On Wednesday just past, I posted an article on the fast undertaken by the Archbishop of York - the Most Rev'd Dr. John Sentamu - for peace in the Middle East and beyond. Here, Stephen Bates, of The Guardian, comments on what is happening in a side chapel in York Minster.
Bates writes:
… John Sentamu, the Archbishop of York, the Church of England's first black primate, has foregone his summer holiday this year - he was meant to be going to Salzburg to enjoy some Mozart with his wife - in favour of seven days of prayer and fasting for peace in the Middle East and beyond. … To ensure that his sacrifice does not go unnoticed, Sentamu is carrying out his week of prayer and fasting right in the heart of his cathedral, and in dramatic fashion: he has pitched a small mountaineering tent - green, with an Episcopal purple lining - in front of the altar in one of the minster's side chapels.
As Bates says, it is a strangely appropriate place to stage a demonstration against war. The Archbishop's tent is after all in front of the altar of the Prince of Peace. But, the chapel walls are covered with memorials to other wars, fought by Yorkshire men, in other times.
"Why did he do it?" we want to know, eager perhaps to hear of some unusual precipitant. But there is no hint of any burning bush in what the Archbishop had to say on the matter. Indeed, we all have heard and seen what moved him to do what he did.
""Early in the war, I was watching BBC television news and Jeremy Bowen came on in a hospital in Lebanon and there was an eight-year-old girl who had lost her right eye and he said her parents had been killed and she hadn't been told yet. It was like a bayonet went into my heart. It just got to me.
"Then, a week or two later, there was Jeremy Bowen again in a village wrecked by rocket fire and there was an old woman, 85 years old. Most people had left and only the elderly and infirm remained behind. She could have been my mother. I found myself so devastated. My prayers were just crying out to God. This was atrocious. I couldn't get it out of my mind.
"People were asking me what they could do and I was giving them the usual glib answers like prayer, but my prayers were getting quite difficult. I knew I wouldn't achieve much writing to the prime minister. My feeling of helplessness was getting to me. I was becoming numb and I thought I had to pray. The question was where?"
In a day or two , the answer came, and there the tent sits on that chapel floor in the city of York.
It's a great comment, that tent, pitched in the midst of the great Minster. "Tent" of course was "tabernaculum" in Latin, and "tabernacle" reminds us that it was in a tent that the Israelites housed the Ark of the Covenant during the Exodus. We've come a long way since those days, and you don't get much sense of "tent" in our latter-day tabernacles and cathedrals. But there that tent sits for a few more days, reminding us that we are all pilgrims-on-the-move across the wilderness toward peace, and a land of plenty for all Yahweh's children.
Toward the and of his interview with Archbishop Sentamu, Stephen Bates reminds him that his fast started on Sunday, and by Monday there was a ceasefire.
"He shrugs. 'The more I pray, the more coincidences there are,' he laughs."