The Sacredness of Space
11-11-07
As I stood on the corner on July 11th, of this year, I was watching the people gathered as much as I was watching smoke billow out of our steeple. People I had never met before were gathered on the corner with tears running down their cheeks. The scene was eerily familiar to them, I was told, to that fateful October day in 1980 when this Sanctuary caught on fire and burned. Now, I only had a glimpse of what it felt like those many years ago, and I had a pit in my stomach with the possibility that the steeple may collapse into the sanctuary. In fact, when I got out of my vehicle the Fire Marshall told me that the steeple would indeed come down and he was hoping that it would land on the sanctuary instead of across the street. My stomach was doing flip flops as I considered what it would be like to rebuild again. After the initial shock and devastation, I wondered what the conversation would be like. Would there be a debate like the last time on whether to start over with a new facility or keep the old design? Would people want to add new features, or strive for an identical sanctuary?
I’m thankful that the question did not arise, at least at this time in history. However the events of that day, when lightening re-energized this church for good works, brought another question to mind; a question that I want you to think about for a few minutes. For many of us gathered here, this space is special…it is sacred. What makes a space sacred? Think about that for a moment, I’ll get back to that question.
Church is being done in all sorts of locations these days. Did you know that for $35,000, you can have a luxury sedan, or a lovely Gothic church. Take your pick. It’s hard to believe, but for the price of a well-equipped Infiniti G35 luxury car, you can now buy yourself a fully loaded, 47-foot-high place of worship. It’s got Gothic arches, an organ, a pulpit, an altar, space for 60 and even some stained-glass-style windows…all for 35K, which sounds like a deal, or even a steal. The problem is this building is a balloon. The world’s first inflatable church made its debut in May of 2003 in England, and its creator hopes that it will "breathe new life into Christianity." Featured on CNN and other media outlets, the church is designed to fit in the back of a truck so that it can be hauled to village squares or open fields and set up for impromptu services. Time was when churches were the centers of community life, but "sadly, that’s not the case anymore," laments the innovator behind the inflatable church. "This is one way to reverse that trend, make the church more accessible and put it back where it belongs." Walk through the gray Gothic archway, and you find yourself in a worship space that looks like a cross between a monastery and a moon-bounce. There are brown polyvinyl pews, an inflatable organ, a pop-up pulpit and an air-filled altar. Once you get adjusted to the puffy plastic walls, you can easily imagine taking part in a service of worship there. The stained-glass windows are really quite attractive, and the inflatable pews seem to be much more comfortable than seats made from hard, polished wood. Just be sure to leave your sharp objects at home.1
Here’s another example, out past the diesel pumps and idling semis at some of the major truck stops in the country is a big rig called the "Mobil Chapel" — literally a church on wheels.2 Inside this renovated 48-foot semi trailer is a church with seating for a few, a pulpit and a small office run by a ministry called Transport for Christ, which staffs 28 such chapels at truck stops in the United States, four in Canada and even three on the ring roads around Moscow, Russia. Truckers deal with the complexities of big-rig trailers every day. Why would they even consider going to church in one of them, if they would go at all? I think the answer has a lot to tell us about the question I asked a minute or two ago. What makes a space sacred? What is the meaning of sacred space?
It’s not so much about the architecture of a church, as it is about what’s going on inside. Although there is no arguing that the symbols in this sanctuary and the history of their creation, event the creation of the sanctuary itself, certainly adds to a sense of sacredness in worship, for many having the cross in front here, and the stained glass windows that tell the story of the church and the gospel, remind us of God at work in this place. For many running their fingers over the wood of the pews and the altar, and seeing light come in through the stained glass window in the front, bring God a little closer in this space. This sanctuary looks like what a church should look like.
Going beyond interior though is to go to the heart of sacredness. Everyone, even the roughest trucker, or the most curious Brit in the middle of a field, has a deep need for community. "Deep down in every person’s heart, there’s a desire to speak to someone who listens and doesn’t condemn." I believe when a community is able to create such a place, one has started to create a sacred space. Sacred space is more about what is happening with the people than with the building itself.
