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| Ely Cathedral © CambridgeNews.com |
[Note: The quotations listed here have been only slightly revised, and names were changed because I do not wish to intrude, but the focus or object of these quotations was preserved.]
I had no idea, and I am amazed! I am truly humbled and astounded by the significance of the Gothic cathedral. What is more, I am saddened that I didn't know the things which I now know, when I walked through the famous Gothic cathedral in Ely, England. Let me share with you.
I must stress how important the Gothic cathedrals were to everyday life. One was baptized in the church; arranged his or her day by the ringing of the church bells; received formal education in it or through it; relied upon its social services such as hospitals, orphanages, and relief for the poor; was married in it; trusted the justice of its courts; became a member of the society it dominated; and was buried by it. The cathedral dominated the physical and psychological existence of the town's people. It was the very center, philosophically and geographically, of culture. It provided cultural identity to its supporters.
During crew rest following a mission deployment to RAF Mildenhall from Eielson AFB, I had the urge to visit the countryside and “see the sights,” something different than the customary visits to the Bird In Hand watering hole. Some of my colleagues at Mildy suggested I might like to see the cathedral in Ely. That sounded like a great idea, so I caught a bus to that recommended site and soon found myself inside that famous edifice.
As I walked through the cathedral, I was dumbfounded by its illusory massiveness and by its spaciousness! The nave was as big as a city block and reminded me of a covered town square. Indeed, there were wild pigeons feeding inside, just as one might find in an outside square. Tourists and townspeople strolled about with their hands clasped behind their backs, just as they might have done while enjoying a walk through the park.
Ely Cathedral Nave © Soundscapes.com
The sounds! Oh, the beautiful sounds! The boy's choir was practicing (how lucky I was to catch them), and their tenor and soprano harmonies surrounded me with peace and joy and wonder. It was all very strange and inspiring to me. My upbringing had not prepared me for this moment. My senses were nearly overloaded. The voices engulfed me, but I could see no one singing, until I wandered into the choir.
As I timidly walked in, I was surprised by their nearness and by how very high their balconies were stacked. Perhaps one hundred of them were standing in vertical rows high above me and on both sides. For the better part of an hour I stood at the center of the entry to the choir, and I listened as they sung. They sung high above me, all around me, in the most beautiful tones, not unlike angels might have done. They sang high above me, back and forth and in harmony together, not unlike angels might have done. Not unlike angels.
I was spellbound and wandered about the cathedral in a daze. I struggled to take in the beauty and inspiration of the massive stained glass windows. I marveled at the down‑to‑earth nature of the signs, plaques, and offerings scattered everywhere about, almost haphazardly. One wall was a checkerboard of small bronze or copper plaques. Some were obviously new; they shined so brightly against the mottled gray stone. Some were old and crusted with the green oxidation of age. All of them bore messages and gave permanent testament to grief or joy or just being.
"To My Beloved Husband Johnny: I love you so. M."
"In memory of our son Alfred, R.A.F. Sq. 231, killed over Germany, 4.3.43"
"In memory of our beloved mother, Elizabeth M. B. Edwards, Born 6.23.03, confirmed 7.15.25, died 12.12.61. Her four children."
"In His name, I give thanks. Purdy Miller."
The dark, polished wooden pews were bedecked with small brass plates that told their own tales.
"This pew purchased by the family of Edward L. Steppen."
"Margaret Burnham, her seat."
"Here my soul was saved. Milton Windham."
"Mark this my word for continued support. B. Wells."
A kaleidoscope of questions and speculations assaulted my mind. The choir and the pigeons cooed and murmured in harmonic tremolo. I was overjoyed at the sensations I had discovered. It was wonderful! Yet, now I know how little I knew. It was true 500 years ago, and it is true today: the cathedral is the very center of learning, culture, and society. The essence of all life in Ely is the binding filament that cements the cathedral together. The Ely cathedral is an encyclopedia of the last 500 years of local history.
It is true that "youth is wasted on the young" and “ignorance is bliss.” Now, I shall have to return to Ely.