Riddley Walker at Canterbury Cathedral

 

 A message about the power of holy places, from a novel set in the future

 

 

Sometimes you read a book, which though it has been hard work, you know it has had a lasting effect upon you.  Not so long ago I came across one of those, though I will admit I almost gave up half-way through.  "Riddley Walker" by Russell Hoban was a book I had heard about and I knew that it was recommended by people as varied as the novelist Will Self and Archbishop Rowan Williams, so when I saw it on the shelves on Lingham's I thought I should give it a try.

 

It was hard work, describing as it does a post-nuclear holocaust England. It is narrated by a young man, Riddley Walker, as he journeys through an increasingly hostile and dangerous south east England. More to the point, it is written in a curious made-up dialect, an attempt by the author to shew how spelling and grammar decay as civilisation collapses. But this "coming of age" novel has powerful moments associated with particular places which touch the narrator (and the reader) very deeply. At "Fork Stone" (Folkestone) Riddley stands in the ruins of a power station and cries out in despair: "O, what have we been !  And what have we come to !" - he realises the loss and destruction of society and identity and community.  But at "Cambry"  (Canterbury) something almost redemptive happens. Again he stands amidst ruins, this time of Canterbury Cathedral, but is not convulsed with despair. Instead, he traces the carvings on the stones, tries to understand the stories they tell, and says "I opened my mouth and murmured, just letting my throat make a sound".  What was a holy place still connects him to deep emotions and deep longings, perhaps what the Old Testament Book Ecclesiastes calls "eternity set in the human heart"  (Ecclesiastes 3).

 

I find that a very powerful moment in the book. Riddley connects with something deeper and more profound than he has ever known in his troubled years. The ruins at "Cambry"  become almost a revelation (though our author hints at this rather than makes it explicit)

 

Holy places can and do speak at very deep levels of the human psyche, and we believe that they can be revelatory of the presence of God, part of that binding back to our true Centre which is what we are about.  Our God can be and is met in all places, and all moments can be sacramental of him, but Christians have often had a sense of particular places and particular moments which reveal God's presence. The Sacraments, the reading of the Word are obviously those moments of focus and revelation, converting and renewing in their power, and for many Christians holy places consecrated and "set apart" are the same - none other than the House of God, the Gate of Heaven 

(Genesis 29)           

 

This year we have been celebrating the Centenary of Caldy Church - it is both the centenary of a community of faith and of its place of meeting, space set apart as a sign of the Kingdom of God by the Bishop of Chester on All Saints' Day 1907. This holy space, like St Bridget's over a rather longer period of time, has been a place of meeting for believers, and also for those on the fringes and far beyond, a place where many have found themselves bound back to Him who is the Centre.

 

In Caldy Church and at St Bridget's people have found that they can bring their stories, their heights and their depths, their longings and yearnings, and have found the promise of healing and forgiveness and new meaning, For some it has been at first, like Riddley at Cambry, only dimly understood and expressed, for others it has been almost at once a place where faith is kindled or renewed, but both have met with the living God.  Our celebrations are first and foremost of God's goodness in this holy place, and how his love declared in Jesus and individual human lives have touched there.     

 

The best and truest thanksgiving for an Anniversary of Consecration is to commit ourselves to allowing our community and both its "holy places" become ever more places of welcome, of grace, of meeting with God, and to resolve that we will not close our doors, real or symbolic, to the seeker, to those who come burdened, and to those who come to us at the turning points of their lives.         

 

Amen.   Let it be so ……

 

                                                  Roger Clarke

November 2007

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