Cathedrals and people, people and cathedrals
/The Rt. Revd. Michael Turnbull Bishop of Rochester delivered this address to the Pilgrims Association at Christ Church College Canterbury on 3rd September 1991. Featured in The Friends of Rochester Cathedral Annual Report for 1992-1993.
I recently visited Lisieux and made straight for the Cathedral. It is fair to say that there were some notices which indicated important pastoral work emanating from the Cathedral.
The building itself gave the impression of a hollow shell. Indeed our footsteps echoed around the empty building some of which was in disrepair and most of which needed a good clean. Adjacent to the Cathedral was the old and impressive Bishop's Palace, now occupied by the Civic Authorities and the Post Office. The overall impression - the Church in the coffin of the past. I then went a mile or so to the vast Basilica built in this century as the Shrine of St. Theresa. To English and Anglican eyes much of it seemed gaudy but there were some very fine modern windows and impressive frescos. It was well lit and signed. It expected and welcomed visitors. The side chapels indicated links with the Roman Catholic community throughout the world and above all there were people.
Some were clearly genuine pilgrims, there to express their faith. In a bell tower there was a modern presentation of missionary and caring work throughout the third world. It was an ordinary summer's day but there were thousands of people, most of them tourists who could not have failed to have been impressed by the bold, dominating position of the shrine and by the concept of the building and the faith which lies behind it. In the Cathedral there was a chapel where the remains of Peter Cauchon, the prosecutor of Joan of Arc, rested. It seemed neglected. In the Basilica, the actual Shrine of St. Theresa, consecrated by The Pope himself, was surrounded by an ever increasing number of candles and lights and by many people, resting in their devotions amidst all the hubbub.
As far as the two buildings were concerned the State, of course, is responsible for the Cathedral but the Church for the Basilica.
I begin in those two buildings in Lisieux because it seems to me that they illustrate the theological, commercial and indeed political presentation of Cathedrals and the impact that they have on people. They can raise our aspirations and hopes and visions, or they can bore us and depress us. It was a French writer in 1942 who said 'he who bears in his heart a Cathedral to be built is already victorious. He who seeks to become sexton of a finished Cathedral is already defeated'. In one sense, if Cathedrals, or church buildings, are to be alive, they will always remain unfinished. There will always be people around who have visions for their development and completion. When we think of a Cathedral as finished, then it probably is, in every possible way. To be alive with possibilities for the future a Cathedral is people. The alternative is to become simply a monument to the past; to a faith which the world has lost.
But people are not really people unless in some way they are relating to one another. The most successful Cathedrals in modern times are not necessarily those who attract the greatest numbers. This is not a criticism of the first division of Canterbury and York, St.
Paul's and Westminster Abbey, for circumstances, which are for practical purposes beyond their control, mean that very large numbers of people visit them. But the publicity which is given to numbers which may well derive from the links which Cathedrals have with tourist authorities do, if we are not careful, provide the wrong kind of criteria for success. It may be too that economic considerations which suggest that the more visitors who come the more money we shall make and, therefore, the more possibilities there are
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of maintaining the fabric, also make us focus on numbers. But the first division Cathedrals in terms of numbers know very well that very large numbers of visitors create their own problems. This is not just in terms of the security and preservation of the building itselt, bu every individual who comes through its doors as a person rather than as a tourist, it cannot tve inineisiasal who comes tirosenits door aeople. Oncea Cathedral fails to recoghue. expect that person to recognise the Cathedral for what it really is.
We know that betonleing be salisted and tutiled, have to have some concept or relationship, of belonging to a community. Sociologists tell us that three ingredients at least are necessary for a recognisable community. The first is a definable place.
Community is more identifiable in a village which has clear boundaries than in a suburba. sprawl. The second ingredient is some kind of common purpose and there is nothing like the threat of the stability of a community to provide a focus of that. Many communities in this part of the world have been threatened by the Rail Link to service the Channel Tunnel Within each community people from all walks of life, whose stability and property are threatened by such proposals, are drawn together in a common purpose. Even a village Vicar discovers a common sympathy in the whole community when the church, which few people may attend Sunday by Sunday, is threatened with collapse. The closure of a school can equally focus this kind of purpose on a community. The third ingredient is some kind of common pattern of life by which the community is enabled to function. In a neighbourhood community patterns of public transport, the hours that the pub is open, what you can buy at the Post Office or village shop, are all focuses of a reliable pattern of life on which the whole community depends. Take one away and the very heart of
community life is threatened.
