In Westminster Abbey there is a a room not too far left of the main entrance called “The Chapel of Henry VII”. In this room is a stained glass memorial to the urns beneath it. This is the Innocents’ Corner. This, in many ways, is where the album began.

During our 22 hour stint in London on the way to Bombay, the illustrious Aaron Senseman insisted that we visit the abbey of all abbeys. So there, in arguably the world’s most breathtaking mausolem, we stood like cavemen in a spaceship, trying to wrap our minds around the sanctity of the room. The urns hold the alleged bones of Prince Edward and his little brother who were imprisoned, declared illegitemite, and murdered by their now infamous Uncle Richard III, all before their 10th birthday. In that moment, the eerie reverberations of a boys choir and pipe organ swirled through the eaves and columns of the knave. Every story, every smile, every oppression, every hope I encountered on all the trips for some reason brought me back to that first stop, and its all too tangible model of the gospel: a place that’s quiet but bathed in beautiful music, that’s sad but majestic, a memorial to death but a sounding bell to life abundant. It’s a place forged by the single innocent for the many guilty and untouchable to find rest, peace, and pardon.