I remember the precise moment I fell in love with Coventry Cathedral. It was on my first visit. As I entered I saw what you see above, which is quite wonderful in many ways. But after I had walked up towards the altar to inspect the great tapestry, I pivoted — and that’s when it hit me.
It’s important to understand that I had just made the movements that people make when they receive Communion: I had approached the Lord of Glory with the wounds in his hands and feet and side; I had come to the place where his body and blood are given for me; and then I turned.
What I saw, first, was tall thin columns of bright color: the stained glass windows that cannot be seen when you’re facing the altar. (There are surprisingly few good photographs online taken from where I stood, but you can get a few glimpses in this short film, though the commentary is uninformed about the theology that underlies the design.)
And then of course I saw the angels.
Much larger version here.
It’s as though, having received the Holy Meal, you are suddenly able to see the world as it is: radiant with light and populated by angels engaged in their everlasting music of healing and consolation. Truly they are there.
And they stand between us and the broken world, for the vista they look out upon is the world broken by humans: more particularly, the ruins of the medieval cathedral that had been bombed in the Second World War.
Here’s a brilliant BBC documentary about the building of the cathedral, first shown in 2021. And here’s a rather academic but still fascinating article about the making of that film, written by John Wyver, the film’s writer/director.
