Lord God, the one God, the one God we worship,
the God who Muslims call Allah and Jesus called Father:
hallowed be your name!
Look with pity on your wounded children at Finsbury Park,
the very streets where my father first played as a child.
May your kingdom of love and mercy reign there now,
your will be done there by people of all faiths and none.
Wipe away the tears that flood our eyes,
bring those in need the help and bread they need this day.
Forgive us for we too, we all have sinned
and have let a spirit grow that knows neither good nor God.
Do not let us be tempted to repay evil with evil
but deliver us from the terror that is amongst us
by your mighty hand:
for the kingdom, the power and the glory are yours,
now and for ever. Amen.
Seven Sisters Road in 1922 when my family were there.
My grandfather Fred, a scientific instrument maker, lived on Rock Street and then above the Lyons Tea Shop on Seven Sisters Road, where my father Ron was born. Both are a minute’s walk from Finsbury Mosque and the Welfare House is just up the road. Now we are all realising, Christians and Muslims, old residents and new, that these are attacks on us all.