I heard a story once about a mother on a walk with her children. They walked the same route each day, and one day, noticed construction beginning on a familiar block. The son stopped mid-stroll…
“Mama,” he gestured, tugging her hand, “look at that man building.”
They stopped, watching the man lay brick after brick.
“What are you building?” the boy asked the man, catching his attention.
“A wall,” the man responded in brief pause before bending his head back to work. The family lingered and watched, and then continued on their way.
The next day, they passed the building site and watched another builder at his work.
“What are you building?” the boy called out.
“A church,” the craftsman said, craning his head to check the level of a board, then continuing on. They watched awhile, then walked along their way.
The next day, they noticed a third man at his work. This man smiled as he stood beside a sawhorse, and a grin brushed across the boy’s face while he watched.
“What are you building?” the boy asked. The quick-sighted man turned, beamed at them, and said,
“A Cathedral. From this foundation, walls will soar to the sky and arches will vault hearts heavenward. I am here trimming wood, just one among hundreds and thousands who will work in this place. My children’s children will worship here. It will take generations, and I won’t live to see it completed… It will be glorious. ” He paused, seeing past them, then adjusted his gleaming gaze and returned to his work.
I share this story to contribute to the cathedral, offering my writing here on Substack to behold glory and to offer my powers to it, engaging in something beyond pixels and text — stories. Stories are the stained glass windows of life. They let light through, and they shape light through color and fragment to convey meaning and form us as we gaze their way. I write here to gesture to the glass, those windows where light shines brightly through. I share this work with others and for others, so that we can grow together and leave our children with meaningful work they can carry on —Cathedral work — not just bricks or books, but the bounty that comes when we behold them and build by their wisdom and light, to become ever more wise and bright.
The image of stories as stained glass windows in a cathedral is profound, beautiful, and one of my favorites. I am so thrilled that you have created this platform to be writing about sacramental stories, Emilie. Looking forward to the future articles you share here!