Sacred vs. Secular

"Indeed, the word sacrament is derived from a Latin phrase which means 'to make holy.'"

"But our God is in the business of transforming ordinary things into holy things, scraps of food into feasts and empty purification vessels into fountains of fine wine."

Rachel Held Evans, Searching for Sunday

I remember, years (and years and years) ago, when I was in youth group, the youth pastor taking us all in the Sanctuary. He played music over the sound system, and asked us to write down whether the music was sacred or secular. I had never heard any of it before (I don't know if I was the only one) so for me, I had to make a judgment on how it sounded (and maybe using the words). Once we finished, he told us that all of the music he played was considered sacred. I don't remember the music at all, but I remember the idea that sacred vs. secular is a difficult line.

There is a controversy in my church (not a battle, just a disagreement) that applause in worship is either bad or an expression of praise. One of the opponents of applause, who is a pastor (not our current pastor), defends his opinion by saying that applause is secular. That has always bothered me, especially in light of the lesson I learned as a youth. How is it possible for one person to judge the sacred vs secular nature of anything? Especially something as neutral as applause. How can one person say that the act of applause is not a sacred act?

If Welch's grape juice and Hawaiian bread can be made sacred by God, then why would we draw any lines concerning what God can make holy?

(By the way, this week has been brought to you by the Cardinal (grinning).  Prepare yourself for many more bird pictures - we stocked the feeders in the backyard.)

Perspectives: Sacred Window

What do you think of this window? Isn't it beautiful? It looks like it belongs in a church - but that's not where I found it.  It's in the entrance of a TGIFriday's in Charleston.

What is sacred? What is secular? Are there strict dividing lines between them? 

I'm not suggesting that a window at TGIFiday's is sacred, but the moment I had, looking at it, think of sacred vs secular, and planning what I would tell you about it was a sacred moment. It was sacred because it had God in it.

Have you been to a worship service that didn't feel like worship at all? That felt like a self-help conference, or even worse, a boring break before lunch? There can be worship that isn't sacred at all, because God hasn't shown up - hasn't been invited or acknowledged.

God transforms the secular into the sacred, and God doesn't set the boundaries for the distinction that we do. I've met with donors where the moments spent with them, hearing about their callings to give, that are sacred moments, made so be the presence of God.  

I've heard music on the radio that was not meant to be sacred, but was.

And I've listened to music in a worship service that had no element of the sacred in it at all.

We draw strict lines sometimes - and God ignores them. We pass judgment on the sacred nature of something, and God laughs at us.

Be open to the sacred every day. It shows up in places we wouldn't expect it.

Sacred

For the Lord has chosen Zion; he has desired it for his habitation; This is my resting-place forever; here I will reside, for I have desired it.  Psalm 132:13-14

Where does the Lord dwell?  Are there places where we feel his presence more keenly?  Is that "sacred" place really a place where God dwells more often or is it a place of memory of God's presence? 

In other words, are there places where God chooses to dwell, and we notice him there, or do we notice God more often at places where we have found him before?

I knit.  I was at the Northeastern Jurisdictional Conference this summer and sat behind a woman who was knitting.  I asked her about it, and she told me it was a prayer shawl.  We were there during worship, so I said, "I know this sounds strange, but I feel like when I knit in worship that I'm knitting into my project the praise and power of the feeling of worship -- I'm knitting in the worship."

She agreed with me.  She also told me that a friend of hers was knitting a prayer shawl during a contentious meeting at her church.  After it was over, the friend unknit the portion that had been completed during the knitting because she didn't want the anger and fighting to be part of her completed shawl. 

I get that.  I also know that the knitted project is just yarn and that worship and anger can't be knitted into it.  Even so, I know that when I pick up a pair of socks I knitted on vacation, that I remember the vacation -- the relaxation, the company.  The object triggers the memories.

Is it the same with a location?  Can the memories of an encounter with God inhabit a location so much that we believe God dwells in that place?  Does God make himself known more often in a certain place because he knows we are listening more in that place?

What makes a place sacred?