Chester Cathedral

I have been to Chester Cathedral many times but called again on a dreary, November afternoon. I could see no warm glow of lights within, and muttered to myself that it might be closed. It was open, thankfully, and I was ‘encouraged’ to give five pounds to enter. Although rather harsh floodlights and dazzling spotlights were employed within, the darkness was pervasive, the cathedral’s insides making the grey afternoon beyond its walls appear cheerful and bright. 

A little statue of St Werburgh was well illuminated at the far end; how anyone cannot conclude that this is not an idol from a darker time defeats me. Somehow, the little image peering out from its shrine suited well that crepuscular interior.

David Carson, writing in the September issue of the British Church Newspaper, records how cathedral staff came out and bedecked its railings with rainbow bunting in response to his small demonstration at the city’s annual Pride Festival in August. More darkness, this time in the warm and balmy sunshine of a late British summer.

Chester possesses a dark cathedral in a dark time of British history. Its dull glimmer of spirituality neatly blends in to the dull flickers of worldly wisdom all about it. Christ, the Light of the World, provides such a stark contrast to many of the institutions which claim His name.

Remember therefore from whence thou art fallen, and repent, and do the first works; or else I will come unto thee quickly, and will remove thy candlestick out of his place, except thou repent. Revelation 2:5