If these three ingredients of community life - place, purpose and pattern - are essential to community life there are a further two factors by which the individual relates to the community. The first one is that a community, if it is worthwhile, provides an individual with significance. In suburban life social or interest groupings have to be formed in order to provide this significance where community is not identifiable on a geographical basis.
An individual needs to be able to know that he has worth in the sight of others and, therefore, a position in the local sports club, or the Rotary Club, or the Mothers' Union, provides them with the significance and worth that they need and this can only be discovered by an expression of community. The second factor for the individual is the need for solidarity. An individual needs to feel that he belongs to a community which can support him or her but to which they can also make a contribution. There are common factors in any kind of community life which mean that to belong to the group actually gives necessary stability and security to life. So the individual needs significance and solidarity.
There is much more, of course, that can be said about community and the needs of individuals within them but I do believe this is a useful starting point when we consider the way in which religion impinges upon people. In the Anglican tradition this has been recognised by the parochial system. Church life in the community as a whole is not something divorced from it but is woven into the pattern of life which makes community possible. When the parish as an identifiable geographical unit is no longer viable then very strong bonds arise with suburban congregations who are identified with a church building with a very clear and sometimes authoritarian purpose and certainly with a pattern of life of meetings, of worship and of commitment. Thus in this way the individual finds significance and solidarity, and these things are some of the most important vehicles of the gospel.
In times past attempts have been made to build up the ideal God centred community. The Benedictine tradition, on which most of our ancient Cathedrals are built, recognised the Benedictine kadition, on which most hi h Thave been describing which made God over at the centre of everything. I have recently been reading some accounts of Celle
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Christianity where strong religious motivation was not only focussed in enclosed communities but where the whole pattern of life of small village communities were centred around the praise of God and their dependence upon him. Thus some of the most charming and evocative of prayers of the Celtic tradition relate to everyday working life with a recognition of God at the centre of all things. The Benedictine tradition of prayer, scholarship, hospitality and physical work were all essential ingredients of a Christian expression of community.
The successful Cathedral, therefore, is not the one which necessarily attracts the most numbers but one which recognises the need of the many people who visit it to rediscover something of this deep seated need for community which many lost people of the twentieth century so desperately need. Cathedrals have, of course, the advantage of having very clearly defined place and purpose and pattern already there within their lives.
The place is very clearly identifiable - everyone knows where the Cathedral is, it is unmistakable, it is defined by its own walls and precincts. Its purpose from time immemorial has been to worship God by its very presence and by the activity that it enshrines. That may not be as obvious to those who visit it casually, but again in the most successful Cathedrals the fact that worship is at the heart of all that goes on there is made very plain. The regular pattern of life surrounding the Cathedral is also a strongly obvious element of its life. This is emphasised also by the roots of that pattern in history in the sense that whatever else has happened in the City some things have remained virtually unchanged for centuries. It is my belief that when a Cathedral can demonstrate place, purpose and pattern, it is offering something which people desperately need and which may set them on an adventure, or a search, for their own significance and sense of belonging. When a Cathedral begins to do that it is accepting a unique opportunity that it has to say something profound about not only the gospel but the whole of human life itself.
So let us look at the different circles of community life within the Cathedral and discover how we can exhibit and expose, even to the casual visitor, the essence of what they are about.
In the first place there is the team. I would include in this not only the Dean and Chapter, nor even just the full time employees, but all those who are concerned with the day in and day out worship of Cathedral life. It will certainly include those who make the music, look after gift stalls and visitors centres, clean the Cathedral, welcome the visitors and care for the fabric. The danger is that with this rather large team there may within it be different concepts of place, of purpose and pattern. Those who have specific responsibilities - say within the book stall, or gift stall - may be totally unaware of what goes on in other parts of the Cathedral and its precincts. Those who come in to prepare the flowers, or polish the brasses, may never have been to the visitors centre. In other words for the team to be a team everyone within it needs to be able to identify the whole place and not just one corner of it. Equally I believe that those who are responsible for leadership within the whole team need to make clear what the whole purpose of the Cathedral is. It is all too easy for the Chapter to require the accounts of the book stall without recognising that those who work in the book stall need to have a concept of their place within the whole purpose. Selling books may be only part of the role in which a book stall manager finds himself. Perhaps more than anyone else in the Cathedral he comes in contact with the general public and what he says, and how he says it, and what he has for sale will all be saying something about the purpose of the Cathedral. If he is not clear about that purpose other than to sell as many books as possible then there may be serious dislocation within the community of the team. How often, therefore, does the whole team meet together to consider their common purpose? And when it comes to pattern, these patterns may vary within the team because for some it may have simply become a place of work, a sort of
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nine to five location whereas for others it may have become only a place where the day is punctuated by worship. In other words we are looking for a cohesive pattern in which the whole of this central team can be identified.
