I too share this concern, and I confess that I feel a deep unease when I see Durham Cathedral presented as though it were a 1990s nightclub. I do not say this from any dislike of music, dancing or celebration. There is a place for all these things in the richness and joy of human life. But surely there must also be places which we deliberately set apart for God. Durham Cathedral is not simply a magnificent medieval building, nor merely part of our national heritage. It is holy ground. For centuries, people have crossed its threshold carrying their joys and sorrows, their hopes and fears, their prayers and their grief. Within its walls they have knelt before God, received the Sacraments, mourned their dead, given thanks for life and sought that silence in which the voice of God may sometimes be heard. Here rests St Cuthbert, a man whose life was shaped by prayer, solitude and an extraordinary desire for God. Here too we honour St Bede, who devoted his life to learning, truth and holiness. Their memory is not simply historical. It belongs to the spiritual character of this sacred place. Perhaps this is what troubles me most. In an increasingly noisy and restless world, we desperately need places which remind us that not everything has to entertain us. We need places where we can simply become still; places which lift our eyes beyond ourselves towards eternity. There are countless places where we may dance, celebrate and enjoy music. But there are comparatively few places where, after centuries of prayer, we may enter the silence, kneel before God and know within the depths of our soul: This is holy ground.