

The sense in which we cannot preserve this quality of holiness is akin to the sense in which we cannot step into the same river twice. If he did not think the occasion was worth its weight in glory, he would not want to try to capture its flavour and its essence for all time. And yet, like the Renaissance painter, the photographer or the young man in his wedding suit clutching his cassette recorders is seeking to portray holiness. In practical terms, when we come back to the man with his camcorder at the christening, we must ask what exactly is going on, and what is the meaning of the attempt to photograph a sacrament? The whole event is a sort of spiritual oxymoron. A unique spiritual moment is, by definition, something which we cannot preserve for ever. When a visitor goes armed with his camera or camcorder to a shrine he or she is trying to capture for ever something of unique, religious value. And this too is captured on the camcorder. They come for a glimpse of heaven but what they get is bustling mundanity. They come because they want to see the holy place and you know they come with expectations of vast silence in an awesome space. In every one of them there are signs saying This Is A Holy Place, but the clamour of visitors looks like profanity. The same problem arises when we consider the cathedrals. People are more casual, jocular, talkative and less reverent in church these days and yet you know that what they are trying to capture on their cassettes and videos is precisely that uniquely spiritual, special, holy and other sense of the sacramental moment.
