A couple weeks ago on our way home from Missouri, Jonathan and I decided to take a brief rest stop and take in this historic cathedral that is in sight of the interstate in the middle of Kansas.
There is something about chapels, sanctuaries, and cathedrals, regardless of religious affiliation or denomination,
that intrigues me.
To me, they are a symbol of God's presence and worship.
And so as we and another couple walked quietly into this one, which is open I think every day of the year.
There was an obvious air of reverence, and I felt like I was walking on holy ground.
There was an obvious air of reverence, and I felt like I was walking on holy ground.
That is, until we got about halfway down the aisle and were struck with the number of statues of saints and apostles and Mother Mary, etc.
Cathedral or no, this was not exactly holy ground.
Quiet or no, we didn't feel like we belonged with all those statues and idols.
So, halfway down the aisle, Jonathan and I looked around us and then looked at each other.
"I've had enough," Jonathan declared, and so had I.
Together we turned our backs on this sanctuary and walked out.
I was struck with a profound sense of disappointment.
I had entered reverent and had my senses disillusioned.
I miss the quiet sense of reverence that I feel ought to be in our churches,
and that was there in that Catholic cathedral,
but it has to be coupled with Biblical truth, too.
I had entered reverent and had my senses disillusioned.
I miss the quiet sense of reverence that I feel ought to be in our churches,
and that was there in that Catholic cathedral,
but it has to be coupled with Biblical truth, too.
I
had hoped to walk in somewhere and just spend a few quiet moments alone
with God in the middle of our hurried journey and the heavy hearts we
were both carrying.
And
instead, we had to turn our backs on even the quietness because there
was too much wrong represented there in that cathedral.
I find God not so much in noise and clatter, in loud music, or praises and noisy expressions of faith
as in the stillness and quiet.
The other day, after spending many weeks without a blind for our sliding glass door in our living area, Jonathan was able to purchase a wooden curtain rod and we hung the curtains we'd gotten
I loved the sense of softness and quiet that was there when Jonathan brought me out to see what he had chosen for me and put up while I was out of the kitchen.
I did like it! I love the round dowel (rather than sharp corners)
and the wood, too, which goes with our wooden clock, rather than metal blind frames.
And the soft fabric curtains.
Just small details that left me feeling peaceful in my kitchen, and that seemed to slightly tame the noise.
Perhaps it's because I spend most of my days in a busy household with all kinds of noise
(like the shop vac in the middle of putting up new backsplash for the counter)
and have been on call 24/7 that I long for quietness and even stillness when it comes to worship.
"Be still and know that I am God."
"In quietness and confidence shall be your strength..."
And after the earthquake, fire, and wind, the "still, small voice."
The last few days I have been spending more time in quietness.
Up the trail, in my little nook,
or on my knees or with bowed head, or searching the Scriptures
for guidance in this path of life.
A few mornings ago last week on a frosty morning, Jonathan took this picture of a frost picture on our bedroom window.
To both of us, it looked incredibly like three crosses on a hill.
"Take up your cross and follow," said Jesus,
and sometimes that cross is to do or speak for Him and bear the suffering that follows.
And sometimes it is to be still and let Him work.
Sometimes you must do or speak and be still all at the same time.
God will not work for those too cowardly to take up their cross,
to do His will.
But when we speak or do for His sake, we can then leave it in His hands to do with it as seems best to Him.
His peace is there, and even in the raging storm,
we can hear His, "Peace, be still."
I am sorry you didn't experience the peacefulness you were seeking in that cathedral, because of the statues. Have you ever been in someone's home that has photos all over the walls? It is quite off-putting to me. Cluttery,and no design beauty at all. Unless I know the people in the photos; then it can be interesting to look at them, and talk to the homeowners about the people, and how they relate to each other and to us. In my experience, that is how people who have been born catholic generally relate to the statues. You know, of course, that general literacy of us, the unwashed masses, is only fairly recent by world history standards. About the 1700s for Europe and N America, and more recently for other parts of the world. So the church used statues and stained glass to remind worshipers of the Bible stories. And how they can be examples, and what they did that was important in the history of the church. Each statue or picture contain elements that translate to a concept, so you can identify who it is and why they are important. (I don't know how to do this). (Photographs weren't an option). The catholic church does teach that worship belongs to God alone, not anyone or anything else, including icons, statues or saints. To our culture of protestant plainness it doesn't seem that way, though, does it? I enjoy your blog and your musings about life. Keep writing! Anne in Wy
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