The Transfiguration story speaks to that part of us that longs for the mountain-top experience—for the epiphanic moment when, even for an instant, we perceive through the veil of clay to the numinous glory beyond. If only we could find a thin place, maybe we could eradicate those quiet suspicions that faith amounts merely to wishful religious thinking. If only God, the overshadowing mystery, would appear in blazing light, maybe our doubts would scatter forever.
Naturally hearing about such experiences make us wonder what heaven might really be like. Of course there are cultural commonplaces featuring harps, clouds, white-robed angels, and St. Peter at the pearly gates. The Bible offers a few glimpses: a shining city, a fruit-bearing tree, white-robed martyrs—a whole different thing from angels—and a sort of large lamb on a throne. Not a lot to go on, really, so I suspect we all fill in some personal details when we contemplate the great beyond.
Further Up and Further In Read More »
spirituality
Maybe we are kidding ourselves. That outburst of Spirit-energy we managed to whump up on Pentecost is tough to maintain, especially for your average, mild-mannered Reformed congregation. Maybe we should admit that what we’re really facing starting the Monday after Pentecost is ordinary time, the long slog of the liturgical year.
ln the section on the Holy Spirit, we profess our faith in “the resurrection of the body.” Familiar, precious words. A couple weeks ago it occurred to me, though: do we believe in the resurrection of the mind?
The Resurrection of the Mind Read More »
liturgical year, memoir, spirituality
But then what? In most of our worship contexts today, the church gives us nothing particular to do until Sunday morning, when it’s all trumpets and lilies and pastel Easter frocks. Between Friday at 3 and Sunday at 10 (or 7 if you’re unlucky enough to face a sunrise service), you’re on your own.
Holy Saturday: the Liturgical Blank Read More »
liturgical year, spirituality
at do you do when you are old and your friends die, and you are left with that aching, empty space where they used to be?
