I went to Canterbury for this year's Good Friday devotion. The cathedral there was founded in 597 and is the seat of the Archbishop of Canterbury, the primary bishop in England and the symbolic head of the Anglican Communion, which currently boasts 85 million members worldwide. In 1170, Thomas Becket, the 41st Archbishop of Canterbury was assassinated in the cathedral by royal four knights owing to an ongoing political row. Becket was canonised in 1173. His shrine in the cathedral, built in 1220, was the focus of a popular mediaeval pilgrimage, memorialised in Chaucer’s The Canterbury Tales (1387-1400). The shrine was destroyed in 1540 during the Dissolution of the Monasteries. An interesting connecting aside, Holy Trinity Parish Church, Dartford had a chapel dedicated to Becket used by pilgrims travelling from London via Rochester. My trip was not so much a day’s pilgrimage along pilgrims’ way as much as it was an hour’s drive down the A2. Considering the content of Chaucer's tales and where the participants were headed, I cannot help but marvelling at how easily the sacred and profane intermingle in a way that seems to contradict many current representations of authentic humanity.
Becket with Henry II: Wikipedia
Pilgrims' way via Rochester: thinklink
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