Escaping the Madness in England- Part 4

On Pilgrimage Through Canterbury

Ruins at Canterbury Cathedral

Sure, we’ve had our ups and downs in twenty five years of marriage, but these events were not on my mind on our trip through England. I was truly escaping the madness of all that my phone told me is cracking the foundations and dividing my home country, the United States of America. We had left Bath by train and positioned ourselves in London near the train station as our new hub.

The main thing that set London apart from Bath were the more modern buildings and the concentration of people. Most of them were dressed to the nines in suits and fast fashion, but here and there were poor street musicians stationed on street corners.

On our way to take “the tube” or subway back to the train station for Canterbury, we passed by a woman with a mess of tangled hair sitting in front of a small grocery store. She had stacked her suitcases around herself and sat in the middle, huddled under the comfort of a blanket. Billy offered her some of his loose pounds, but she put up her hand and shook her head, clearly not able to speak English. Despite having no home, she either had enough to survive or she had some pride and didn’t want any hand-outs. America is much the same, we have our share of rich, poor, and immigrants—legal or those who wish to be.

Our arrival in Canterbury took us back in time to medieval England. The gate still stands, the same portal that pilgrims took to find health, wealth, and happiness from visiting the tomb and holy relics of St. Thomas à Becket.

The medieval gate to Canterbury still stands

Statue of Geoffrey Chaucer, writer of Canterbury Tales

Before visiting the Canterbury Cathedral, we took a byways tour by “punting” through the River Stour. We hired a guide who pushed us along the pleasant current to the end of our tour at a lock, which was used to lower or raise the canal like an elevator.

Lock on the River Stour

The Canterbury Cathedral, our next stop on this pilgrimage through England, characterized itself as the seat of compassion and hospitality for those who seek relief.

One of the stained glass images depicted the woman who washed Jesus’ feet with her tears. In the original scene, Jesus had entered a religious leader’s home but was not given proper hospitality—no one had washed his feet. A woman who was considered very sinful and rejected by her community felt both the holiness and compassion of her Messiah, which set her on her knees in tearful worship. If that wasn’t enough, she wiped the tears that had stained Jesus’ mud-caked feet with her hair, a sign of love and devotion.

This world is but a thoroughfare of woe,
And we are pilgrims passing to and fro;
Death is the end of every worldly sore.
And after this, he told them yet much more
To that effect, all wisely to exhort
The people that they should find some comfort.
—Geoffrey Chaucer, "A Knight's Tale" from Canterbury Tales

Outside the cathedral, near the garden, we discovered a room filled with names. Each name was labeled under a year. Some had ages, denoting the shortness of their lives. All these people were undocumented immigrants who tried to cross the waters surrounding England and had drowned. One name in 2025 really tugged at my heart—Mansur—he lost his life at only two-years old. He had no last name. Maybe he was an orphan.

The plaque above them gave the reason for the room. These people died in honor, to seek freedom. Somewhere it has been said that the desire for freedom resides in the heart of every person. No one wants to be trapped in the midst of war, famine, and persecution. Everyone in these situations would seek to find a place of peace and safety where they can live and flourish. May it be so. Come, Lord Jesus. May His Kingdom come, may His will be done on earth as it is in heaven.

More Escaping the Madness in England posts…

Part 1 - Basking in Bath

Part 2 - Wandering in Wells

Part 3 - Rambling Through the Cotswalds

Part 5 - Lingering in London