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A Thin PlaceFebruary 04, 2007 Fifth Sunday after Epiphany Next week we’ll be receiving a great group of new members into our Christ Church family – perhaps more than thirty – and once again, one of the defining characteristics of these individuals is their age: I’m guessing that from 75 to 80% – or more – are in their 20s and 30s. This demographic has tended to characterize most of the classes of recent memory, which intrigues me, because I would tell you that, as a matter of course, we haven’t specifically targeted this population per se with clever ploys and initiatives. But I’m very glad for the outcome. And yet, this outcome has seemed counterintuitive to me, given our worship space and the liturgy we practice, at least if one goes by what we see on television and listen to church growth experts. Last week I spoke about this in reference to preaching. This morning I want to examine worship more generally; that is, to consider what it is, what it’s for, and why we bother to gather in this rather dramatic space and do the sorts of things we do here. This occurs to me because in each of our readings this morning, three 20- or 30-something men speak about powerful divine encounters. Isaiah, Paul, and Peter all tell of their meeting God, or God meeting them, and setting them on their life paths. In Isaiah’s case, it’s clear that this happened in the temple, no doubt while worshiping. And, it’s a pretty dramatic scene that he describes. Of course, the temple was a very impressive space, designed to inspire awe and reverence. Here’s what happens to Isaiah during worship: he had a great vision; as he says, “I saw the Lord sitting on a throne, high and lofty; and the hem of his robe filled the temple. Seraphs were in attendance above him; each had six wings…the one called to another and said, ‘Holy, Holy, Holy, is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory.’ The pivots shook…the house filled with smoke.”[1] Pretty impressive vision, right? By comparison, imagine something like that happening here, to you, some morning. In Isaiah’s day, the temple had been built as a space to mediate such divine encounter. And, the same might be said for this space as well. Still, have you ever really thought through the implications – that maybe the most important purpose to gathering together and doing the sorts of things we do in here was to mediate an encounter with the sacred order of things? I mean, actually, in real-time, open up a space so that God might speak to us in some form or fashion? No doubt you’ve heard it said that the reason we worship is to praise God. And so we do offer praise. But over the years, I’ve heard preachers a time or two go on and on how God just loves to be praised. Praise, praise, praise – that’s what God wanted from us and it made him just so happy, which, quite frankly, makes God sound like a narcissistic celebrity who just can’t get enough of his fawning public. While worship is directed to God, it is in a very important sense, for us. Authentic worship depends upon some understanding, either conscious or intuitive, of what we might call “the unseen order of things.” We function in at least two different realms: the seen and the unseen; the tangible and the intangible. Whenever we start talking about “spiritual matters,” we’re acknowledging the existence of this unseen realm as a simultaneous reality to our physical existence. When Paul says at one point that God is “the one in whom we live and move and have our being,” [2] he’s affirming that God permeates existence. As Marcus Borg puts it, “God is a non-material layer of reality all around us. …There are minimally two layers of reality, the visible world of our ordinary experience, and God, the sacred, or Spirit.” [3] Authentic worship creates a “thin place” [4] between these realms; a time and place where the realms might touch. Of course, it is possible that such a time could be anywhere and everywhere given that this sacred order is everywhere. I’ve certainly had thin places pop up in unexpected moments – in my bed, walking down the street, hiking in the mountains, sharing deeply with another, singing or listening to music, even just sitting quietly in a chair. You might know what I’m talking about. Though you wouldn’t have used this language, now that you think about it, you might remember those times of insight, or deep knowing, or deep connection with this non-visible realm. It might have happened in a location you now hold as special. Or it might have been while riding the subway. You heard how it happened for Peter one typical day. He was minding his own business in his boat when a certain carpenter from Nazareth gave the fisherman a tip on how he might fish. Low and behold, Peter caught the catch of a lifetime; more importantly, the two realms of existence kissed and he was thrown for a loop. We know this intimacy occurred because of what happened next. Peter immediately fell to his knees before Jesus and said, “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!” You will remember that something similar happened to Isaiah in the middle of his