Ship of the Fens

Since moving to West Norfolk, one of the roads I’ve come to travel regularly is the A10. Heading south, the next large conurbation is Ely, instantly recognisable by its cathedral. Perched on a slight rise and towering above the surrounding flat fenlands, it has been affectionately named the ‘Ship of the Fens’.

Driving home from RM meetings and events, or after visiting family further south, reaching Ely and catching sight of the cathedral tells me I am nearly home - with around an hour’s drive to go. Even at night, it is illuminated and visible from a distance.

I’ve visited the cathedral several times - once as a tourist and twice for services. Worship and prayer take place throughout the week, and its unique architectural features attract around 250,000 visitors each year.

On my ‘tourist’ visit, I found myself standing, like many others, gazing up at the architecture, stonework and artwork - almost bumping into people who were doing the same. It is an impressive building, both up close and from afar, and parts of the present structure date back to 1083.

If I’m honest, I find it easy to be impressed by church buildings. Some, like this cathedral, are ancient and vast; others are contemporary, thoughtfully designed spaces for ministry in today’s context. I have to remind myself that although God uses buildings, he continually chooses to work beyond them too.

I’m in good company. The disciples were also impressed by the Temple in Jerusalem. For them - and for the vast majority of Jews at the time - the Temple “embodied the solidarity and reliability of their covenant relationship with the Lord.”* Yet Jesus challenged this understanding of where that covenant security was found. In John 2:19, he cryptically points to himself, indicating that the true foundation of that relationship would be revealed through his actions at Passover - what we now know as Easter.

Jesus’ words were not a dismissal of buildings. He taught in the Temple, and the early church continued to gather there. Rather, he reframed where the security and confidence of a relationship with God are rooted.

Our church buildings remain places where the Holy Spirit continues to be present and work. As our East Anglia Rural Mission Hub heard, sometimes God even allows them to lie fallow for a season before bringing fresh purpose. It can be tempting, therefore, to assume these buildings will always be used by God. We may place our confidence in the buildings themselves and their apparent permanence, centring our attention and action on these spaces. But while God may use - and reuse - church buildings, and while he certainly works beyond them in countless ways within our communities, our confidence ultimately rests in what God has done in Christ and will continue to do through the Holy Spirit.

Ely is a place I pass regularly. As I drive by and see the cathedral rising above the fens, I want to appreciate it as a reminder of what God has done - and is still doing through the Spirit - while remembering that my ultimate confidence rests not in stone and mortar, but in Jesus and the Holy Spirit’s continued agency in the present.

So, I wonder…

What does your local church building mean to you - whether it’s your own church’s building or one you pass in your community?

And, what might the Spirit saying to you about this?

Sam Abramian

Director, East of England, Rural Ministries

*Quote from Stephen Motyer, ‘Come, Lord Jesus’