Chartres cathedral: darkness and light..reflections

I have come to the conclusion that the builders of Chartres knew how to create a space which, though apparently very empty, was also full of some kind of energy, which has a strange ability to affect the psyche. I have come to believe that this is due in part to the proportions of the building which set up vibratory patterns which somehow help us ‘tune in’ to our higher selves and make us feel good. I have also come to believe that the darkness is deliberate and not just the result of centuries of grime! I believe the darkness quietens our spirits and helps us to become aware of the coloured light which filters through the stained glass and bathes the darkness in dappled twilight. I am not the first to recognise that this is a transforming light which has a kind of alchemical affect on us. Scholars use the word ‘liminality’ to describe the mystics’ experience of being on the threshold between two worlds, the seen and the unseen; of being in a ‘between’place such as on a beach between sea and land, or at a time like twilight between night and day. These, in Celtic and other cultures are traditionally the places and times for special experiences, when the ‘Beyond’ comes very close.Chartres Cathedral was built over seven hundred years ago, yet today, without any ecclesiastical encouragement whatsoever, it still attracts thousands of pilgrims from many faiths and from none. Undoubtedly they come to admire the sculptures, stained glass and other awesome features such as the towers and massive flying buttresses. But I believe that, consciously or unconsciously, they come for the ambience, the atmosphere. As they wander round this specially proportioned, darkened space, the vibrations work gently on their subtle bodies.They are bathed in the dappled light which has the power to tune the aura andare led towards the experience of being on the threshold of the unseen world.This power to affect so many people so profoundly was brought home to me two years ago when I visited Chartres. I decided to just wander round and see what came to me. I had hardly begun when I met a couple from Norfolk outside the West door, we got chatting and, realising I knew about the building, they asked me to show them round.Inside I started to point out the arches, the cross ribbed vaults and the stained glasswindows. As I did so, the wife became less interested and wandered off on her own into the South transept. We followed her at a distance and noticed that shestarted to shake all over, she then put her head in her hands and began to cry. Herhusband put his arm round her shoulder and she continued to sob convulsively.Then she calmed down and said in a whisper, half to herself and half to us, ‘It’sabout darkness, isn’t it? This place is about darkness!’ She had had a deep experience which she found very hard to describe. It was almost beyond description, yet it explained to me more than anything what the original intention
of the builders had been. They had wanted to help all those who entered, to open up to the mystical experience of being on the threshold of the unseen world and of getting in touch with the innermost Self. They knew the profound paradox, that it is in a place of emptiness which is also full, in a darkness which is also light, that this is most likely to happen. The words of T. S. Eliot came to mind:

‘I said to my soul, be still, and let the dark come upon you Which shall be the darkness of 'God'….. So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing’.