space

I'm sitting on a window seat at school. I have always loved window seats, and desperately dream of someday having one of my own in the place where I reside. There's something so great about sitting next to the world, being able to take it in at full size. I'm not talking about looking out some 4x4 window... We're talking full sized, near floor-to-ceiling window. Brilliant. And it's heated (ah, warmth) but even better, it's on the second floor. I'm looking down on a guy walking his bike across campus, a girl who's braving the cold wind and snow in just a hoodie, and the courtyard where in-between-class leisure time is spent when the weather provides a more appealing atmopshere. I'm sitting in a place where conversations happen - students discuss homework assignments with professors, some of them arguing, people say I love you, and people break up, people scream "Girl, wassup?!" down the hall, curse using just about every foul word possible, and people engage in other raondom verbal interactions. I'm sitting in a place where people run to class, meet up with friends, satisfy the munchies, and supposedly become better educated in the process. Yet somehow amidst all the hustle and bustle that happens within these halls, I am able to slow down, and enjoy the quiet moments in life. I love being able to look out the window, and watch a single snowflake attempt to complete its path towards the ground. I love listening to the hum of the heater, indicating that there is no one else around to steal the spotlight from it's monotonous, yet soothing sound. I love sitting against the wall of my window seat, and feeling the warmth of the sunshine on my face, distracting me from the cold that waits for me outside. It is in these moments, in this place, that I find a sense of peace. Where I can put all the events of the day, all the harshness of the world, the bitter cold of winter, and everything else around me aside, and breathe. This window seat... has magical powers. It seems almost sacred.

Now, I realize this sounds weird, and somewhat pointless. However, I do have a point. I was thinking about space - actual, physical space that we occupy. The places we go, have been to, and spend many hours of our lives. I don't know about you, but one of my favorite places in the world, is my bed. I love to take naps! But as I began to think more about this idea of space, I couldn't help but think of one space in particular - church. Now, when I talk about church (little c) I'm not talking about a body of believers who gather together. I'm talking about the physical building where they meet. So often, I think we just see it as the place we go on Sundays. It's the place where we sing songs, where we listen to someone teach, and where we have potlucks (if you have missed out on this tradition, be thankful). However, what if we began to treat it like my window seat... What it become more of a sanctuary, a place where we could find peace, silence, and solitude. I think in order to make the distinction that Church (big C) doesn't not rely on church (little c) we forget that it CAN serve a function. At least I do... And I think it hasn't been until recently that I've realized the effect of it.

I've mentioned before on my blog that I have a love for the piano. We no longer have a piano at my house, so I would always play the baby grand we had at the church I attended/worked for. It was beautiful, and I loved playing it. But I can remember times, sitting in the sanctuary where it was located, and feeling a sense of awe... Here was this sanctuary - a place that had been the grounds for worship and learning, along with many arguments, rules and regulations... Yet, when I was there by myself, in the dark, just me and God, it changed. This room that had been host to many Sunday morning sermons and tense church meetings, somehow felt so much more like a sacred sanctuary... So often I took that "space" for granted, not recognizing that it was a holy place, and that I was on holy ground...

This is not to say that this is the only holy place. In fact, I'm saying that I think we function according to the opposite assumption. For instance, how many of you feel like you connect more with God on a mountain top? sitting by the ocean? looking at the stars? These are all places I think we deem as "holy". Yet, the place where people communally invite God in, you'd think would be considered in the same way. But it's not... We see it as a building: carpet, pews, podiums, halls, crosses.

I wonder what church would look like if we were asked to take off our shoes before entering in? I wonder what it would look like if instead of making the church look more like a movie theater, it reflected a more sacred atmopshere? What if instead of spending our energy on rules and regulations about what SHOULDN'T happen in the "auditorium," we spent our energy modeling a type of worship where that respect would come naturally?

Who knew that sitting in my window seat would spur such thoughts. I think I have just been struck by the idea that a "space" can be so special, so sacred. And that lead me to wonder if the church - the actual building - could ever look like that. The place where I should MOST want to meet God, I don't - or so it seems. The place where people are supposed to "find God," they don't because no one else is there to meet Him unless there's a program to go along with it.

These thoughts may make no sense, and for that I apologize. This post is a bit of a stream-of-consciousness. However, sometimes I like to post them because then people comment on things I never even thought of. So if you have any thoughts, I'd love to hear them.