CATHEDRAL

Last night I watched a bit of news coverage of the celebration of the restoration of the Notre Dame Cathedral de Paris. I'm not Catholic, in fact, I've never been much interested in organized religion in general. And full disclosure, my husband Michael is a fallen away Catholic. But seeing the restored Notre Dame was surprisingly emotional for me.

At first, I remembered when the Notre Dame was engulfed in flames five years ago. Parisians, and the world, watched in sadness and horror as one of France's most beautiful and iconic structures burned.

Then I was reminded of the times when Michael & I were privileged to travel in Europe. We were often drawn to cathedrals. Not exclusively, mind you – we saw plenty of museums, historic sites, standing stones and pubs. But there is something about a cathedral . . .

First of all, there's the building's architecture: it's amazing to me that hundreds of years ago, people could build such a huge, complicated stone structure without cranes or other power tools. While we did not visit the Notre Dame de Paris (861 yrs old), a few of the ones we did visit were (depending upon how one calculates start/completion dates): Chartres Cathedral in France, 722 yrs old; the York Minster in England 804 yrs old; St. Bartholomew Priory Church in London, 901 yrs old; Ely Cathedral in England 941, yrs old. In addition to the massive structures, artisans skillfully hand-carved beautifully detailed statues of saints as well as gargoyles and other decorative features. Stained glass artists created breathtaking windows, all without modern tools.

Second, that feeling of connection to the past. To enter an ancient cathedral you walk up stone stairs worn smooth by the feet of millions of people who walked those same steps. Over the centuries they walked the same floors. They were edified by the same soaring, vaulted ceilings, and by the stories depicted in the stained glass windows. All over hundreds of years – so many people before us.

Once inside, you notice the quiet. There is a particular quality to this quiet; it can feel both intimate and infinite at the same time.

Light filters through stained glass windows. In an afternoon, a patch of colored light might briefly decorate a far wall, or a column.

In England, we would try to visit when the choir performs Evensong, which marks the end of day. Anyone can enter the cathedral or church, and take a seat in the pew. Some come to pray. Some come to reflect or remember a loved one who is gone. Some come simply to be held in the peace of the space and the sound of the choir. Choral music is especially beautiful in those spaces. The long tones of the music rise and the sound lingers and swirls in the space above.

After we'd been to Europe, we found a small cathedral near where we live in southwestern Ohio. St. Mary's Cathedral Basilica of the Assumption in Covington, Kentucky is just an hour or so away. Built in 1895, it is not ancient but it has the feeling of the old-world cathedrals. It's definitely worth your time to see it.

Or, in the alternative, you can find a similarly edifying experience walking into a forest. Tree trunks form the forest cathedral columns; the leafy canopy above is the soaring vaulted ceiling. Sunshine filters through leaves creating shifting patterns of light everywhere. And finally, the forest birds sing their evensong to send you home.