Dreaming spires
I went to a talk last night by Christopher Lewis, Dean of Christ Church, Oxford about cathedrals. Christ Church is unique in being both a cathedral and a college chapel and the Dean has edited a book called "Flagships of the Spirit: Cathedrals in Society" and he was speaking about how cathedrals are viewed by people and what their role should be in society. He began by listing the negative views, which began early, for example, St. Bernard in the twelfth century who described them as "foolish extravagances". Nowadays many people view them with suspicion as they often seem self-justifying by virtue of their size and wealth and can be remote and frightening. From a theological viewpoint there seems little reason to have them as the New Testament refers to the destruction of the temple and has 96 references to the idea of the church ranging from a field to a vine and the bride of Christ. Cathedrals are symbols of power of a bygone age, a sentiment which would have been appreciated by the Saxons of Winchester who moved their minster outside the city walls when William the Conqueror started on the cathedral. He went on to cite the good points: their accessibility, their role in a diocese, the regularity of the services, the high quality of the music, the architecture and art whose beauty and space can convey a sense of the divine. He believes that there are 3 questions which a cathedral needs to be able to answer to see whether it is fulfilling its role in modern society: how easy is it for somebody in real distress to get help, how wide are its boundaries and how would it cope with a demonstration?
I smiled when I heard the last question, remembering a service I attended a few years ago in the cathedral in Washington DC. The congregation had been infiltrated with anti-Iraq war demonstrators who kept shouting out "Stop the war!" in the middle of the lessons and prayers, in spite of the clergy saying that the service was not an appropriate forum to demonstrate in and that the church's views could be read on its website. In the end, black policeman picked off the demonstrators one by one, handcuffed them and dragged them out during the sermon amidst cries of "I shall not be evicted from God's house during the homily!" It was the most dramatic service I have ever attended.
4 Comments:
Well, it is tempting to pop over to Winchester this Sunday to spice up proceedings by protesting about the evils of 'global capitalism' - but I suspect the 'Whisperer' would put me in my place by saying 'But you worked for a large multinational bank for over 18 years - can you not see the 'beam in your own eye', man ?
I love cathedrals and I think you make some important points about how welcoming they are. Personally I think they are more inviting than smaller churches. Often they are warmer due to the amount of stained glass and number of windows to let the sun in. Bath Abbey seems to have no problem with people drifting in and taking time for personal reflection.
That said, I went for years without drifting into Bristol Cathedral but found it quite welcoming when I did go in - they even had an art show put on by local students. St. Mary Redcliffe appears less inviting, if only because of where it is sited - near a busy traffic roundabout, and set quite high up. I did go there for a carol service put on by Cancer Research UK. It did seem a little dark and forbidding - guess the test is how easy someone who is needing solace would find it to approach the people there. Would they be put off by a 'middle class' customer base for our cathedrals?
I feel that if one bumped into Dr John Sentamu on a trip to York Minster one could easily engage him in a chat, and that he, or one of his team, would be quite happy to offer help and advice to someone who, say, was bereaved and needed someone to talk to. I suspect that they do more outreach up there as well, from what I've seen on telly.
Smaller churches don't have the infrastructure of a coffee shop, people on hand all day, and regular visitors. My sister's church in Cardiff tried to address this by rebuilding much of the back of the church to contain office space and conference rooms for things like 'alpha' courses. This was very costly in time and resources, but has been very effective. Many small churches simply don't have the cash .
Maybe cathedrals need to utilise the 'tourist' draw to their benefit - people could mingle round on a Sunday morning and the vicar could say from the pulpit - why not pop round to our coffee shop cybercafe where in 10 minutes you can watch a webcast of my sermon, or download it to your ipod to listen as you wander around...
Maybe I'm not the best to judge on this in any case. I went for a day out to Wells with my father. When we got there we looked for the cathedral. When we found it we did think it was rather disappointing, but we did have a quick look round.
"Not much to see" we thought, so decided to look for a good tea shop. After a bit of a search we turned a corner and, "WoW!" - Ah, so THAT'S the cathedral...Not sure what the name of the church we had been in was, as I clearly didn't pay that much attention.
I've long thought services should be enlivened - how about a clap for a good sermon, or a boo for a boring one?
Many years ago at school,I used to have to read the lesson from time to time.Needless to say, it was a chore and a mumbled race to get to the end before sitting down again. One day, I had some verses, amongst which appears "... And know that I am God."
I persuaded some friends to bet me I would not give it some real welly. It was a Sunday service, so not only were there masters and their wives, there were real people in the congregation as well. So I lifted up my voice and gave the whole passage a real belting, and virtually yelled at the top of my voice " AND! KNOW! THAT! I! AM! GOD!!!". There was a deadly hush as I shut the Bible, but as I started back to my seat with an entire chapel of astonished faces, a drubbing of feet on the wooden floors began. By the time I sat down it was deafening - and stopped in perfect time to my bottom hitting the bench. Magic.
kinglear - I can't top that, but it does remind me of having to read the very large Bible that would be in the pulpit, not those feeble 'portable' ones. It does give a sense that the words are very important. Especially when it is the 'King James' version.
Or in my case the 1588 Bishop William Morgan Welsh version. The modern translations purport to be more intelligible, but the old language often conveys more of the meaning, even if one has to take a bit longer to read all the 'Thees' and 'Thous'.
anon - yes I like the old versions too - it seems to me that our forebears made it sound serious and important, whilst the present translations are - and please forgive me - touchy feeley and namby pamby. I don't think God is like that. He's a serious chap who weighs matters judiciously.
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