On Sunday we traveled from Oxford to Canterbury. The ride was considerably longer than the ride to bath the day before. Whereas that ride was an hour and a half long, this one was an hour longer. While we rode in the bus, I had my quiet time. I started reading through the book of John while I was listening to David Crowder Band, and I remember a particular passage clearly. In John chapter one, verses forty-seven to fifty one, Jesus shouts to Nathanael, “Behold an Israelite indeed, in whom there is no deceit!” As I read these words with David Crowder singing passionate praise to a loving God, I could imagine how Nathanael reacted to so high a compliment from someone he doesn’t know. I could see him stop dead as his heart skipped a beat and asked the question, not knowing where the answer will lead him, “How do you know me?” As Jesus told Nathanael that He saw Nathanael before Philip told him to come see Jesus where Jesus could not possibly, physically see Jesus, I could imagine the devotion that Nathanael felt for this man in front of him as he said, “Rabbi, You are the Son of God, You are the King of Israel.” I could feel Nathaneal’s elation as his hopes for a savior were answered, his comfort in having that security, and his joy of praising a God who had answered those prayers. I could feel these things because I have all of them as well through Jesus Christ’s presence in my life, and as I listened to the praise music in my ears, I used it as a conduit for my feelings.
Soon we were at Canterbury. We toured a little bit, and we looked at a few of the places that the Normans had built in their conquest of the Saxons. Kimberly, Alyse, Jessie, Leland, Hayes, and I ate lunch in The Three Tuns Inn, a hotel that boasts to have been in business since the fifteenth century. After this, we made our way to the Christ Church Cathedral that is the main attraction of Canterbury.
On the outside the building loomed tremendously over our heads, and it seemed to take in the whole skyline. As we toured the cathedral, I realized that it really was fourteen hundred years old. The age of the place caused me to pause and reflect. I had never been in anything that old. My country is not as old as this cathedral. After my reflection I began to really see the building. It is beautiful and august. The ceiling goes up for many stories, and the vibrant stained glass windows seemed to take up the whole of the wall space. As I realized that this building is dedicated to the worship of God, of Jesus Christ, my heart soared, but it was checked by the remembrance of how much blood had been shed over this church. In fact, it became famous because Thomas รก Becket, the Archbishop of Canterbury at the time, was martyred in it over a dispute about the coronation of the prince in line to be king. I began to ask myself what was the motivation for the building of this cathedral. Did the builders earnestly wish to worship God with all of their mind, body, and strength, or was there some other motivation behind it?
We made our way to the inner sanctuary to hear the Evensong service. I wished to hear the service greatly because it would take place in a building that had been used to worship God for nearly a millennia, but I did not expect a moving service. I had never been to an Anglican service, or a Catholic one for that matter, but from what I had heard and understood they were filled with formality and rituals but not passion. At first, my assumptions were proven right. The service leaders filed in with a cross bearer followed by two candle bearers, who were then followed by the choir, and the clergy brought up the rear with the lead minister, I’m not sure what his title is, lead by his own cross bearer. After the procession took their places, they all bowed to the cross at the altar. (Before they started the service, they were kind enough to welcome the students from Wofford College and to invite us to worship with them.) However, after this small justification to my beliefs, the rest of my assumptions were dashed to bits with the beginning of the service. A clergyman would say a line in a liturgy and the choir would answer. This went on for a while, and then the choir would sing a song. I could see how those people who had told me of the Anglican Church’s formality would see it that way, but you have to look beyond that. You have to hear the passion in their strong, beautiful voices. The songs were moving, loud, and glorious. You have to look at the faces of the choir members as they smile in the joy that their God has given them. After a small boy has given a particularly good solo, you have to look at the choir leader as he gives a secret smile and a wink to the child to encourage and congratulate him. Once you see all that, the passion of the Anglican Church is doubtless.