The second circle of community life within the Cathedral I would want to call the watchers. These are the many anonymous worshippers, together with the frail and the needy who find their way into a Cathedral, and those who perhaps simply pop into the Cathedral on a regular basis for some errand, or for some devotional purpose. How far can these people be regarded as members of a community? Do they have a sense of significance within the Cathedral or does the very size of the Cathedral and its often impersonal nature have the very opposite effect? Do they simply belong to a building or is there a sense of belonging to other people? Do they regard themselves as outsiders and visitors even if they come very often, or are they recognised as users of a Cathedral in a legitimate sense? At the heart of these questions is, of course, a sensitive area of allowing people to have a proper anonymity while, at the same time, encouraging them to know that they belong. One of the quite proper functions of a Cathedral is to allow people to be making their own pilgrimage or expressing their needs at their own pace, in their own time. But every Cathedral needs somebody who has a ministry to watchers and who can help them interpret their pilgrimage so that they might gradually become part of a community. I stress that because it is easy to leave aside those who at first sight seem to have little contribution to make to all our busyness.
The third circle are the occasionals, many of whom are committed Christians within their own parish churches. However, they come to the Cathedral for the great occasions possibly unaware of the community that surrounds the Cathedral and they are often there for diocesan occasions, conscious only of their relationship with the Bishop and perhaps one or two people at the Cathedral. By and large they have little idea of what goes on at a Cathedral or its part in the mission of God. These too need to be able to feel a sense of belonging to the Cathedral and their part in its community life. Some dioceses have established a link between the Cathedral and every parish and Cathedral news finds its way into many parish magazines. Some Cathedrals offer a newsheet which reaches these people. We need to ask ourselves, how, when they come, they identify themselves as being part of Cathedral life even at this kind of distance. I would include in this many members of other Christian traditions. I am conscious that most Cathedrals have the potential of being truly ecumenical centres because the Cathedral, more than any other ecclesiastical building, belongs to the Christian community as a whole and bridges the centuries. In this respect it is probably necessary for Cathedrals to be less rather than more strict about the kind of worship which is possible to construct within a Cathedral tradition.
While it is important for Cathedrals to enshrine all that is best of the Anglican tradition, the history and the space that they represent can often be a very powerful expression of the Christian community beyond denominational boundaries. For this to happen Cathedrals need to be ready to be places of experiment and adventure rather than simply feeling that they must maintain at all costs their own tradition. Cathedrals have the opportunity of breaking down barriers between different Christian traditions and this can be done, even if it means changing statutes to incorporate ecumenical representatives and bodies within the community of Cathedral life. To be able to give such people and their groupings a significance and solidarity in the context of a Cathedral mavbe one of the most helpful contributions to the ecumenical effort that the Church of England can make.
But even within Anglicanism there are many styles and theologies. A Cathedral should be a place where Anglo Catholics, Evangelicals, Charismatics can not only feel at home but also make it their home. The best of each tradition should sometimes be displayed at Cathedral occasions. While Cathedral musical tradition has a particular place in Anglican spirituality and must be maintained, musicians should be ready to be flexible so that good
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modern musical expressions of those traditions are also part of the Cathedral repertoire.
The Cathedral belongs to the Christian community as a whole and music is a very important way in which this can be demonstrated.
The fourth group of people concerns those in the market place. Most Cathedrals are set in the heart of a community. Many different kinds of organisations - artistic, commercial, military, educational, civic - use the Cathedral. Many of them have an innate feeling that the Cathedral is theirs and this needs to be underlined rather than the Cathedral becoming at all defensive about its use. John Habgood, the Archbishop of York, preaching in a city church in 1988 says 'the message of the gospel belongs in the market place, belongs wherever human beings think, and dream, and work, and make judgements, and try to reach out beyond themselves, often not knowing what they seek. God is the word which carries the terrifying weight of all this hope and longing and aspiration'. A Cathedral has the opportunity of being the focus of so much that is good and ambitious in community and regional life. And perhaps more Cathedrals ought to take the opportunities that are there to invite totally secular groupings of people to use the building and emphasise their own community, and perhaps catch something of the strength of community life that the Cathedral exhibits.
The fifth circle is probably the one which concerns the Pilgrims Association most. It is the area of visitors and it is well known to this audience of the ambitions of the Cathedral to turn tourist into visitors and visitors into pilgrims and pilgrims into worshippers, and worshippers into active committed places within church life. We know that visitors are attracted by the space and all its dimensions within the Cathedral building. In this respect I have been impressed by the work of Professor John Hull of the University of Birmingham, who has developed the thinking and practice of the ministry of Cathedrals to the blind.
