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Most of central London’s big churches are so full of tourists that when I want some quiet time during the day to pray, I head to somewhere some might think decidedly secular - the National Gallery in Trafalgar Square. Interestingly, people these days keep much quieter in art galleries than they do in churches. There’s an impressive respectful hush, as people concentrate on the artworks and the privilege of being in the presence of such beauty. My favourite spot at the National Gallery is on the bench conveniently placed in front of Caravaggio’s masterpiece ‘The Supper at Emmaus.’ It illustrates the story of two disciples walking along depressed after Jesus’ crucifixion. A stranger joined them and his conversation lifted their spirits, so they asked him to come for supper at an inn. The painting shows the two disciples at table with the stranger and the landlord serving their meal. The moment depicted is when the stranger takes the bread and blesses it; in that instant the disciples recognised that the stranger is Jesus. One is about to leap from his chair in shock, the other spreads his arms wide in surprise.Ìý A basket of fruit, perched on the edge of the table, looks set to fall. Centre stage, Jesus sits serene. I love the details: the ripped jacket of one poor disciple; the sceptical look of the landlord still seen in pubs all round the country.Ìý But there’s more to this painting than meets the eye. The viewer becomes another person at the table. The sheer beauty of the scene invites us to step in and sit down with Jesus.

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So if you visit the Making Colour exhibition at the National Gallery you may see a middle-aged clergyman, sitting on a bench, staring at this painting.Ìý And he’s thinking, ‘sitting here, away from the noisy churches, I can almost see God….’