Canterbury Cathedral Crypt

Canterbury Cathedral at night

Beckett Window in Canterbury Cathedral

Beckett memorial

A candle marks the memorial to Thomas Beckett. His remains were moved from his first tomb to a memorial in this place in 1220, which became the shrine that pilgrims to Canterbury visited until it was destroyed in 1538 by Henry VIII. The candle burns 24/7.

Canterbury Tales

We took the fast train from London to Canterbury—and in under an hour we were walking through a medieval town, with a contemporary sensibility—Christchurch gate has a Starbucks attached to it. We stayed on the grounds of the Cathedral itself, and were treated to an incredible view outside the window, as well as the chance to wander the grounds and take photos at night when the Christchurch gate is closed to visitors.

Evensong was beautiful---I loved the music, I loved the choir, I loved the little boy sopranos all dressed up in the choir robes with the starched, ruffled collars that most of them fiddled with all through the service. We sat where we could see the choir director and it was fun to watch him work the group, and mouth ‘perfect’ to them when they nailed something. It didn’t detract from the prayer---somehow it seemed to seamlessly integrate into the experience, because it was, indeed, perfect.

No separation of Church and State here. God save the Queen.

The University of Kent is graduating this week---6 different times in the Cathedral, so access for visiting was very, very limited. The one thing that we wanted to see was the memorial that commemorates the place where the martyrdom of Thomas Beckett took place in 1170. It was closed to the public because of the graduation ceremonies. Sadness. We did get to view the site of the traditional memorial to St Thomas Beckett, which was destroyed by Henry VIII. It is marked by a simple candle that is always lit---you can see the places in the tile where it is worn down from the pilgrims who came to kneel there. I remember reading Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales when I was in high school, but now I really understand the context.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thomas_Beckett

The Cathedral itself is beyond massive, in a way that I’ve never experienced in any other Cathedral. It seems to go on forever. It’s sort of a patchwork Cathedral---constructed over hundreds of years with ever-advancing architecture. The beginnings of the Cathedral are Romanesque---the later additions are Gothic. The ceilings, at least those we were able to view, are amazing. At the moment, it’s undergoing some significant restoration, which means that there is scaffolding everywhere.

It’s very much a working Cathedral. The sense of history in the place is tangible, and not just because Thomas Beckett was murdered within its walls. It has an ancient, yet timeless quality about it. It's not quite St. Peter's in Rome, but it is the equivalent of the Vatican---on Anglican terms.

"His Banner Over Me Is Love"

Boston Logan airport. Oh my. You can’t make this stuff up.

I’ve never been in an airport where you had to go through security again when you were catching a connecting flight. Not until Boston Logan. We arrived at the A Terminal and the connecting flight to London was out of the B Terminal. Simple enough, eh? Not.

Worst. Signage. Ever. There was one sign that said ‘Connecting Flights”---so we went in that direction. And we walked. And walked. And walked. We finally got to where we were leaving the secure area and thought we had missed the turn to B Terminal. Not. We asked the guy at the door where B Terminal was and he pointed out the door. “Do we have to go through security again?” He looked at us like we were from another planet (well, perhaps Seattle is another planet) and said ‘yeah,’ with a 'what planet are YOU from, lady?' tone in his voice. With less than two hours until our next flight, this wasn’t the happiest news we could have received.

But that was only the beginning…..

We finally got to B Terminal. We got ready to go through security. The guy in front of me had stuff in his pockets that set off the metal detector, so they sent him back through---and while they were doing that, and I was watching my stuff go onto the conveyor belt through the scanner (I hate it when my stuff gets through ahead of me), the TSA woman pointed at me and pulled me out of line. She asked me, in a very accusing tone, “What do you have on you that set it off?” “I didn’t set it off,” I replied. “The guy in front of me did.” She apparently didn’t believe me. She pointed at my plastic watch and my plastic belt and ordered me to take them off (they’ve never set anything off in any other airport). Then, I received an invitation to step into a wrap-around scanner, with footprints on the floor. Interesting. I handed her my stuff, and she asked if I ‘anything else’ on me---and said that we could step into a private room if need be. I really wasn’t expecting a strip search, you know? She decided that wasn’t necessary, ordered me to put my hands over my head in “His Banner Over Me is Love” style and started talking low into her walkie talkie thing. “Blah-blah-blah-blah-blah-female,” says the TSA lady. I’m still singing “His Banner Over Me is Love,” and wondering what I ever did to get myself potentially strip-searched.

