Winchester Cathedral

Photo credit ©Ron Hendricks

May 2nd, 2022

By Kathy Hendricks

On a recent trip to Europe, I had an unexpected chance to visit a cherished sacred space. The river cruise which my husband, Ron, and I took down the Rhine included visits to several cathedrals, each with its own “claim to fame.” Cologne – the tallest twin-spired church in the world. Speyer – resting place of eight Holy Roman emperors and German kings. Strasbourg – a masterpiece of Gothic art. All were awe-inspiring but the majestic cathedral in Winchester remains the most memorable.

In a previous post, “Gaining Perspective”, I explained the reason for a side trip to the U.K. Although I tested negative for Covid a day after my arrival, I still had several more days to wait until I was cleared for travel by the airline. This afforded time for me and my gracious hostess, Maureen, to visit the cathedral and its lovely surroundings. The church has its own reasons for fame, notwithstanding a tacky song that has little to do with its majesty and grace. It is the longest medieval church in the world and holds as one of its many treasures a bible from the 12th century. Jane Austen is buried there. My favorite aspect of the cathedral, however, is its massive clerestory window and the story behind it.* After the stained glass windows throughout the church were smashed in the 17th century by a group of drunken soldiers, the residents of Winchester retrieved the bits of glass and stored them for eighteen years. Replicating the original pattern proved impossible so the current window is a striking mosaic that illuminates the rest of the church when backlit by the sun.

There is a lovely metaphor contained in this story. How many people have had their lives smashed by grief, despair, and exile? Consider the millions who have fled their homes in Ukraine, Syria, Central America, and other parts of the world. Or the ongoing grief of those left behind by the millions who died of Covid in the U.S. and across the world. For each death, there is a ring of loved ones for whom life will never be the same. Any degree of loss can leave one with a shattered heart. In time we may find the strength to pick up the shards and piece them back together again. The heart will never be the same shape and contour as before, but the light can still shine through.

My first visit to Winchester Cathedral took place many years ago and included a lovely concert, which I attended with Maureen. As the voices of the choir reverberated throughout the church, I thought of the millions of prayers that filled the space over its lifetime. This time around, my own were for a safe return home as well as safekeeping for all of those displaced forever by tyranny and violence. The window’s light fell upon me, providing a bit of warmth on a cold day, assuring me of the hope that outlasts despair and the grace of time and possibility that can arise from the shards we collect and store for a brigher time.

Response by Barbara Radtke

Thanks, Kathy, for this memorable story. Two things stand out to me: the senseless destruction of the window and the community action to make it anew. The eruption of a conflict or war brings damage that is born out of tactical advances and defeats. Sometimes there even are tactical mistakes. But the violence of war often unleashes the private, individual demolition of property and violation of lives that seem born out of a senseless hatred with no military advantage. The destruction of the window belongs to the latter kind of ruin. Unfortunately, we are witnesses to such obliteration each day on the nightly news. The story of the cathedral window brings a dimension of hope that something of beauty and purpose, echoing what existed before a war, can rise like a phoenix out of the ashes.

The story also reminds me that it is the responsibility of each and every one of us to pick up the shards in these experiences and protect them as treasures. Although there is no immediate clarity of the role we might have in reconstructing a better future, the clues of hope for peace are scattered among many just like the shards of the window were kept by many in the community.

I very much liked your analogy of the window to personal loss, Kathy. While the work of healing and recovery is one that belongs to each individual shattered by an experience, embedded in the analogy is that family, friends, and loving strangers hold clues and sign posts of how to fashion ourselves anew and be reconstituted after our loss.

*P.S. For those history buffs who would like to know more about the window, here is a helpful link. https://www.guideofengland.com/winchester/winchester-cathedral-stain-glass-window.html