A burst of glory

Coventry Cathedral welcomes everyone. Including those who "got lost on the Ring Road and wound up here by mistake."

I first visited Coventry Cathedral with my parents as a teenager. It was a formative experience. A cherished memory.

I had never visited a building like this before. I was awed by its modernist grandeur, the beautifully designed details, the sense of space and the sense of peace.

I pass it on my trek northwards to visit my brother and every 2-3 years take the detour to revisit. Each time I take a deep breath in wonder as I enter.¹

St Michael’s Cathedral was destroyed by one of the 200 bombs dropped on Coventry during the night of 14th November 1940. Only the tower, spire, outer wall and the tomb of the first bishop survived.

The next morning the Provost, Richard Howard, chalked “Father Forgive” on the wall.

In 1951, Sir Basil Spence was appointed the architect after being inspired by Howard’s gesture of reconciliation. Out of a competition of 200 architects, he was the only one who insisted that the new Cathedral should be built next to the bombed site and that the remnants of the old one become a garden of remembrance.

It is now one of the most popular buildings in the country, but when Sir Basil Spence first revealed the plans he received hundreds of letters the next morning: “80% were rude and the remaining 20% were very rude.” Some things never change.

The Cathedral is populated with work by key artists of the day. Sir Jacob Epstein’s sculpture of Archangel Michael overcoming the Devil dominates the outside.

John Piper’s stunning Baptistry Window greets you as you enter with (in Piper’s own words) “a burst of glory.”

I could stare at the patterns of light for hours.

Graham Sutherland’s tapestry behind the altar is reputedly the largest in the world. It was woven by hand on a 500-year-old-loom at a workshop near Aubusson in France.

At the entrance is this most wonderful message of welcome:

We extend a special welcome to those who are single, married, divorced, widowed, straight, gay, confused, well-heeled or down-at-heel. We especially welcome wailing babies and excited toddlers. We welcome you whether you can sing like Pavarotti or just growl quietly to yourself. You're welcome here if you're just browsing, just woken up or just got out of prison. We don't care if you're more Christian than the Archbishop of Canterbury or haven't been to church since Christmas 10 years ago. We extend a special welcome to those who are over 60 but not grown up yet and to teenagers who are growing up too fast.

We welcome keep-fit moms, football dads, starving artists, tree huggers, latte sippers, vegetarians, junk food eaters. We welcome those who are in recovery or still addicted. We welcome you if you're having problems, are down in the dumps or don't like organised religion. We're not that keen on it either. We offer welcome to those who think the Earth is flat, work too hard, don't work, can't spell, or are here because Granny is visiting and wanted to come to the cathedral. We welcome those who are inked, pierced, both or neither.

We offer a special welcome to those who could use a prayer right now, had religion shoved down their throats as kids or got lost on the Ring Road and wound up here by mistake. We welcome pilgrims, tourists, seekers, doubters and you.

If you are roaming around the heart of England, a trip to see this building of reconciliation will improve your day no end.

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1. I am not a practicing Christian, but I do feel a sense of something as I enter religious buildings (whatever the faith).