Durham Cathedral
Durham Cathedral was built between the late 11th and early 12th century to house the bodies of St. Cuthbert (634-687 AD) (the evangeliser of Northumbria) and the Venerable Bede (672/3-735 AD). It attests to the importance of the early Benedictine monastic community and is the largest and finest example of Norman architecture in England. The innovative audacity of its vaulting foreshadowed Gothic architecture. The Cathedral lies within the precinct of Durham Castle, first constructed in the late eleventh century under orders of William the Conqueror. The Castle was the stronghold and residence of the Prince-Bishops of Durham, who were given virtual autonomy in return for protecting the northern boundaries of England, and thus held both religious and secular power.
(UNESCO)
Sitting here in the shrine of St. Cuthbert, a place of pilgrimage and honour, the tourists are quieted by the reverence in the air. What makes this place special...? Holy...? The possible remains of a centuries-dead monk, venerable in every sense of the word, but still human and very long gone? I think not - or maybe it is for some - but for most it's more the osmosis of the location: many hundreds of people - monks, priests and laity - have prayed here. They (we) kneel because Bede did, whether or not it was on this actual spot, kneeling in reverence and humility to the Almighty, his maker and ours.
And so I join them. I sit, head bowed in prayer, for myself and for a friend in need of peace.
As the sounds of visitors ebb and flow in the nine chapels surrounding us, I wait. I feel the connection, the continuation of 900 years of worship, and I draw strength - as much from their lingering presence as I do from the Lord Himself - and I am comforted. But why?
Why is God's presence so tangible here, so real? Did I come with an air of expectation, or has this place enveloped me in it's almost-understated grandeur? Wealth built this place - certainly to this level of solid magnificence - and yet there is humility in every stone strike made by the master stone masons and their apprentices who toiled beside them before rising to seniority as the decades of construction passed by. Wealth kept this place going as the Bishop-Princes ruled the sacred and the secular in these northern reaches of England.
And yet today, amidst the somewhat expected and somewhat necessary tourism which maintains its upkeep, this place functions on Christian love, hospitality, acceptance - towards all who step through those doors - whatever, or whoever, draws them here.
My attention turns to a back-packed visitor. Oblivious to the hubbub, he is kneeling with eyes closed and lips murmuring in prayer. Tourists wander around him, carefully avoiding his prostrate feet. What is he saying? To God; and about God, to these casual observers?
Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:6-7
No matter what, seek the Lord; no matter where, no matter who's around or what the circumstances, tell God what you need and thank him for all he has done. How many thousands of people have knelt on this very spot and done just that? And left with a renewed spirit and restored peace?
Maybe that's what lingers here - God's peace - the overflow of peace left behind by those whose trust is in the Lord.
A smidgen extra floating around for those who have yet to understand its worth.
