Ruined Chapel, Penryn Castle

In the grounds of Wales’s Penryn Castle, a fabulous place about which I have already written, are the remains of a medieval chapel. Thought to be dated to the early 1400s and built to serve the castle’s earlier incarnation, it remains now an attractive ruin with various shrubs and climbing plants making it a home. However, it is also possible that it was only constructed in the 1800s when the new Penryn castle was built, and was designed to be a romantic ruin, the kind that would excite and charm the wealthy gentlefolk who would build a Norman castle even while the industrial revolution was taking place. So did we stand on the spot where medieval folk worshipped God, albeit imperfectly and papally? Or did we stand on the place of some romantic imagination, where worship of God was never offered? A place where a dismantled chapel was constructed with the very intention of leaving it a ruin? A church that never was a church.

When churches close and lock their doors for good, I sometimes feel sad that that is one less place in which the gospel is preached. On the other hand, I ponder, was the good news ever preached there even when it was open and functioning? Was it always just a romantic ruin, silent about grace, uncomprehending Christ’s atoning death, ignoring and keeping others ignorant about His wonderful resurrection? Was it twittering on about morality and civility, climate change and heritage?

Some churches are ruined, ruinous and ruining on the very day they open.

A lying tongue hateth those that are afflicted by it; and a flattering mouth worketh ruin. Proverbs 26:28

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