The Mechelen Clock

From all of Mechelen, Belgium, the Sint-Romboutskathedraal (St. Rombold's Cathedral) tower is visible. It's brick and mortar structure stretches 97,38 meters into the sky, protectively standing guard over the city and demanding awe and adoration. Sitting in a little alcove cafe overshadowed by the tall cathedral tower, we listened as the story of the Mechelen clock was almost reverently revealed to us.

On a cold, snowy morning fifty years ago, the city of Mechelen was awakened to a thud that was said to resound for miles around. When the inhabitants emerged to investigate, they found that their huge, beloved clock had fallen from the cathedral clock tower and was now lying face-down in the snow, silenced, no longer ticking with the heartbeat of life.
Since that morning, fifty years ago, the city of Mechelen has been without the uniting timekeeper and the cathedral tower has been left faceless.

And yet, fifty years later, sitting in the shadow of the bare clock tower, I am learning that the metronomical ticks have not been completely silenced. The two young women that I was sitting with explain that, even half a century later, the city folk are still discussing whether or not to put the clock back into its rightful place. On one hand, they tell me that they long for the comfort of the clock face watching over them, yet, on the other hand, they are fearful that the clock will fall again once it is put back in place.

I think that the story of the clock parallels the story of faith here in Belgium. As the tower clock was once raised high above the city, so also was belief in God embraced by the people. Yet, as the clock came crashing down one dark winter morning, people placed their hope in other things and their weakened faith came crashing down. Now, religion has become faceless, lying buried and muffled in the snow.

However, though muffled, it has not yet been silenced! Even in this time of uncertainty, the battle over whether or not to put the centerpiece back where it belongs is still being fought.

As these two young women whom I had met two weeks ago during our street evangelism event were sharing with me their hometown and little pieces of their lives, it became strikingly clear to me that the battle is still being fought in the hearts of the people. Though they desperately long to return the face of hope to their cathedral tower, they are paralyzed by the fear that it will come crashing down again. What they are not realizing, though, is that the heartbeat of God within each of us, just like the ticking of time, cannot ever be stopped. The only element of it that we can adjust is where we place it in our own lives. Do we raise high above us on a cathedral tower or do we leave it face down in the frozen snow?