Touch and hearing centres have been installed in ten Cathedrals and more are in the pipeline. But what is most impressive is what the blind people's apprehension of a Cathedral using models can teach the rest of us. I quote from somebody who has only seen a Cathedral through touching a model. 'As a child toy models portrayed to me ships, planes and animals, but whole buildings were difficult for me to perceive as there were no models with relative scale comparisons. I was delighted, therefore, by the experience of touching the model of this Cathedral. It did much to make the building come alive for me dimensionally. In my mind I am now permanently seated at the West End and the whole before me externally and internally. In an uncanny way that person had begun to appreciate the actual space of a Cathedral that many people who are sighted do not. For many of our visitors a Cathedral is by far the largest building that they have ever been in and they need to appreciate the relationship between the fine detail on which they will often concentrate and the vastness of the space which in itself is an inspiration and a release. Visitors are also attracted by the age of a building. This is not so much history because they will quickly become bored by a guide who is taking them round in a duil historical lecture. But they will be impressed by a tomb or a memorial in which they can relate their own sense of what has gone on in this place hundreds of years before. I believe too that visitors are attracted by religion. For most of them it is a non-involved religion, but if you watch a casual visitor in a Cathedral the things that they will make for are first of all things to do with death - tablets and tombs. They will also be attracted by areas which are quiet and focus on prayer. They will ask themselves perhaps very inarticulately about God and be confronted perhaps for the first time for many years with a place where God is taken seriously. Finally they will be intrigued by the people in the Cathedral who work there, what happens there and what motivates them.
Most preachers will tell you that the two topics from which they get most response even from occasional church goers is when they are preaching about death, or when they are preaching about prayer. There is no doubt that the element of mystery about both these
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subjects together with the fact that both of them are part of their experience makes them vital subjects for a Cathedral minidio
of small children in school
parties and thre
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subjects together with the fact that both of them are part of their experience makes them vital subjects for a Cathedral ministry. I believe this is as true of small children in school parties and through educational centres in Cathedrals as it is for the more adult visitors.
Now if the building and its furnishings say a great deal about these two key subjects, the question arises as to how far we can continue the educational process and the spiritual pilgrimage through the community life which is at the heart of the Cathedral. These must be specific areas where the team as a whole can say and demonstrate from their own witness something of the Christian Faith.
I believe that this understanding also has implications for the practical ways in which we treat visitors and tourists. Routing of Cathedrals for visitors, the signings and the quality of guided tours, all must be geared to a demonstration of the community life within the Cathedral and the things which countless visitors in all Cathedrals have demonstrated is of consumate interest to them.
When I have been talking about a place and purpose and pattern, the heart of community life, I have implied that an educational process is necessary for all the circles of community life which are part of the Cathedral. A visitor is not detached from this community but I believe in a very real sense becomes a part of the community for the period of their visit.
What I have been talking about, therefore, is entry points into community life and into an adventure of Christian exploration. Most Cathedrals thankfully are asking questions and providing some answers about the part that they have to play in the Decade of Evangelism. One of the best definitions of evangelism that I know is that it is discovering what God is doing and seeking to do it with him. Through a Cathedral God is doing many things, through stone, and glass, and art; through music; through worship, liturgy and movement, through education and exhibition and drama. But I do not believe that any of these things will, in themselves, provide entry points unless they are rooted in strong community life which is based on the place, the purpose and the pattern of all that happens in the Cathedral. God is working there and when we discover what he is doing there then we must try to do it with him
The Pilgrims Association is well named, for I hope in your minds it depicts not only a pilgrimage of people who come to visit the Cathedrals and our ministry to them, but it also depicts a pilgrimage in which we are all involved in our use of the Cathedral. The work is never finished and there are always things that we are longing to do. In the real sense as I mentioned it earlier, the Cathedral is never finished. We all have visions of how we can build up this in material terms and in people terms, its continuing life and expanding ministry. These hopes and visions will not become a reality unless we see ourselves as members of a community - given significance for ourselves and the solidarity of belonging to that community. In this way our own pilgrimage of faith will be expanding all the time. And also in that way we shall be making our own increasing contribution to the community life which is the most powerful thing that a Cathedral affords.
The Rt. Rev. Michael Turnbull Bishop of Rochester
The Friends of Rochester Cathedral were founded to help finance the maintenance of the fabric and grounds. The Friends’ annual reports have become a trove of articles on the fabric and history of the cathedral.
Canons, colleagues, volunteers and staff have shared their memories and reflections in many forms over the years.
