For whom the bell tolls

Is a centuries old tradition still relevant today?

Where I live, the call to prayer is rung out by church bells chiming like morning sparrows eager to get their day started.

It is a soothing sound. Perhaps as I associate a day of rest with the ringing of church bells.

Curious to learn more about the bells, I visited the parish and found myself one warm afternoon climbing up the old wooden stairway towards the steeple.

Creaking wooden stairs lead me up through an attic. Sunlight filtered through the rafters and revealed a collection of spider webs.

The steep narrow wooden stairways reminded me of the many lighthouses I have climbed to photograph.

Reaching the bell tower, I was rewarded with a stunning view over the cityscape.

This particular bell tower consists of 4 bells. The lightest bell weighs in at 400kg and increase in size to the big bertha weighing in at an impressive 900kg. As big as it is, this is a relative baby in comparison to the St Michael’s 9-ton bell downtown.

But it’s not only on Sunday that these bells chime. They chime to tell the time too, although it’s a very different tone. The smaller bell chimes every 15 minutes. One strike for quarter past, 2 for half past, 3 for quarter to and then 4 chimes for the hour followed by the actual hour. So 12 o’ clock would be the 4 chimes for on the hour followed by 12 rings of the bell. It is quite unusual as the bells normally just ring on the hour. Fortunately, it is automated, although still driven by this wind up clock originally installed in 1928 when this church was built:

A watchmaker comes by once a week to check that the time is ticking accurately. During the setting of the clocks for daylight saving, he comes by at night to change the time so that when residents wake up, the clock tower already shows the corrected time and citizens go about their daily tasks, mostly blissfully unaware of the quiet magic that has occurred overnight.

When the original bells are set into place on installation, they have to be tuned so they do not conflict with other church bells chiming in the area. So they have their own tome.

The neighboring church, the Matthias’ mighty brass bell dates back to 1798 and has been in daily use ever since.  

While I was up in the bell tower taking pictures the bell stuck the hour. I was so absorbed by taking photographs and being present in the moment that I was jolted by the sudden ring. Curiously, the sound wasn’t that loud due to the incredible design of the bell shape directing the sound below and away from me.

I thought of all the people far below that hear the chime connected by an invisible bond of sound and thought of the poem by John Donne:

For Whom the Bell Tolls

No man is an island,

Entire of itself,

Each is a piece of the continent,

A part of the main,

If a clod be washed away by the sea,

Europe is the less.

As well as if a manor of thine own

Or of thine friend’s were.

Each man’s death diminishes me,

For I am involved in mankind.

Therefore, send not to know

For whom the bell tolls,

It tolls for thee.

“For whom does the bell toll?” is the imaginary question of a man who hears a funeral bell and asks about the person who has died. Donne's answer to this question is that, because none of us stands alone in the world, each human death affects all of us. Every funeral bell, therefore, “tolls for thee.”

This centuries old tradition still bears such relevance today and I feel connected to my fellow man each time I hear these incredible bells chime. It gives me pause in my busy day and draws me back to the present moment. It is comforting to know that no matter what happens today, the bells will chime again tomorrow and life will go on.

If you enjoyed this story consider upgrading your subscription. It will help me keep the stories coming and this platform ad free.

If you don’t want to go paid, you can still help me by sharing this story with a friend or foe. Likes also tell me you are here.