And then it hit me. I was in one of those full-body scanners. I was virtually *NEKKED* folks! GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! I was experiencing a virtual strip-search. At this point, I didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry, so I turned around to Jo, who had also been pulled out of line (guilty by association, perhaps?) and was about to be virtually *NEKKED* as well. I said, “Remember when flying used to be fun?” TSA lady was not amused.

Finally, she said it was ok to step out of the NEKKED machine. Now it was Jo’s turn to sing “His Banner Over Me is Love.” We both decided that this was hysterical, and she suggested that on the way back, we needed to bring flowers to the guy that had to observe our virtual NEKKED-ness. Hee.

But that’s not all….

We got on the plane and pushed back 2 mins. early with a promise that we’d be in London earlier than our scheduled time of 6:50 AM. We sat and sat and sat on the tarmac.

The captain came on the intercom and announced that we were returning to the gate to deal with a ‘minor’ problem. Then Jo pointed out the window at the 3 fire trucks and 1 medic truck that were all escorting us back to the gate. “Minor” problem? GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! Get me off this plane!

So, we sat and watched the firemen, in full fireman regalia, get out of the truck, get on the plane and go into the cockpit. I began to wonder why I hadn’t packed a rosary, because I could have used it just about then. The captain came back onto the intercom and said, “blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, aeronautical tech-speak, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, steam into a line, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, more aeronautical tech-speak, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, thought that smoke was coming out of the engine, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah."

So, we sat. And sat.

60 minutes later, the firemen left the cockpit and the captain came on to apologize for the umpteenth time, and said, “blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, even more aeronautical tech-speak, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, but we’re fine now, so we’re leaving and so sorry for the inconvenience”

It was a long night. That 'sleeping on the plane' thing didn't work. We landed 90 mins late, but who cares? We got there in one piece, and so did the plane, thanks be to God!

Up, up and away!

Morning arrived early---3AM for me, a feeble attempt to get onto a new time zone. I used to love air travel, now it's something to be endured. Long security lines, and somehow I always get behind someone who hasn't put all their liquids/gels into a zip-lock bag and has to dig them out of everywhere. Oh, well.....

The quick stop for coffee in the airport was fun because my friend, Jordan, was flying out at the same time, so Jo and I had coffee with him. Shout out to Jordan! What a nice surprise! We talked about how there is no coincidence, only grace.

And the other bit of grace this morning is that Alaska Airlines is offering FREE WiFi on domestic flights through the month of July---so I'm writing this at 30,000 feet!

I'm remembering my first trans-Atlantic flight in 1986---I was flying to Ireland and as we were taking off, just about everyone on the plane took out their rosaries and rattled them until we were up in the air. Once we were airborne, the rosaries went back to wherever they had come from, only to return again for the landing. It seemed as though it was timed, and it seemed as though the whole plane prayed us up and then down again. It felt comforting to me, especially since I had never been on a flight that lasted more than an hour prior to this. I didn't notice any rosaries on this flight.

Several years ago, I heard Sr. Jose Hobday speak on the topic of prayer (Sr. Jose has since died, God bless her!). She spoke about how she prayed on all the flights she used to take. She said that when the plane is lifting into the air, she would pray that, whatever happened, she would go to God---and as the plane was landing, she would pray the same thing.

I stole her idea, and that's what I've done ever since. I pray that as the plane rises, I go to God, as the plane descends, I go to God.