A wondrous adventure

EDITOR’S NOTE: Cecelia participated in Saint Philip’s UK choral residencies in 2019 and 2022. She was invited to reflect on her experiences and share some of her favorite moments, consider what was important about singing in a cathedral, and reflect on how she grew from the experience.

The first time I went on one of these residencies back in 2019, I was an apprehensive, travel-anxious 12 year-old who had never been abroad. I was inexperienced. I had no idea what to expect. In hindsight, I’m so glad of that. The word to describe the journey was wonder; every day was one, elongated, new experience filled with surprises. I witnessed the extraordinary; the almost-familiar, the unheard-of, and things I’d only ever read about.

Going into this year’s residency, I was an even more apprehensive and travel-anxious 15 year-old, but I also felt like I knew my place in the mild chaos that accompanies all such large ventures. I watched with a knowing grin while several of the new choir members, including my younger sister, went through the same miraculous “first time” as I had three years previously. Yet I continued to be surprised every day by some new experience, or fact, or place.

The cathedrals themselves are truly difficult to give a fair description unless your listener already has some familiarity with huge, ancient buildings. One of the side-effects of growing up in the United States is that I rarely, if ever, get the chance to be inside any building more than a couple hundred years old. Not so in England. Stepping inside Ely Cathedral for the first time, I was sincerely bowled over. It was easily the largest indoor space I’d been in before, and what a building! It was cavernous: huge, soaring arches, jewel-like windows, gilded and gleaming, every detail made with the greatest attention and care.

Then we sang. Another thing difficult to convey properly. The music we sing—anthem, psalm, and canticle; from solo voice to full chorus—was made to be sung in these places. The notes resonate, widen, turn, and echo back again, multiplying our voices, ourselves, by two, then ten, then twenty, flying above the organ’s thunder, until the whole cathedral rings like a single, great bell.

Already I’ve gone on too long, without even mentioning the daily dose of rich culture we received and relished, or the bonds of fellowship that are formed and strengthened amid a group who are given the chance to work so closely together in literal (pardon the pun) harmony. Because of those trips, I can say that I’ve seen Stonehenge, gone punting on the river Cam, climbed the towers of a Welsh castle, and toured the Colosseum. Did I mention that they’re also great chances to linger on after the show is over and see a few other places, as well?

These residencies have been some of the greatest, deepest, most momentous adventures in my life so far, and I choose the word “adventure” very deliberately. Because of them, I’ve seen more, learned more, and become more than I would have ever believed possible.