The view of Christ Church Cathedral from our hotel
When some were speaking about the temple, how it was adorned with beautiful stones and gifts dedicated to God, he said, "As for these things that you see, the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another; all will be thrown down." (Luke 21:5-6)I must admit that my first reaction upon entering St. Patrick's was a slight turning in my stomach. An admission-paying visitor enters the cathedral at the rear of the nave and is greeted by the gift shop. The gift shop features some very nice books, recordings, and postcards, among the bright green Irish clover-adorned trinkets. I told Erin I was having a temple money-changers moment. She told me to get over it.
Our guide said St. Patrick's Cathedral and Christ Church Cathedral, up the street, receive their primary funding from tourist admission and gift shop revenue. This is reportedly necessary because they receive no funding from the Government of Ireland. Wow. That would certainly complete the upside-down picture: if the church's primary relationship with its constituents was to drain taxpayer resources. Does the building exist to serve people, or people to serve the building?
I began to think about these gorgeous spaces, built to enhance worship by providing a glimpse of heaven on earth. At this, they are very effective. I'm sure they cost incredible sums to build, but they were built in a day when every citizen was at least a nominal member of the Church, so all of Ireland was solicited for contributions. When St. Patrick's Cathedral found itself in desperate need of restoration in the 1800s, the extravagantly wealthy Benjamin Guinness stepped up to the plate (or the pitch, I suppose, in cricket country). Now, the buildings cost incredible sums to preserve and maintain. And, of course, it would be tragic to neglect them. They are truly treasures. But they're earthly treasures, designed by human architects and built of stones and glass. Ecclesiastes reminds us that all this toil is ultimately meaningless, as nothing built by human hands will last forever. How glad I am that God's heavenly kingdom will have no roofs to replace, no boilers to repair.
It appears that these cathedrals have built their mission around faithfulness as stewards of their marvelous facilities and heritage. This is inarguably important, but we find ourselves in a time when it's already difficult to keep the main thing the main thing. By becoming slaves to buildings, has the church made idols for itself? "The church" is so central to the culture of Dublin and Ireland, but so much of the population remains unreached by the saving Gospel. Maybe God will send another St. Patrick to preach His truth to a needy people. St. Bono has a nice ring to it.
So I stand in the darkened nave of St. Patrick's Cathedral with all of this on my mind and in my heart. But now, it's time to worship with a choir of believers. As we process from the rear of the nave, Andy plays an improvisation that begins somewhat ominously. But we can see the warmly-lit chancel ahead of us, with tall candles glowing from the choir stalls, where our place has been prepared. As we continue down the aisle, there's a real sense of walking out of darkness, into light. We arrive in the chancel, and it feels fitting. There is a meeting of the music we sing and the space for which it was intended. But more importantly, there is a sense of appropriateness to worship in a place purposed for worship for over 800 years. It is meet, right, and good. We are worshipers. We worship the living Christ together—this, we know how to do.
From the Book of Common Prayer:
Gracious Father, we pray for thy holy Catholic Church. Fill it with all truth, in all truth will all peace. Where it is corrupt, purify it; where it is in error, direct it; where in any thing it is amiss, reform it. Where it is right, strengthen it; where it is in want, provide for it; where it is divided, reunite it; for the sake of Jesus Christ thy Son our Savior. Amen.
