Westminster Abbey is a beautiful Anglican church in London, England, that I have had the privilege of visiting — and participating in services at — several times. The church is large, beautiful designed, and impressive, the site of royal coronations and weddings. Ultimately, however, it serves to point its attendees towards the God they have come to worship.
The exterior of the building is imposing, yet beautiful. Mainly designed in the Gothic style, the exterior is tall and large, with flying buttresses flanking the outside. The main door is on the west side, flanked by the West Towers. Both the flying buttresses and the towers draw the viewer’s eye up, figuratively towards Heaven. In this way, they are the introductory invitation to enter a contemplative space, reminding the human viewer of his smallness and God’s grandeur. Just above the West Door stand sculptures of ten modern martyrs, reminding the viewer of the privilege it is to enter this space and worship freely, the sacrifice and faithfulness the believer is called to — even to the point of death — and the rich heritage of the Church body.
As a eucharistic church, following the Anglican tradition, the altar is central. In the case of Westminster Abbey, its centrality is quite literal — the High Altar is at the church’s crossing. The altar is grand and golden, with a depiction of the Last Supper painted onto it. As Richard Kieckheffer notes in Theology in Stone, “The presence of an altar, strangely unbloodied, as the focal point in a church is the most potent visible reminder of the sacrificial foundation of eucharist that was of basic importance to the earliest generation of Christians” (67). Westminster’s altar, is, indeed, this most potent visible reminder, literally depicting the Eucharist while capturing the attention of anyone entering the church. Interestingly, this altar, a symbol of sacrifice as Kieckheffer notes, is also the site of the coronation of England’s monarch. Such a setting serves as a reminder of God’s authority over the crown, of course, but also, perhaps of the sacrifice necessary of the monarch for their country. Just as Jesus, the Eternal King, sacrificed his very life for his people, so too is the monarch reminded, in this most sacred setting, of the sacrifice that may be required of them in their own regal position, a mere shadow of God’s own reign.
Westminster Abbey is also designed as a processional space. Longitudinal in structure, as one passes through the West Door, one begins a long journey to the altar, through a rood screen, through the quire, to the very heart of the Church. In doing so, one follows in the footsteps of centuries of believers — priests, royalty, saints, and ordinary people of yesterday and today. This reinforces the shared journey of the Christian life like no other. Kieckheffer notes that “the procession can be effective as symbol only if it is first effective as experienced reality. It serves as a sign of spiritual process only if it rouses worshipers from ordinary consciousness by its sheer dramatic force” (27). This is certainly true of Westminster Abbey, and I have experienced it myself firsthand. In 2017, I participated in Westminster Abbey’s Palm Sunday service. The entire congregation began outside in the church’s courtyard, holding palm crosses. The priests began the procession, passing through the people and into the church. The entire congregation followed them, through the doors, through the screen, through the quire, and towards the altar. In this way, the church’s long structure allowed us to mirror Christ’s own procession into Jerusalem. We shared with Christ, and each other, a journey that would ultimately point towards Christ’s death and resurrection, and our salvation.
Westminster Abbey is a profound space. It is designed to point those who enter it — or even see it — towards Christ. It physically points up, through its grand, Gothic style. Its altar commands the attention of all who enter, reminding them of Christ’s sacrifice and their place at his table, to partake of the Eucharist. It is a processional space, where every believer, royal or common, priest or lay, is able to participate in the spiritual journey. It is truly an impactful space, a work of art in itself, and a symbol of something much grander.