|
|
||
|
|
Hallo again to all.
Meanwhile, every last one of the magnificent old cathedrals in England and Europe is in dire need of maintenance and repairs; there is always a plea for money and a statement of the breathtakingly large sum that is supposedly needed to prevent the grand old building from rotting away to join Rievaulx Abbey in the pantheon of great departed holy buildings. Meanwhile, the lesser buildings such as vicarages, equally beloved if not equally grandiose, have become restaurants or inns, or are quietly and sadly awaiting sale to some wealthy buyer who might turn his vintage prize into a shopping arcade or a museum. Standing in the middle of a pile of rocks that once had been part of a holy building that was the centre of worship for a Christian community is an odd and emotional experience. This patch of grass is on the spot where the godparents stood at a baptism; those yellow weeds are growing where sat the pew from which so many mothers bade a last goodbye to their sons killed in war. It's easy to reconstruct in one's mind the quiet sanctity now lost to flocks of birds and passing airplanes.
Here and there throughout the world there are simple shrines and chapels that are architecturally minimal but in which most observers can more easily feel God's presence. There need be no flying buttresses, stained glass, pipe organs, or carved rood screens. When you return to such a place, especially if you do so at regular intervals, you can almost resume your dialogue with God right where you left off, a bricks-and-mortar bookmark. But when you go for the first time to such a place, you have to work a little harder to resume an on-going dialogue, because the bricks don't know you yet. They will. In past months there have been a few news items about Anglican people who are unhappy with the politics of their national church or their diocese and who want to leave to join a different church. If they were leaving to join a Methodist or or Baptist or Roman Catholic church, the event would hardly warrant news coverage. But when groups of people leave to join some other Anglican-related church, they often want to take their buildings with them. We completely understand why, but we know that when the grieving Benedictine monks of the Mount Calvary Retreat House and Monastery do eventually get new buildings to replace those that just burned down, they will find God there even if the new buildings are more modest. Those monks know that their beloved buildings were not at the centre of their spiritual selves even if their spiritual selves were sometimes at the centre of the buildings. Everyone who is involved in a dispute over church property should think about Mount Calvary and should contemplate the ruins of Rievaulx Abbey. See you next week. If not in this building, then somewhere else. |
 This web site is independent. It is not official in any way. Our editorial staff is private and unaffiliated. Please contact editor@anglicansonline.org about information on this page. ©2008 Society of Archbishop Justus. Please address all spam to press@anglicansonline.org |
