"Temple" | Reflection by Sarah Woodford

The dictionary defines “temple” as a holy place, usually a building. To be honest, I wouldn’t consider the church of my childhood a temple, it was simply a church, a place my family went every Sunday to hear a sermon and take communion. The first time I felt like I was in a holy building—in a temple—was in the early 2000s when I visited St. Paul’s Cathedral in London for the first time. The balance and beauty of Christopher Wren’s creation astounded me—especially the dome, gracefully arching up and through the London sky. I often think about that dome, especially in this picture. It was taken after one of the many German bombings of the city in World War II. London was a prime target for Nazi Germany during the war and the constant threat of bombing raids caused many Londoners, especially children, to leave the city and take refuge out in the English countryside. And yet, out of the smoke, destruction, pain, confusion, and fear, St. Paul’s dome still arches through the London sky. In contrast to the transient smoke, it is a solid beacon of perfect beauty, balance, and hope.

That’s how I’d like to define a temple—a building that not only holds the sacred, but also brings the sacred into our world, brick by brick, dome by dome. A holy place that is always reminding us of some greater hope, especially when the world is obscured by the smoke of pain and fear.