Canterbury Cathedral

Yestermorning I took the train from Charing Cross to the fair county of Kent. I have previously passed through on my way to the Continent, but this is the first time I went for its own sake. I was heading to the site of the Cathedral and Metropolitan Church of Christ, Canterbury, the spiritual home of worldwide Anglicanism.

From without, it was pleasing (bottom), but I thought Ely, Lincoln and York were more splendid. Internally, however, and it was much more impressive. There was a tremendous beauty about its soaring perpendicular lines. Although there may have been a Roman church on this site, a later the Saxon structure was destroyed by fire, and the Norman one which replaced it with its heavy style, was largely itself replaced when gothic was deemed fashionable. The crypt, which is all that remains of that Norman rebuild has a certain solidity about it, but the ground level’s perpendicular lends it an airy, delicate feel.

Sadly, so ancient a building with such magnificent prospects requires serious maintenance. To counter the effects of weathering and centuries of use, fundraising (which includes my £17 admission fee) is a constant challenge. Even more sadly, the wider denomination of which Canterbury Cathedral is symbol, cannot be fixed with mere money, but it too is crumbling and decaying. The ticket office from which visitors must buy their admission was bedecked with Pride Progress flags, even though current Church doctrine does not recognise same-sex 'marriage'. In the wider nation, Evangelical clergy must compete with truth-denying liberals and saint-worshipping ritualists. The bishops are dreadfully woke and the senior leadership weak. For all its attendant problems, I think the cathedral is in a far healthier state than the ones who own and use it.

Pray for the Church of England. We Protestant Dissenters may have opted out of its prelates' power, but when it finally surrenders to worldliness, our own prospects shall grow even dimmer.