The curse of the cross
March 6, 2007
Recently, while practicing my Christian right to pray, I happened upon the Christopher Wren Chapel. Doors open and a prospective tour in progress, I couldn’t help but startle the nubile youths by exclaiming, “Eek Gads! The cross!” Everybody has their cross to bear, but it is no longer true for the Wren Chapel.
p. Many College students might not realize it, but lately there has been shadow where the glorious cross once stood. A colleague of mine remarked, “I don’t even know how large it was. Actually, I never noticed it.” For those still uncertain of its beauty, it is a six by four foot cross made of pure Tyranium and our Lord has cubic zirconium jewels for eyes (the masterpiece now hangs over our dear president’s bed).
p. Now I understand that controversy surrounds this topic (mostly among generous alumni who make up our endowment and local community councils), and rarely would I take it upon myself to write an argumentative editorial. However, I feel, as an informed denizen of the College, I must expound upon my findings. Allow me to put two and two together for you.
p. Feeling hot? Or feeling cold? Most Williamsburg residents can’t decide. Late January, I witnessed a warm front that inspired daffodils to bloom in front of the University Center only for them to be frozen the next day. Early February, a cold front wiped the snot from student’s noses to their sleeves, as the Crim Dell was frozen an inch thick. We all watched in awe of the flash of snowfall we received, but were dismayed when a blizzard that left New York six feet buried in snow, left us with rain. Why were we spared from such similar joy? This question came to my mind when I witnessed another scholarly friend of mine attempt to walk across the frozen Crim Dell, only to soak himself from head to toe eight feet from success. Why, if it was frozen, did he fall in?
p. Some ex-presidential candidates would like you to believe it is “global warming.” If that were the case, though, why was our winter so cold? And so late? As an esteemed employee of Colonial Williamsburg remarked, “We get the strangest weather.”
p. The answer seems so obvious now, as though we are in the calm before the storm. There is one clear connection: no cross and strange weather. Woe on man; the judgment of God is upon us.
p. Now, I haven’t fulfilled my religious studies GER, but I did watch “Prince of Egypt.” I can tell you that this is no test; we are experiencing the Ten Plagues of our time. Notice the swamps have been especially putrid lately? Or that the Caf isn’t up to snuff anymore? This is all part of a grander scheme. Believe me, the worst is yet to come. Locusts, toads, flaming babies? All could very well rain superfluous regret on us at any moment.
p. If you haven’t followed the cross controversy lately, I hope that this article will sway your belief. This isn’t an issue of politics or anything petty. Our endowment may rise or fall, but what is most important is that we put the cross back into Wren, and hopefully prevent a severe smiting.
p. Wren’s been burned down three times before. Don’t make God burn it again.
p. __Daniel Wolfe is a freshman at the College.__