It may be a simple coincidence, but the connection between these inflatable chapels and these little trucking chapels and this week’s lesson from the prophet Haggai are all about creating sacred space for people. In this morning’s passage it is about those who have spent much of their lives traveling far from home. The Israelites in today’s story had all forgotten the importance of sacred space (a struggle I could imagine this community having if we were forced to rebuild our church after devastation.) The prophet Haggai’s ministry was a blip on the timeline of history, lasting less than four months during the second year of the reign of the Persian King Darius (Haggai 1:1, 15; 2:1, 10). Despite Haggai’s short time on the scene, however, his prophetic authority had a lasting impact. Under King Darius, some of the Jewish exiles who had been taken away from Jerusalem by the Babylonians nearly 70 years before were now returning home. Some of these exiles were young enough that they remember Solomon’s temple in all of its splendor. It used to be a masterpiece of art, a structure like no other in beauty. Darius’ royal predecessor Cyrus had previously ordered that the returning exiles not only be supplied with funds to rebuild their temple, but also that the sacred images and temple furniture that had been looted by the Babylonians be returned as well (Ezra 1:2-4; 6:2-5). Problem was, however, that the situation in Judah and Jerusalem was pretty depressing economically after the people returned. Jerusalem was still largely in ruins and the temple was pile of rubble. It could not withstand a foreign invasion. Some of you might be able to imagine your place of worship in ruins; more so than others of us who have never experienced such a devastating event. You might be able to imagine this entire structure burned to the ground. How does a community rebuild when a place that is central to the people’s identity, community, and understanding of God is no longer? Here’s the thing though, given the choice, the existing and returning residents seemed to be more concerned with building their own homes than worrying about the possibility of rebuilding the temple (Haggai 1:4, 9). They figured if they had limited resources then their homes were more important. However, God made it clear to the people through Haggai, that a devastated and neglected temple meant a devastated and neglected people (Haggai 1:9-11).
Sacred space was not to be a mere afterthought, but the highest priority of the people. You think it is taking a long time to rebuild our steeple? Just imagine taking over 15 years to complete a small temple. Haggai knew it was taking a little too long and his prophetic word was embraced by at least two others: Zerubbabel, a returning exile who was appointed by the Persian king, and the high priest Joshua (Haggai 2:2). Others, however, were not so sure. Construction had apparently already begun when Haggai’s prophetic word was heard, but there were those among the returning exiles and among the remaining residents who apparently thought that this new temple could not possibly replace the old one "in its former glory"(v. 3).
While Haggai himself would admit that the building itself wasn’t yet much to look at, he would also say that the real point was not how it looked but what God was going to accomplish in and through the new sacred space. Regardless of whether God’s people were in temporary dwellings or a temple made of stone, these sacred spaces were vital reminders that God was with them. For Haggai, the bottom line for a place of worship was not about how it was constructed or how it looked, but who was there. Whether it’s a tent, a bouncy balloon, a temple, or a truck, the key of a sacred space is that it is a place where God’s spirit abides among the people (v. 5). The new temple in Jerusalem became more of a center for the whole community — a place where religion, government and commerce were all transacted. The temple thus came to represent more than a house of worship — it became the symbol for the nation itself. If sacred space reminds us that all of our human activity is to be dedicated to God then there’s probably no better place for a chapel than in a semi trailer, an inflatable church, or a small gathering on the street.
We spend an awful lot of time trying to figure out how to get more people to come to church — to a defined, shiny and often expensive piece of real estate. Check most church budgets and it’s pretty clear that beyond staff, the next biggest item on the expense list is the building. We pay a lot for our sacred spaces and feel the pressure to fill the seats. The reality, however, is that no amount of great architecture, high-tech media, parking spaces, carpeting and padded seats will make a place sacred unless God’s Spirit dwells within the community that meets there. Maybe "success" in a church is a lot less about how many people are in the pews on Sunday morning and a lot more about how many people in the community find sacred space within the church’s everyday life. How many people, for example, come into your church on a weekly basis looking for solace, for a place to pray, perhaps to get some assistance with food or clothing? God told Haggai that God would "shake all the nations" so that their "treasure" would come and furnish the new temple the people were to continue building (v. 6-8). Maybe the "treasure" that God wants to give our churches will come to us in the form of many people seeking sacred space where they can encounter God and community in the sanctuary, in the hallway, in the classroom, in the pantry, and wherever else God dwells with us. Perhaps we should start looking at our churches as semi-churches — community centers where success isn’t measured in square footage and weekly attendance, but in the ways the people around find a place of peace and sacred space in the midst of a world whizzing by at 75 miles an hour every day. Let us always look for the ways that God moves in and through this community, so that we may truly be a sacred space. Thanks be to God. Amen
1 Long, Gideon. "Before faith fills the air, air fills the cathedral." The Washington Post, May 17, 2003, B9.
2 Csillag, Ron. "On the road to salvation." The Toronto Star, June 24, 2006, at christianity.ca/seekinggod/god-makes-a-difference/2006/07.002.html.
3 Bob Kaylor, Senior Minister of the Park City United Methodist Church in Park City, Utah.