In my previous post, I spoke on the Romanesque. To me it is an expression of stone that feels like home. Though I have yet to truly immerse myself in the broad span of Romanesque works across Europe, I have been able to visit one closer to home. Recently I went on a pilgrimage of sorts to Malmesbury, a delightfully quaint market town. From the high street alone it has the memory of old England’s charm, but at the heart of the town is far greater charm, stretching back 1,300 years, the deeply embedded Malmesbury Abbey, still standing after enduring nearly a thousand winters. From the surface level this town is perfectly chocolate box, a tourist would relish in it’s quiet British lull, yet sleeping deep beneath the soil is the foundational roots which grew this once Great land. The sleepy market town with 5 or so charity shops, a hardware shop, some cafes and a good pub was once known as The City of the Britons, in the days of yonder year before the Imperial Eagle of Rome swept above the isles.
It is as if the artisans who crafted this church attempted to capture The Word in stone that the story might be passed on from ages to ages.
Thank you for sharing a glimpse into our divine patrimony. So much have we forgotten, so much do we need to remember.
Thoughtful and well done.