Houses of the Holy

I grew up in the Roman Catholic Church. My family was faithful and dedicated to the faith, following the liturgical calendar as a guide to the rhythm of our lives. I made my first communion when I was 7 and was confirmed at 11, beginning my spiritual journey and life as a faithful Catholic. I trusted the Church and believed in it as a center for the delicate balance of my life. I've never been a typical Evangelical critic of the Catholic Church and still hold it as special and in high regard. Although, I left the Catholic Church during my college years, I still hold the many memories close to my heart and consider them essential aspects of my spiritual construct.

One of the clearest memories that I have lies in the simplicity of entering any Roman Catholic Church. Unlike many Evangelical and Protestant churches that are reminiscent of entering a concert hall just before the show starts, the Catholic worshiper is greeted with an overwhelming wave of silence. In an almost tangible manifestation, one feels the sense that they are being transformed from the brokenness of natural creation and ushered into the supernatural holiness of God's Kingdom. There is such a reverence for God and respect for His house, that you cannot help but feel the presence of His Spirit emanating from every corner of the richly and ornately decorated structures. The light gleaming from detailed stained glass, paints a visual interpretation of the Gospels that draws you into an almost real-time encounter with the ancient. You are captured and immersed in the holy.

No coffee or food enters the Catholic sanctuary. No idle talk or theological discussion continues from the outer walls. From a very early age, children are not ushered into Sunday School or nurseries, but taught that they are not only welcome, but a necessary part of the Church body. And because of this inclusion, children observe the same silence as their parents. Not from obedient fear, but more from a sense of awe. I still can remember the powerfully ominous aura of silence as we made our way to our regular spot in the church. We were in God's house, and although I fully understood and believed in the complete omnipresence of God, there was something special when we entered our family place of worship.

As I've made my journey from Catholicism through the detailed landscape of the Evangelical and Protestant Church, I've grown to realize that the differences that tend to divide us are not as great as we make them out to be. Most of us seek the same things from life and believe in the same essentials of the same God that all of us worship. Most of our discussions and even arguments can usually rest in the common faith in Christ and hope for the Kingdom He came to fulfill. Our divisions usually stem from the imperfections of man and not the complete perfection of God. Unity transforms. Division holds us captive and leaves us as we have always been.

But the one difference from my Catholic brothers and sisters that stands obvious to me each and every time I enter a Protestant Church lies in just that: entering the church. For I am reminded of something that seems to be missing. I'm reminded of something that captured my young heart as a child and still calls to me as a man. I'm reminded of how easy it is for the follower of Christ to place the emphasis on ourselves and allow it to deviate from God. I'm reminded that our world is loud but our spirits demand quiet. And even amidst the roar of chaos in our culture today, God's volume still rises above. But I am also reminded that our own voices can drown out the most thundering call of God.

Our church buildings are not magical. They hold no powerful energy that rushes through us as we enter the walls that contain our physical worship. I have felt God's presence more tangibly walking on a beach or standing on top of a mountain. But what stands unique is the physical attribution that we designate to our church buildings within our world. For as we spend the millions of dollars and carefully craft each doorway corridor, we make a claim that we make to no other structure: This is God's House. In a world of building man-made Kingdoms, the church is still the one building that we set aside for Him and only Him. Perhaps we would be more aware of that if we left the coffee in the entry way next to our egos. Perhaps we would hear God more clearly as He welcomes us into His house, if we turned our proverbial volumes down and allowed ourselves to be awed by His hospitality. Perhaps we would regain some of that sense of reverence that the Catholic Church still enjoys and find that we are not only in church to experience a good time, but to capture a taste of the holy as well.

A Prayer

Lord, make clear that which remains cloudy.
  Make straight things what seem skewed;
  Bring focus to that which is distorted;
  Create assurance where all seems uncertain;
  Direct that which is unmapped;
  Make clarity in realms of confusion;
  Make targeted things that appear aimless;
  Decide what is postponed;
  Fill what is empty;
  Complete what has been left undone;
  See what is hidden;
  Speak where there is silence;
  Hear where deafness prevails;
  Be where you are not.

