A few years ago whilst on a weekend in London my wife and I went to a service in St Paul's cathedral. That seemed like a poke in the eye to all that we had been taught over many decades. There was a small congregation, all of whom seemed to know what they were doing al least. we of course didn't. We left before the end. There seemed no more weight in the proceedings than in our hall. We left before the end. Perhaps we missed the good bits.
I any case I can report, there was no lighting bolt from the sky, or impressions of impending doom. There was no rustle of offended angelic wings. Maybe that is being saved up for the imminent, just around the corner moment when fireballs are tossed from heaven at us and that wonderful building. I won't hold my breath.