vision. He called out, “Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips; yet my eyes have seen the Lord of hosts!” We might call these “exclamations of humility.” Whenever the realms draw close and we happen to be in the vicinity, one natural outcome is an acknowledgment of our relative place in the scheme of things. That’s why both men fall into confession as a sort of knee-jerk response. Of course, we confess in the presence of the holy, because in the instant that happens we recognize that nothing is hidden, and that it never has been hidden. Everything is there to be seen! Everything. Hiding is impossible, for indeed, it dawns that the unseen sacred order has always permeated existence, but we haven’t cared to pay attention. Worship is one powerful and disciplined means of providing opportunity for these realms to intersect. This explains the care that was taken in designing this sanctuary and the care that we take preparing each Sunday. If you pay attention you will discover many nuances in the liturgy and music that are intended to fill this space and this hour with meaning, and maybe, even with the hem of God’s robe. I have a vivid memory as a little child, really the earliest memory I have retained of attending worship with my parents. What I remember is fully expecting God to appear at any moment from behind the altar screen. It’s a little hard to imagine such a thing here because you all know our unholy choir’s back there. But when I was five or six, in a far less grand space than this, I sat on the edge of my seat throughout the service fully expecting God to make a grand entrance. I would not have known or understood anything about Isaiah’s reported experience, but, by some natural instinct, the child realized the truth of the matter. Come to think of it, I suppose I’ve been sitting on the edge of that seat ever since. And this makes me wonder: On any given Sunday, what do most of the gathered actually expect to find or accomplish here? How is it that all of us have shown up today? Why is it that we’ve bothered to come? And what is it that we’ve expected to find? And how is it that we’ll find it? Will the character in the pulpit give up what we want? Will the organ crank out a “lost chord” experience that rings some impossible melody? Maybe we can depend on the choir for an improbable inspiration. Or perhaps the silence holds the mystery. I’m thinking that a lot depends upon what we expect to find. And that no person or thing can be responsible for our own worship. This accounts for how God can show up in the most unremarkable circumstances and in the humblest of church settings. I’m reminded that during Javier’s earlier tour of duty here, maybe seven or eight years ago, one man leaving through the door where Javier stood following the service exclaimed, “You guys need to lighten up!” I don’t remember what went on that day. For me it was just another Sunday. But now I wonder, maybe for him, he sensed the realms converging and he needed to flee the space. (On the other hand, maybe he just thought we all needed to lighten up….) Last week several friends and members said how tears had welled in their eyes during the singing of the last hymn. It happened to be an old classic: “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God”. I noted this because three different persons reported the same sort of response. A twenty-something, a thirty-something and a forty-something. Two women, one man. I’m thinking that some alchemy of familiarity, powerful text and music serving as punctuation to worship in this space brought close the realms, and, for lack of another outlet of expression, tears leaked out marking the moment. And I’m guessing those three were representatives of a larger contingent who had witnessed the thing. Communion servers routinely tell me their experience of serving such a diverse array of persons. They don’t use this language, but I can tell that they sense the realms converging during the meal as each receives their bit of bread and wine. When we kneel in prayer over there in the chapel, and receive the sign of the cross on our foreheads, we mark the occasion of realms converging. Words are exchanged. The veil is stripped away, nothing is hidden, anything is possible. Worship is no passive experience. We bring our disciplines of intention and attention; we come not as critics two steps removed waiting for the performance to begin, but as players ourselves, with our roles and responsibilities. Which then leads to the last thing to be said for now: following their dramatic experience of realms converging, Isaiah, Peter and Paul were changed, and they had revealed to them who they had been all along. Worship is not about a self-indulgent deep experience. We don’t consume worship like customers on the make for a fast pulse. At the end of it, the point is transformed lives sent into the world. That’s what Isaiah heard in the temple. “I heard the voice of the Lord saying, ‘Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?’ And I said, “’Here am I; send me!’” [5] _______________________________________
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