Cromwell's Ely

Cathedral's are some of the most magnificent structures in our physical world, the are just big enough to be beyond our natural comprehension of size and stature, and so we are left breathless and overtaken. Yet, on the inside they are adorned with images and designs of the highest calling that dare to tell the entire romance between God and Man in every single stroke and cast a vision into His kingdom through every pane of colored glass.

This trip to Cromwell's Ely I found something new. I was having the first hints of a hard week sent my direction and so my mind, in an attempt to reconcile my own structural integrity, imagined how disappointed I would be if we got there and the entire structure were covered with scaffolding revealing the deficient endurance and insufficient determination of such an edifice. While I stood there and fixed my gaze upon the stones, I realized that many different parts had been replaced by new stone and while I cognitively assented to the philosophical issues of material composition and the problem of Theses' ship, I delighted in the thought of new stone being able to bare the burden of the greater whole. Not just a stone for stone replacement, but a strategic and precise placement of support, exactly where it is needed most. Then I imagined how the masons, in their service to this place, must have felt at some point when they found themselves contributing to the betterment of something magnificent. What a gift to be able to participate in the life of some thing so beautiful, for both King and country. Yet, the old stone communicates something profound to the new stone. (I'll have to think about that some more, but I bet it is all in Plato, or at least Lewis' Till We Have Faces

While I prepared for the service to begin...

I found a little book with a sticker on it, and this book was in the most unlikely of places. It was a guest book. Not just any guest book, but a very elite log of those who have been held captive in the Tower by the evil one eyed monster that controls the current trajectory of our culture. So I signed my name in it...

How's that for an analogy, metaphor, allegory or whatever else it should actually be classified. Can you guess what I signed? How about who the monster was? Maybe what the tower was?

I'll give you a hint...