Originally published 8/20/16
We were in the cue (line) to order some lunch to eat in (for here) at Michaelhouse cafe, which is a lovely (nice) cafe (restaurant) for a bite to eat (lunch). The British have such a lovely way of saying things, although sometimes it's difficult to understand. We just haven't tuned our ears to their timbre, nor our vocabulary to their speech patterns. As much as I studied Downton and Grantchester, there's nothing like hearing the real thing. So we were in the cue, as I said, and the young woman helping us asked us....something. Oh boy. She said words, and they were similar to ours, but I had no idea what she said. So I spoke loudly and slowly: "We're American. We don't speak English." Lucky for me, they're not French. Another young man behind the counter spun around and said, "I got this." And he spoke loudly and slowly (as a Brit can). "What can I get y'all to drink?" "Yes!!" I exclaimed. "You speak the language of my people!!" "I've been practicing in front of a mirror," he beamed. The cafe staff laughed with us, or at us, I'm not sure, but I believe they were being very nice. Cambridge is, in the summer, deluged with tourists. We've heard Russian, Japanese, Chinese, Italian and a little French. They are tourists, just like we are (ugh, I hate being a tourist), rushing through the shops and taking selfies and pictures of old buildings that seem to run together down 1000-year-old cobblestone streets.
It's so gauche to selfie in front of old buildings, don't you think? (Right)
We spent the morning touristing at King's Chapel, in the background of our self-portrait, above. It's a chapel in the sense that All Saints Sewanee is a chapel, for those of you on the Holy Mountain. For those of you who are not, it's a chapel like the National Cathedral in Washington DC, only bigger. We've got nothing on European churches. This one took 90 years and five kings to build.
Left: This is the nave. That big brown block is the organ, which is as big as a small house. Then, the choir and high altar are the same length, on the other side.
It's 289 feet long and 80 feet high. On the side are multiple chapels (as you may think of an actual chapel) and a small museum outlining the history and architecture. The roof took three years to build, and is comprised of fanned arches with intricate carvings covering it. It looks much like the ceiling at Kings Cross station; which makes sense, that they should follow roof design that has stood for 500 years.
I had a lovely chat with a docent (I didn't get her name, which I now regret) who told me all about the restoration of the organ, which has taken nine months, and which will not be completed until after I leave. Poo. They have to tune it five hours a day for five weeks before it's ready. She said the tuners played it for her one day and she just cried the whole time, it was so magnificent, even if it was not in perfect tune. It's the home of the famous Kings College choir, which is comprised of only 16 boys and 14 undergraduates. The docent's father used to cut their hair. She said they process in with candles during Evensong, at which point she begins to cry as well. She has also attended the world famous Lessons and Carols only once (tickets are very hard to come by, but you can listen in live on the BBC), and she, not surprisingly, cried during the whole thing, it was so beautiful.
The rear window, at right; it faces the Cam River.
It was, of course, stunningly beautiful, and I could only imagine what the organ and choir must sound like in such an extraordinary place. To the side of the high altar, (adorned only by a Rubens painting, Adoration of the Magi) there's a small chapel (of course), with a placard: Please enjoy time in the presence of Jesus.
Whoa.
He's here.
In the little chapel, with an altar and a painting of Madonna and child, there was silence. Among the tourists and the talkative docents and the selfies and the organ restoration, there was the presence of Jesus.
Jesus said to them, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty." John 6:35
Jesus said that, says that, but do we always listen? Even in quiet chapels? Quiet, holy places like a small chapel or a kingly chapel or an outdoor chapel on the side of a mountain always have a stronger sense of the presence of God, especially when there's a placard that assures us he is present. Was he also present as I ogled English teacups and saucers at John Lewis? Was he present as we ordered scones at lunch, or coffee in the late misty afternoon?? (I know that's not the kind of hunger and thirst He's talking about...)
So far we've only discovered coffee houses. There's not as much tea here as I thought.
We say a prayer of thanks over meals, so we invite Christ to our table. We thank him for feeding us. Do we invite him at other times? When we're thankful? Impatient? Hungry? Tired? Gossiping? Irritated? Jet-lagged? Jealous? Coveting teacups and coffee spoons at the department store?
I don't always come to Jesus in those times, but I know, and He has proven to me, that He is there with me, whether I invite him or not. Comforting, for sure.
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