A new Jesus and Mo!

It’s been yonks since we’ve seen a new Jesus and Mo strip, but there’s one today called “ravers“. The email that came with the link said this, “Back from holiday, so here’s a new one. The sharif won’t like it.”

And, indeed, according to the BBC (archived link), St. Paul’s is partnering with a nightclub, though they deny they’re having a “rave in the nave”:

St Paul’s Cathedral has signed a four-year deal with the London nightclub Fabric to stage music events inside the building.

Under the partnership, Fabric will be the cathedral’s exclusive partner for such events until 2030. The first concert is due to take place on 29 October, although the artist has not been announced.

Fabric co-founder Cameron Leslie called the deal “an extraordinary and unexpected coming together of two very different parts of London”.

Sandra Lynes Timbrell, the cathedral’s director of visitor engagement, said she hoped a “carefully curated programme of exceptional concerts” would draw people who had not visited before.

“These events showcase world-class talent and create unforgettable experiences for audiences within one of London’s most iconic spaces,” she said.

. . . The organisers said the programme would feature artists “from different musical backgrounds and disciplines whose work responds to the Cathedral’s distinctive atmosphere, acoustics and architectural heritage”.

St Paul’s has previously held concerts by the artists RY X in 2024 and Patti Smith in 2025.

. . . Fabric, in Farringdon, had its licence revoked in 2016 after Islington Council found what it described as a culture of drug use at the venue.

The venue reopened in January 2017 after agreeing new licensing conditions with the council and the Metropolitan Police, including a higher minimum entry age and tighter security.

Hallelujah!  I suppose this is a way to boost the waning Anglican church attendance in England, with the programs designed to “draw people who had not visited before.” But I can’t help thinking that Christopher Wren would be fretting and whirling in his grave.

And of course Mo, as usual, dispenses advice he’s unwilling to take himself.