Chapel

CRUCIFIXION

Our colour section shows a picture of the Chapel crucifix, made by John Brown. On March 7th he gave an address at morning Chapel on the subject of the crucifixion:

Easter is approaching, and Christians' thoughts turn to the events that happened on Good Friday. Since I made this cross which is hanging up here, it seems perfectly reasonable that I should speak about it, but first I want you to ask yourselves why so many churches do have crosses hanging up in them or fastened to the wall or on rood screens. Why do they have these things? Is it to produce a sense of guilt in people, to make them feel contrite for the murder of an all-forgiving man so long ago? Some people, emotional people in particular, are moved to tears when they see these crosses with a figure of Christ on them. I know, because I have seen them.

In the past there have been many sculptures and paintings of this crucifixion, all over the western world. Historically, the Church was the principal patron of the arts, and artists were asked to make these things in order to illustrate the Bible stories, so that people who were illiterate could understand them — a kind of visual aid, if you like.

Today I would like to mention three artists in particular. The first is Duccio, a very early Florentine painter. His paintings had tremendous dignity, and one of his Crucifixions has this dignity, because it is so simple, like so much of early Italian Renaissance art. In contrast, Grunewald, working in Germany many years later, produced a crucifixion showing a macabre image of some carcass pegged out to rot. It is horrific in the extreme. Rubens, later again, painted a crucifixion, and I must say it doesn't turn me on in the least bit, in any direction. It looks like an overfed lump of a man with seriously high cholesterol level, more likely to die of cardiac arrest than of being crucified.

I would love to hear these artists defend themselves from my bits of criticism. Duccio, being Italian, might well say, "Absolutely right; my paintings are simple". Grunewald, being German, would say, "Ja, mine is without doubt a carcass hanging to rot". But Rubens, being the suave, urbane man that he was, would probably pat me on the head and say "Run along, young man; you're out of your depth".

Now I want to turn to my cross. Mine is meant to be thought-provoking. Mine speaks of swirling energy that begins in the centre and explodes outwards towards the extremities. Only then, when you approach the extremities, do I permit myself to hint at identifiable reality, with suggestions of hands and feet. I think that realism puts limitations on expression. One should be able to express an idea through the language of form, in the same way as music can through the language of sound. Mine says very little about death. Mine is concerned with the explosive spread of energetic Christian ideals, sparked off by this man of immense charisma. In the eyes of the establishment of his day he was a nobody, but they must have recognised his threat to their cosy world.

Now, a brief word about the actual making of this cross. It is made of small fragments of blue glass, cut from fairly large sheets which came from Jarrow. I stuck these onto perspex, using an adhesive which doesn't actually set perfectly hard: I felt that if the breeze here in Chapel moved it, I didn't want the bits of glass to go pinging off. It wasn't easy to find an adhesive which was compatible with both glass and perspex. There are four threads holding it up, each with a breaking strain of thirty pounds. They are mono-filament, and they are photo-degradable, so I don't know how long it will stay up there without due inspection and possible renewal of the threads.

The cross was made and hung up to correspond with the time of a confirmation service. I was not able to attend myself, but I did come in very early the next morning to see if it was still hanging there, because I did have this awful dread that it would come cascading down and possibly decapitate the Archbishop. I wondered whether it would have been put down as an act of God, or merely the fault of J. C. B.

Not so long ago, I was invited to make a real livelooking, or real dead-looking, figure of Christ on the cross, for a high church in York. I tell you this because of the impact it had on me. I was busy making this thing and modelling it, and since it was supposed to be representational and not just symbolic, I remember working very hard on the anatomy of the Christ figure. All of a sudden, and without any warning, I had this awful feeling of how macabre and utterly cruel is that method of killing people. Of course, this cruel method of killing people isn't used nowadays, but are we in our own way as cruel? I am thinking of those people who are captured and put into some place of keeping, and their loved ones never find out where they are.-In that respect, our cruelty is just as bad as the physical pain imposed on somebody being crucified.

CHAPEL NOTES - 1990

One of my constant aims as Chaplain is to try and create a sense that the Chapel is a unique building within the School. It is not a classroom or a rehearsal room or a concert hall or a theatre. Rather is it a building which should seek to convey, both materially and spiritually, something of die life and love of God. I will begin this year's notes with a reference to the material, and end them with a reference to the spiritual. The appearance of the Chapel has been greatly enhanced this year by the gift of an altar frontal from the Friends of St. Peter's School. It is a very fine and beautiful all-seasons frontal which has been made by a group of parents working under the leadership of Buff Reid. The gift" from the Friends included a matching set of eucharistic vestments which are worn at our three School Eucharists each term. (A photograph of die frontal and vestments appears in this edition of The Peterite.) I wish to record here my gratitude to die F.S.P.S. for a gift which will serve many generations of Peterites.

We have been very fortunate this year with our visitors. In March, the preacher at Choral Evensong was Bishop Trevor Huddleston. His address is printed elsewhere in diis edition of The Peterite. It was a rare privilege for us to have him as our preacher. He inspired many on die Sunday evening and was able to stay to speak to the whole school in Chapel on the Monday morning. The Archbishop of York, Dr. John Habgood, presided and preached at our Confirmation Service in February. Other visitors have included the Archdeacon of York, the Venerable George Austin, who preached at Choral Evensong during the Christmas Term; Canon Robin Fletcher, the Rural Dean of York, who gave die address at our Remembrance Day Service in November; and the Reverend Stuart Taylor, the Director of the Bloxham Project. We again had a stimulating and challenging week's visit from Friar Barry Orford of die Community of the Resurrection at Mirfield.

Good, internally-produced Chapel weeks have been led by the School's Amnesty International group and by John Brown, our Director of Art. J. C. B. gave a series of addresses which focussed our attention on the Chapel cross which he created (photograph elsewhere) and on die theme of crucifixion and resurrection in art. The Leavers' Service on the penultimate morning of die academic year is die last occasion when the School, as it is dien constituted, meets togedier in Chapel. It is, I hope, a significant occasion for those who are leaving, for it is in Chapel, more dian in any odier place, mat die whole community meets togedier as a School. This year the address was given by Peter Taylor — unique among the staff for having been Housemaster for two groups of this year's leavers (those from School House and those from Dronfield).

The Choir have sung more frequently in Chapel this year, and an increasing number of instrumentalists provide die introductory music for our weekday Chapel Services. I am grateful to them, and particularly to Andrew Wright, for all that the musicians contribute to our Chapel Services, and especially to the Carol Services at Advent and Christmas, the Commemoration Service and the School Eucharists. They also made a most significant contribution to our share in the revised Epiphany Procession at the Minster in January.

In our charitable giving diis year we have supported three organisations: Open Door (a York-based counselling service for young people); the Yorkshire Kidney Research Fund; and the Church of England Children's Society.

I began these notes by mentioning the importance of the material appearance of die Chapel. But die material aspect of such a building, what it looks like, is only half of my concern. Equally important is what the building feelj like: does it help to evoke the spiritual within us? During the summer term, from 9.30 p.m. to 9.50 p.m. on one evening each week, a group of staff and pupils have met togedier in Chapel to share a period of silence. The Chapel is not an easy building in which to be quiet. But the silence we have experienced has been deep, and has been an opportunity for peace, quiet and stillness in our very busy and often noisy lives. The silence has, for many of us, shown the truth of that ancient Egyptian proverb: "It is good sometimes to sit in holy silence. It gives a holiday to our senses and it helps our souls to hear''. What is Chapel for it it is not to help our souls to hear the voice of God?