Open the doors of my heart and soul, Lord
  to see You as You are.
Let these prayers rise to You and be Your will,
  as my will is for You to be.

Amen

 
 

Avatar and Worship

Yesterday afternoon, my oldest son and I ventured out for some "guy time" and saw Avatar. If you haven't seen the movie yet, let me just say that if you saw the 1990 epic, Dances with Wolves, you already know the basic story line. In fact, one could easily say that it's just a futuristic rip-off in CGI form. Don't get me wrong, Avatar is an amazing and beautiful journey into pure fantasy and was worth the money. It's an escape, which is what most of us need these days. But is there much more to it?

Despite the usual political rhetoric regarding "evil" humans, and how we are too stupid and greedy to avoid destroying ourselves, and eventually other planets, the movie is very enjoyable. But I'll warn you... you may walk out of the movie carrying a burden of humanistic guilt the size of a Mountain Banshee! There's also the whole "Colonists suck, Indians rock" theme going! Avatar also smacks of universalist theology, pantheism and goddess worship, but what can you expect from Hollywood, and the man who arrogantly prides himself on miraculously discovering Jesus' tomb? The plot is very predictable and leaves you with the underlying theme that it is uncool to be Human.

Believe it or not, it is not my intention to slam Avatar. Like I said, I liked the movie and was very entertained, and I usually try and keep political agendas out of the picture. I'm not a film critic, but as with any movie I see, I always try and dissect the underlying theological significance and how it applies to today's culture. After watching Avatar, this wasn't difficult to do. One aspect resonated with me more clearly than any other movie in many years. It's subtle, but definitely there, and is also one of the main objections I had to the movie: the faith and worship of the alien civilization around which the movie revolves.

The Na'vi are a primitive race of aliens that inhabit the planet Pandora. As the movie progresses, you begin to see the lifeblood of this culture, which is its faith in their deity, Eywa. The center of worship is The Tree of Souls, which seems to be the point of spiritual contact with Eywa and the civilization's ancestors. The energy that emanates from this tree, and Eywa, is a living network that carries through all of nature, living creatures and the Na'vi themselves. It's the center of life on Pandora.

The point is, the Na'vi saw their deity and it's power as the center of their lives. Nothing existed independently from their god. To this culture, there was no distinction between faith and life. All aspects of life were united and flowing together, with their god at the center. It was a holistic picture of faith and one of the more beautiful images in Avatar. No, it was not Christian worship and I acknowledge that this movie paints a picture of a false god, and a fantasy god at that. But what I am focusing on, is the simple act of worship within this culture and what I think we can learn from it as believers in Christ.

As I've said before, we live in a very compartmentalized culture with very pluralistic belief systems. One compartment holds our faith. One compartment holds our family. One compartment holds our work, hobbies, friends, etc. Very rarely do we encourage, or even want the elements of our faith intertwining with other compartments of our life. But what would it look like if we did? What would it look like in our churches, if all elements of our lives revolved around our faith communities and the worship of Jesus Christ? What would it be like to see the power of the living God transcending every compartment, until we were left with a holistic picture of life, with God at the center? Everything moved within and intertwined until there was no distinction. No conflicts. No barriers. Just faith in a God that lives within us as Scripture says.

The ancient Hebrews knew this well, and it makes me wonder where we've lost hold of this essential key of worship. In Deuteronomy 6:4-9, God encourages His people in saying "Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God, the LORD is one. Love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. These commandments that I give you today are to be upon your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Write them on the doorframes of your houses and on your gates."

In John 15, Jesus reinforced this essential holistic relationship with God when He said, "I am the vine; you are the branches." Just before this in John 14, He says, "Believe me when I say that I am in the Father and the Father is in me;" Do you see this holistic picture that God has been painting since He first spoke to the people of Israel? God is the essence of all that has life. He lives in us and through us, and gives life to all that is around us. Why should we not then attribute all the aspects of our individual lives to God, and see that He is the object of our worship, not what He has created, but Him who is the creator? Worship as a lifestyle? Not just a Sunday morning ritual? Now that's an alien concept!