The World Turned Upside Down

There are a few places in the world where the past is in league with the present, creating a transcendent unification of time.   Westminster Abbey is one such place.  Standing in her nave and gazing into her Gothic vault, you are in solidarity with this thousand year old worshipping community. Benedictine monks venerated this site during the 10^th century and the present building was begun in 1245 by King Henry III.  William the Conqueror, Edward the Confessor, Richard II and Elizabeth I all left their mark on this Royal Peculiar.  It’s one of my favorite spots on the planet.  Another similar place is Yorktown, Virginia.  Several hundred years the Abbey’s younger, she still entreats her visitor to experience a different world. 

It was here on October 19, 1781, following a five-day siege by the Continentals, that General Cornwallis surrendered, effectively ending the Revolutionary War.  Burdened by pride and years of superiority, Cornwallis could not bring himself personally to surrender, sending an inferior officer out in his stead.  The officer, not wishing to lower himself by capitulating to the colonials, first tried to concede victory to the Comte de Rochambeau, who directed him to General Washington, who in turn pointed him to his subordinate, General Lincoln.  On this spot, and on that day, two worlds collided.  The old world of aristocracy, privilege, hierarchy and paternalism gave way convincingly to a new world characterized by liberty, meritocracy, economic mobility and classical republican ideology.  As Cornwallis’ Regulars marched out of Yorktown for the last time, legend has it a British band played the song, “The World Turned Upside Down”, commemorating this watershed event.

“If ponies rode men and grass ate cows,

And cats were chased into holes by the mouse…

If summer were spring and the other way round,

Then the entire world would be upside down.”[i]

What a strange world this would be.  Stranger still, the thought of heaven coming down to earth to regenerate our fallen planet.  How would such an apocalyptic event change our mundane lives?  For starters, imagine power and position used for service rather than self-promotion, picture authentic relationships built on mutual understanding and trust rather than manipulation, dream of work that fulfills and flourishes, envision economics that resist the temptation to stock pile wealth in the hands of the few, but rather divides her surplus equally, experience equality over against hierarchy and privilege,  and tables of welcome open to all who choose to join in the feast.  What a radical world this would be. 

At the heart of the Gospel message is this hope, and we don’t have to wait until death to experience it.  Christ mobilizes his followers to join Him in His work to redeem all of creation here and now, to take part in the flourishing of his good earth and to restore all things into right relationship with Him.  His 2,000 year old prophecy rings in our modern ears, “Behold, I am making ALL things new!”[ii]

Make no mistake, this is not the re-packaging of the doctrine of inevitable progress, that theory died on Flanders Fields and was burned in the crematoria of Auschwitz.  In its place is the belief that a new creation has already dawned with the life, ministry, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.  The Jesus event ushered in a new world, a new creation that is being fulfilled daily relationship by relationship, economy by economy, village by village and will ultimately find its completion with his parousia.  Our call is to join the disciples, not standing gazing into heaven wishing for instant kingdom culmination, but rather in their work restoring relationships, binding broken hearts, welcoming outcasts and setting the addicts free.  Wherever we find the Nazerene toiling for peace, justice and righteousness, we join him.  And in joining our lives, passions and gifts with His, we help bring the present rushing forward into the ultimate consummation of His future, when God will be all in all as the waters cover the sea.[iii] 

---

[i] English Ballad, circa 1643.

[ii] Revelation 21:5.

[iii] Habakkuk 2:14.

Get Thee To a Nunnery, Or at Least An Abbey

Cruising up the Thames on a summer evening is a slice of heaven on earth. The cool twilight breeze over the water quickens the senses as we pass under London Bridge and catch a glimpse of the Tower of London, gleaming white with the final rays of dusk. Christopher Wren’s St. Paul’s Cathedral dominates the northern bank as the London Eye comes into focus far ahead in the distance. As darkness falls, the lights of this ancient city illuminate the river where Roman boats once sailed. At length, we dock just under Big Ben and walk around the corner to Westminster Abbey, my favorite man-made structure on earth.

The original abbey was built by King Edward the Confessor in 1065, one year prior to the Norman invasion. The edifice we enjoy today dates mainly from 1245 and the reign of King Henry III. Seventeen Royals make Westminster their final resting place, including Elizabeth I, Anne of Cleves, Edward V and Mary Queen of Scots. Adding to her imperial history, the abbey has witnessed 38 coronations including her first on Christmas Day 1066, when William the Conqueror marched directly from the Battle of Hastings to be crowned king. What makes the Abbey even more interesting is the vast number of playwrights and famous Brits who find in her their final earthly home. Among the most notable are:

Oliver Cromwell, Charles Darwin, Sir Isaac Newton, Geoffrey Chaucer, Charles Dickens, George Frederick Handel, William Wilberforce, and my beloved novelist Thomas Hardy

But, beyond all these incredible human beings rests a building made to and for the glory of God. Westminster Abbey is one of the oldest Gothic Cathedrals in England and she differs from her Romanesque predecessors through invention and innovation. The very first Gothic architect was the Abbot Suger (pronounced Soo Zher) whose colossal handiwork was the remodeling of the Church of Saint Denis in France. His modern worldview decreed that men only come to understand the absolute beauty (God) through the affect of precious and beautiful things on our senses. When overcome with something true, beautiful, perfect or right we respond with worship. The abbot wrote, “the dull mind rises to truth through that which is material”. With this as his impetus, he went to work building a cathedral designed to bring heaven down to earth. He was aided by the invention of ribbed vaulting, flying buttresses and pointed arches allowing for much taller structures filled with glass instead of stone. He and his Gothic descendants ceased building small, dark churches made of thick stone walls and instead created enormous cathedrals full of height and light.

The very entrance into such a structure is an escape from temporal reality, and yet it is very much part and parcel of our actuality. Upon entering, you are overcome with a feeling of insignificance, suddenly overwhelmed by something much greater and larger than yourself. As one walks further into the central nave, the trajectory of your gaze turns skyward to the vast ceiling above. No-one can enter a Gothic cathedral without first looking towards heaven, it’s as natural as thunder following lightening. Suger and his 13th century craftsmen captured and expressed the very attributes of God. His architectural style echoes the words of Jesus when he said "if you know me, you know my father in heaven".  I can almost hear those great Gothic men of the past saying,

"come, enter this cathedral and look:  look at the grandeur, look at the height, experience the light, study the detail and symmetry, postulate on reason, engulf yourself in mystery, feel your own dependence and above all wonder; wonder at the majesty of it all because THIS IS WHAT GOD IS LIKE."  

From Westminster in England to Chartres in France, the Gothic style continues reminding us that God is near.