Three Churches - Part One: St. George's Chapel, Windsor Castle

Tours to Europe are an enigma, and my recent trip to London & Paris with a group of students from Gannon University was no exception. The Dickensian quote is so appropriate to describe our excursion: "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...." The worst - well, for someone that makes it to the UK at least once each calendar year, and who has found personal favorite, out-of-the-way places, who enjoys theatre, concerts, quiet evening walks, the experience of travel with a dozen college students who are vaulting the Atlantic for the first time is a bit like teaching a large brood of puppies to pee outside. The best - looking at the faces of those young men and women as they gaze on Big Ben, St. Paul's Cathedral, the Tower of London, not through the photos on a page in a history book, but first-hand, with their own eyes, the view mediated only by the crisp late winter air. Joy!

Personally, I would like to take the time to reflect on three of my experiences in three very different churches: St. George's Chapel, Windsor Castle; Canterbury Cathedral, Kent; and Notre Dame, Ile de la Cite, Paris. Each a spiritual heart and home as well as a place of pilgrimmage for the faithful, curious, or agnostic. Each had its own charism and attraction, and each had its own moments of revulsion or disappointment.

First, St. George's Chapel. When we arrived at Windsor Castle on Sunday Morning, February 28, a sign at the gate noted that the chapel would be closed. I had a bit of a panic - as a priest and associate member of the Order of Julian of Norwich, it is my customary practice to participate in a service of Holy Eucharist. While I know that I can always gather a few friends and celebrate myself, I find it much more engaging to participate in services wherever I find myself, in the local community. I had hoped to attend a service somewhere in Windsor, and panicked for a moment thinking I'd have to go into the town, find a service, and still make it back to the tour bus for our return trip into London. On a whim, I decided to play the clergy card, finding the most sympathetic of guides in the castle (noting that by-in-large, the guides and staff at Windsor are among the most accomodating, helpful, and friendly you will find in the UK!), saying, "I really need to attend a Holy Eucharist - I'm a priest - is there any way that I would be able to attend at the chapel?" A gracious and hospitable smile looked back at me, and told me to wait by the front door of the chapel, and at 10:45 am, the door would be open to any and all who want to participate in the service.

The chapel itself is lovely - and like most chapels, is under some renovation (all of the churches seem to be under constant renovation and repair, which is to be expected of buildings centuries old). I entered and made my way to the quire, which was lovely. Visiting this particular day was an inspiring and talented choir from Chelsea, and their Byrd Five-Part Mass was a perfect setting. The service was the traditional rite from the Book of Common Prayer, the celebrant faced the altar for the Eucharist, and we, the congregation as it were, sat in the choir stalls.

Congregation - two dozen, if that. A small number for such an important center of faith. As I made my way back to my seat after receiving communion, I looked down to see a large slab, into which was the carved memorial that beneath lie the remains of Henry VIII, Queen Jane Seymour, and an infant child of Queen Anne. A reminder of the continuity of faith, and a comfort that regardless of the number in worship that Sunday, we faithful stand in a stream, with the whole communion of saints. My notion of average Sunday attendance should always be tempered by the reality that regardless of the number of women, men, and children who are in the pews, in reality, all of creation is joining in our service of praise and thanksgiving, which we offer week after week, in celebration for the gift of life and the offer of salvation.