It's a Big Church, Ve-ry Big Church, It's a Big Church We're In-n...

One of the highlights of York was its cathedral, the York Minster. We were quite distracted by it. On our way to somewhere else we went to walk past it but then spent about 1/2 hour just looking at one side of it and kept discovering things about it. Apart from anything, we were dumbstruck at its sheer size. We tried valiantly to capture a sense of its size on camera, but it is impossible to do it justice. It just goes on and on and when you get a sense of its height, you look at its width and are similarly confounded. Apparently they set out to build a big cathedral, and you can tell they must have got the mission statement right, because they got a big cathedral. Even Carlton Draught would be impressed.


What is amazing is that we were engrossed, and we've seen highrises. This is a cathedral that was built when many people lived in small one room homes (in which that one room included even the kitchen). It must have been immense to their eyes. In a time when houses didn't have glass, the cathedral has the largest expanse of medieval stained glass in the world.



The sheer size is a political statement - it is a testimony to the Archbishop of York's desire to be seen to be able to 'play with the big guys' and have his building bigger than the Archbishop of Canterbury's (Canterbury and York are first and second in the Church of England food chain). But it's also a theological statement. For medievals, this really was the house of God in some sense. And the sheer, over-the-top size impresses on you that God is A Big Deal. (The fact that it also impresses on you that his servant, the Archbishop is A Big Deal, we'll charitably put down to a fringe benefit). But this building took centuries of construction to make a point about the importance and glory of God. (Whether that's a good way to go about trying to make that point,we'll leave to one side. Let's not ruin the moment.)



As if the sheer size isn't enough, the building is covered with intricate artwork. Small gargoyles, a patterning under one of the door frames which details some of the key events of Genesis until about chapter 21, larger statues of people: the designs are carefully and beautifully executed. These we found mesmerising. There we stood: straining to see them, trying to work out what they are, getting very excited when we worked out what something must be because of the symbolism - we were two very engrossed colonials. You'd think we'd never seen a 148 metre long medieval cathedral with three 60m tall towers before!



The next day we came back and did the 'tour' inside. We found the inside still more dazzling. Of particular interest were the sculptures of the kings of England which sat under the organ. Clearly these were done after the kings were dead or those doing the sculptures would have found that kings do not (on the whole) appreciate candid shots or sculptures of themselves. Unless these kings were particularly relaxed about how cranky or clueless they looked, which frankly I find hard to believe (you'll need to click on the picture to see what I mean...).



So much more could be said! The corridors of tombs were fascinating and will get their own post; the ceiling was extraordinary in its height and decoration. We discovered that the cathedral was built on the site of an old Roman fort, and was actually the culmination of a series of cathedrals, the first built by the Saxons, then the Normans until finally the medievals built the finished product, taking a cool 300 years to finish it. (Obviously the mission statement didn't include a clause about timeliness).



But the thing that struck me as we walked through this and glutted ourselves on its beauty was that it was essentially a large open space. A remarkable large open space with an extraordinary ceiling, but at the end of the day it is a place for people to come together and hear what God has to say to them and talk to him in prayer. This is hard to miss, because although the cathedral is decorated all along its outside and inside walls, although the ceilings are awe-inspiring and there are all kinds of interesting memorials or tombs along the walls of other parts of it, apart from chairs there is nothing in the building. It's essentially empty. If you were a thief and inclined to steal things, there would be little to steal. Sure, there are some ceremonial cups and a few platters and candlesticks you might pilfer. But on the whole the only thing to steal would be some chairs (unless you were particularly enterprising and climbed the walls to steal a few gargoyles, but where you would sell these remains uncertain. I suppose you could be eccentric and collect them, a kind of mediaeval equivalent of pinching gnomes from people's gardens...).




For all its majesty, the cathedral reinforced for me that Christianity is all about relationships that you can't see: a relationship with Jesus and our relationships with each other. And going to church is about nurturing those relationships, so all you need is an open space, the roof is optional though handy for places like England where it rains a lot, and chairs are useful.

We were suitably impressed by York Minster, being colonials and all. And reminded again that there isn't much furniture in churches for a good reason. JMB

Please note: This blog does not in any way endorse theft from cathedrals, nor the pilfering of garden gnomes.