In the 1999 movie Dogma, writer/director Kevin Smith imagines the Catholic Church trying to update its image by replacing the Crucifix (which the Bishop, played by George Carlin, described as “kind of a downer”) with a statue of a standing, smiling, winking Jesus, giving two enthusiastic “thumbs up.” Smith called it the “Buddy Christ.”
The name hit the nail right on the head, capturing the difficulty that churches and pastors have faced for some time, a pressure that only keeps increasing. Do we describe a God who is mighty, awesome, omniscient, and risk making it sound like God is so distant and alien that God must be considered far above us; or do we describe a God who is loving, kind, caring and risk that God’s other-ness will be lost? Are we worshiping a King or going to spend some time “hanging out” with a buddy?
On the other hand, I recently toured Geneva, Prague, and southern France. Neither pictures nor words can capture, describe, or explain the architecture and artwork of some of the churches there. One could spend weeks or months in some of these sanctuaries and not see everything. Other churches had their artwork obliterated during the Reformation. The walls had been painted over, the statues removed. I knew the theological arguments that led the church to take this course of action, but part of me felt sickened.
“Can you imagine trying to compete with this?” someone asked. “Trying to get their attention on Sunday morning must have been impossible.” There was a danger of being overwhelmed, and what preacher wants to run the risk of sensory overload? After all, we believe in the primacy of the Word, rightly preached and heard, and surely that must be hard to achieve when every nook and cranny has something to distract us.
Still there’s no denying that sense of pure awe that comes from stepping into a sacred space which seems enormous and unending, where one could spend a long time learning more about the building and still not know it all. Doesn’t that remind you of our relationship with God? Is it really all that bad to feel overwhelmed by beauty and majesty when you first step into such an immense worship space?
Meanwhile, back in the USA, churches are dropping denominational affiliations (and even the word “Church”) from their names to “appeal” to a wider audience. Mega-church “worship spaces” look like movie theaters. Individual seats have replaced pews. The cross is often pushed to the sidelines or missing entirely. Everything says, “Come in, sit down, relax, enjoy.” But where is the awe?
The Protestant churches have never fully recovered from some practices that it rejected purely because they were “too Catholic.” Go into almost any Catholic church and you will find a bowl of water where you can dip your finger and remind yourself of your baptism. Go into almost any Presbyterian church and you might find a glass of water on the pulpit in case the preacher needs it. Gone are the symbols, now replaced with words. Don’t get me wrong, I love words. Reading, preaching, and hearing are central, vital parts of our practice of faith. But we Presbyterians shy away from mystery, from the intangibles, from those things that might be beneficial but are not easily explained.
We threw out the baby with the rosary beads and found our hands completely empty. What do we have to help us focus our prayer life? Sheer will and determination? Many seem to be discovering that that simply isn’t doing enough for us. If I can go into a beautiful place and be surrounded by things that remind me of God, a place where I have a chance to experience awe and wonder, I’m more likely to find that prayer is possible. Should I need such things? Ideally, no. Ideally, all creation would point our hearts and minds to heaven. Ideally I would only have to close my eyes to block out all that might distract me.
But ideally doesn’t live here any more. I’ve become more accepting, admitting that I need help, even welcoming it, taking it where I can get it. If having my eyes and my ears focused will help my heart, soul, strength and mind to focus too, then that’s help I’m entirely willing to accept.