To drive the point home, a clergyman walked to the podium and began to read the very same verses about Nathanael and Jesus that I had read that morning. As I recalled what I had felt after reading these verses, I heard the passionate choir voice those same feelings to the very tall rafters of that magnificent cathedral. I realized that they are just as passionate about their faith and their God as our modern day praise bands are. I began to think of how I could implement in my life efforts towards the unification of Christian denominations since we should be unified by our very faith, and, of course, the clergyman prays for just that same thing as he tells us it is the church’s week of reminding towards that effort. As I took in the lesson that was being given to me, I remembered my earlier misgivings about the motivation behind the construction and use of the cathedral. As I walked out of the cathedral, I realized that we are all fallen humans who make mistakes, but we strive towards the just worship of our loving God the best that we know how.
-Posted by Will Prosser
Soon we were at Canterbury. We toured a little bit, and we looked at a few of the places that the Normans had built in their conquest of the Saxons. Kimberly, Alyse, Jessie, Leland, Hayes, and I ate lunch in The Three Tuns Inn, a hotel that boasts to have been in business since the fifteenth century. After this, we made our way to the Christ Church Cathedral that is the main attraction of Canterbury.
On the outside the building loomed tremendously over our heads, and it seemed to take in the whole skyline. As we toured the cathedral, I realized that it really was fourteen hundred years old. The age of the place caused me to pause and reflect. I had never been in anything that old. My country is not as old as this cathedral. After my reflection I began to really see the building. It is beautiful and august. The ceiling goes up for many stories, and the vibrant stained glass windows seemed to take up the whole of the wall space. As I realized that this building is dedicated to the worship of God, of Jesus Christ, my heart soared, but it was checked by the remembrance of how much blood had been shed over this church. In fact, it became famous because Thomas รก Becket, the Archbishop of Canterbury at the time, was martyred in it over a dispute about the coronation of the prince in line to be king. I began to ask myself what was the motivation for the building of this cathedral. Did the builders earnestly wish to worship God with all of their mind, body, and strength, or was there some other motivation behind it?
We made our way to the inner sanctuary to hear the Evensong service. I wished to hear the service greatly because it would take place in a building that had been used to worship God for nearly a millennia, but I did not expect a moving service. I had never been to an Anglican service, or a Catholic one for that matter, but from what I had heard and understood they were filled with formality and rituals but not passion. At first, my assumptions were proven right. The service leaders filed in with a cross bearer followed by two candle bearers, who were then followed by the choir, and the clergy brought up the rear with the lead minister, I’m not sure what his title is, lead by his own cross bearer. After the procession took their places, they all bowed to the cross at the altar. (Before they started the service, they were kind enough to welcome the students from Wofford College and to invite us to worship with them.) However, after this small justification to my beliefs, the rest of my assumptions were dashed to bits with the beginning of the service. A clergyman would say a line in a liturgy and the choir would answer. This went on for a while, and then the choir would sing a song. I could see how those people who had told me of the Anglican Church’s formality would see it that way, but you have to look beyond that. You have to hear the passion in their strong, beautiful voices. The songs were moving, loud, and glorious. You have to look at the faces of the choir members as they smile in the joy that their God has given them. After a small boy has given a particularly good solo, you have to look at the choir leader as he gives a secret smile and a wink to the child to encourage and congratulate him. Once you see all that, the passion of the Anglican Church is doubtless.
To drive the point home, a clergyman walked to the podium and began to read the very same verses about Nathanael and Jesus that I had read that morning. As I recalled what I had felt after reading these verses, I heard the passionate choir voice those same feelings to the very tall rafters of that magnificent cathedral. I realized that they are just as passionate about their faith and their God as our modern day praise bands are. I began to think of how I could implement in my life efforts towards the unification of Christian denominations since we should be unified by our very faith, and, of course, the clergyman prays for just that same thing as he tells us it is the church’s week of reminding towards that effort. As I took in the lesson that was being given to me, I remembered my earlier misgivings about the motivation behind the construction and use of the cathedral. As I walked out of the cathedral, I realized that we are all fallen humans who make mistakes, but we strive towards the just worship of our loving God the best that we know how.-Posted by Will Prosser
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