The Norfolk coastal village of Happisburgh was one of Arthur Conan Doyle's haunts. He used to stay at Happisburgh's Hill House Inn and I imagine him writing as he reflectively looked out to sea from the top floor. Whilst at the inn he was inspired to write the Sherlock Holmes story "The Dancing Men" (See here for more). In that story Doyle captures the atmosphere of the landscape of this part of Norfolk with the following passage:
...there was much around us to interest us, for we were
passing through as singular a countryside as any in England, where a few
scattered cottages represented the population of today, while on every hand
enormous square towered churches bristled up from the flat green landscape and
told of the glory and prosperity of old East Anglia. At last the violet rim of
the German ocean [The North Sea] appeared over the green edge of the Norfolk
coast and the driver pointed with his whip to two old brick and timber gables
which projected from a grove of trees.
"That's Ridling Thorpe Manor" said he.
The view of Ridling Thorpe Manor may have been inspired by Happisburgh Manor which can be seen in this picture which I took telescopically from the top of Happisburgh lighthouse....
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| Happisburgh manor |
Those enormous square towered wool financed churches Doyle speaks of is typified by Happisburgh church which can be seen in the first picture above. One can also get a glimpse of The German Ocean (Nowadays called The North Sea) on the top left side of my picture.
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| Inside Happisburgh church
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The east end of the two aisles may have once been chantries reserved for the wool merchants who helped finance the church, but today at the end of the north aisle we find a colourful postwar stained glass window depicting a romantic and chivalrous looking medieval warrior with sword and bright armour. This window is a memorial to the brave men and heroes who fought in WWII and lost their lives fighting for freedom. Right next to this striking memorial, as my picture below shows, we can see that other archetypical hero who died that we may all have freedom; it is of course a crucifix of Jesus the Messiah
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| East end of the North aisle |
Moving over to the end of the south aisle we find a niche with a statue of Mary the mother of Jesus. This is appropriate as the church is dedicated to St Mary.
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| At east end of the South aisle |
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I was unexpectedly moved by the contrast between the dedications of these two sacred spaces. Unbidden, thoughts came into my mind that were a surprise to me. I've been brought up in a strongly reformation tradition, a culture which tends to look askance at the Catholic status of Mother Mary as if that status might just be a little too close to idolatry for comfort. But as I sat in one of the pews and contrasted the very different celebrations at the ends of North and South aisles I had an inkling as to what was behind the age old Catholic veneration St Mary.
The north aisle places before us a daunting ideal of heroism, an ideal which we may feel enjoined, pressured even, to emulate. It's the kind of heroism spoken of in Romans 5:6ff. That passage tells us about how challenging it is to die for the righteous let alone for those who make themselves enemies. Many of us doubt (and that includes me) we could ever emulate this ideal, an ideal often expected of men in war. So if we feel unable to rise to a challenge that is a qualification for conditional love and acceptance we can leave behind the north aisle and seek the mercy and comfort of a mother's unconditional love which we find in the south aisle; St Mary with her welcoming open hands and look of love. This response is very understandable. But though the public rendition of Christianity communicated by some preachers is far too intimidating and presents a moral bar too high for the likes of us, that is not the message I read into Romans 5:5-11 and Romans 8:14ff. In this context it is no surprise that the aspect of love yearned for and symbolized by the very feminine figure of St Mary has somehow come adrift from the Godhead.
