It’s all about atmosphere…

Two things that create atmosphere are very tangible, architecture and interior decorating. I wonder how often the architecture and the interior decorating of my church change my mood, my perception of what’s going on around me? Because the atmosphere of a church should be different than any other place, a sacred space with a sacred purpose.

I read an interview with architects who design church buildings, and they shared what they think about as they work with a congregation. I loved the way they talked about choosing flooring and ceiling heights to enhance the opportunity for people to connect with God.

Now, my church probably needs more than a new floor plan or some different carpeting. Architecture or interior design alone do not make a space sacred, joyful, or peaceful. But the church architecture and decorating scheme moves people from the ordinary to the sacred, striking a balance between the human being who comes to worship and the soul who fellowships with God. But these things came to mind, when I considered correlation between the lack of tangible sacred space and the architecture and interior design of my church. It might also explain the lack of joy and peace I feel, when I think about the building; sad, but true.

The lack of a hallway upstairs-There is no way to get from the balcony of the sanctuary to the upper level of the children’s wing, because there is no hallway upstairs. It’s hard to be joyful, or peaceful, when you have to detour down the stairs, down the hall, up another set of stairs, and down another hall that always makes you late to Sunday school.

The fluorescent lighting-Nothing looks sacred under bare fluorescent lighting. It just doesn’t work. It’s too unforgiving.

The lack of nooks-There are halls, and if you stop in them to talk to someone you clog traffic. There’s a cavernous lobby, that traffic flows through but never really stops. There are long, empty halls and some ice cold walls of windows, but there’s no place to pause.

The unnatural colors and artwork-The shades of green, beige, and white give a bad seventies vibe. Everywhere posters of free scenic images with Bible verses pasted over them. There’s no joy in creation, or beauty in art, and definitely no sacred differentness to say you’re in a church and not a doctor’s waiting room.

Churches serve so many people, there’s no way to please all of them. But would it be so divisive to make the lighting a little softer, to create places for people to pause, to bring in some real artwork and natural beauty, and to think about where hallways are necessary?

My church doesn’t have a large budget for building maintenance, let alone redecorating. But atmosphere matters. A well ordered church with planned sacred space, joyful space, peaceful space, shows me a pattern to follow. DIYs don’t happen overnight, whether you’re working on a house or working on your character. Atmosphere matters because we often don’t know what we want until we see it, or what we need until we experience it.

I’ve walked into sacred spaces that made me pause, breathe a sigh of relief, and recognize that God was there. Not in the building itself, but in the way the His people had prepared the building, in the way they wanted His presence made known to all who came through their door. Atmosphere matters. Architecture and design can create safety and order, or they can allow chaos; they can provide a place for the sacred, or keep it away. When I walk into church, the atmosphere helps me come to grips with the Savior I’m coming to worship, the presence of Christ I’m coming to partake of.

Happiness is not a fad…

One of my students gave me socks for Christmas, striped socks with pom-poms hanging from little bows at the ankle. I brought them home, showed my family, and sort of laughed about them. The pom-pom fashion craze was not something I got into, but I can always use a new pair of socks.

Seeing pom-poms the size of small grapefruits hanging off of backpacks, in all kinds of obnoxious colors, made it a fad in my mind, something people got into because of group think or vanity or pride. It never crossed my mind that there was any valuable reason to have unnecessary pom-poms bouncing around.

And then I wore my socks with the pom-poms, and they bounced cheerfully as I went up and down the stairs for the millionth time that day, and I realized they made me happy. And isn’t being made happy something of value?

I’ve heard so many people tell me happiness isn’t the reason I’m here on earth. It might be good and noble to be joyful, or to be glad, but God couldn’t care less about my happiness. I missed the point because while I don’t need to be happy all the time (and can’t be) I do need to be happy. God made me to be happy and I need to choose happiness. Maybe it’s something as little as pom-poms on my socks, and that’s alright. Because it’s the pom-poms that are the fad, not happiness.

Sanctity of human life

I had a strong case of Catholic envy on Sunday, because my church’s commemoration of Sanctity of Human Life Sunday was pathetic. A flier was in the bulletin telling how to pray for the local pregnancy resource center, and during announcements the flier was mentioned. That was all. Sometimes we have baby dedications on that day, which is both a great idea and also somehow misses the point. Catholics have marches and special prayers and I’d think no one leaves church that Sunday wondering if all human life is sacred or not.

I left wondering what kind of Christian think drunks aren’t created in the image of God. The pastor said he would never promote a designated driver program because he cares more about the state of the person’s eternal soul. I think he meant, designated driver programs promote sin, or at the very least condone sin. I thought, “what kind of a Christian leaves drunks to drive home, potentially killing themselves or others?” I don’t want to condone sin, but I don’t want innocent people to die, either. I don’t want to encourage the binge drinking society at the local university, but I don’t want those lost, confused, angry, and hurt young people to die or kill someone else.

And then I thought, isn’t the pregnancy resource center the same thing? How is it any different to provide help for unwed mothers than it is to provide help for drunken college students? Both services clean up bad choices after the fact, but for some reason it’s better to save an unborn baby than a person who chooses to drink?

We don’t get to choose whose lives we think are sacred. We don’t even get to choose what happens to the people we help, whether it’s the unwed mother who comes back to the center for the second, third, or fourth time, or the college student who calls the designated driver for the second, third, or fourth time.

Because it’s not so simple as saying, “I don’t want to condone sin.” It’s figuring out if you are in such a place, at such a time, to show Christ’s love to the unloved and the unlovely. And you’ll find them all over the place, in pregnancy resource centers, in designated driver vehicles, and in church pews on a Sunday morning. It’s realizing the sacred breath of God in the unwed mother, the drunk, and the pastor who says things you disagree with. It’s hard. There’s no easy, nice answer. But if we’re going to say unborn babies are worth saving and risk condoning the mother’s actions to help them, we have to say the same about drunks.

 

No regrets

I had another blog, and it died. Partially because I got sick and quit writing, and partially because it never really lived in the first place. But this is one of those instances where I can handle the regret by trying again.

I have a piano sitting in my living room, a baby grand, and the other day I realized the only reason I have it is because of a guy, a guy I haven’t seen to speak to in over six months. I teach piano, I enjoy playing piano, but I would never have bought this piano if it hadn’t been for that guy. And I don’t want to regret that piano, but sometimes I see it standing there, dusty, and I really wish I’d never bought it. I learned something about myself because of that piano, though; I realize I wasn’t immune to the unfortunate reality that girls will do crazy things for guys they like, even if the guy in particular isn’t interested.

But I know I can’t always get rid of regrets by learning a lesson. I can’t get rid of regrets by confessing my sins, or praying. I can’t get rid of regrets by reading quotable plaques. So I’m just writing some things down to figure out how one lives with no regrets. Because there will be times I have things I don’t want to have, when I am in places I don’t want to be, and when I will say things I don’t want to say. I will probably write things I will wish I had never written.

One of my favorite books is A Severed Wasp by Madeleine L’Engle. A character from that book, a concert pianist whose life was horrific and tragic and beautiful and sacred, when asked if has any regrets about her life says no. She had those times she wanted to be elsewhere, wanted to do something else, but still had no regrets. That’s the kind of life I want to have. It isn’t the absence of pain and hurt and evil, but possibly the choice to see the sacred, to make music in the face of evil.

So I’m blogging, again. I’m going to write about the messy life I have, the sacred music I make, and the regrets I have to deal with. And I’ll try not to edit too much.