' to 'shout against' 'fanatics' who wanted to commit further atrocities on British soil.
Ascension Day marks the moment when Jesus ended his earthly ministry and returned to his Father.
A beautiful, thoughtful service was planned with music performed by the Southbank Sinfonia, the Choir of St Martin-in-the-Fields and the BBC Radio 4 Daily Service Singers with St Martin's Voices. They were outstanding.
But before the service was aired live on the BBC, the vicar, Rev Dr Sam Wells, set the tone for the evening.
He thanked everyone for coming. 'There can't have been one of you who didn't think about it,' he said, acknowledging people's concern about being in London in a crowded, public place.
We were all very British about it. But I could feel the tension. I was anxious. I'd normally walk into a service like this and think nothing of my freedom to do so. But the thought, 'What if?' was playing round my head for half the service.
Then the focus on Christ slowly got through to me. And, as I walked home, my mood had changed. Hundreds of people had quietly, reverently affirmed their faith in Christ, affirmed their belief that he was transcendent over horror and that he is with us now, and in the days to come.
That quiet affirmation is the resolution of ordinary people not to be swayed by horror, but to hold on to God's love and steadfastness: things that never change.
