Sacred Space

These are the last days of a hard, long winter; we aren’t sorry to see it go. The fields are alive with growth after a cold slumber. We’ve missed the old familiar faces of plant life. This Sunday afternoon is spent enduring the stench of the weedwacker. Donn clears a path near the little brook, now full of bright yellow skunk cabbage. I follow in his aromatic wake, retagging cedar that has gotten lost in the thorny crush of the Himalayan Blackberry vines. My Frye boots are scored with deep scratches. Bend, tear off a strip of orange tape, and tie it to the top. Move to the next tree. The afternoon goes on like this until we reach what we call The Sacred Space.

This Space is unique on The Sanctuary lands. Forestry workers we hired to plant trees last year actually discovered it, buried under mountains of huge berry vines. They nearly fell off the rocky cliff doing so. It was an utter surprise, and even more so as the rugged beauty of the ancient rocks began to reveal themselves. Maidenhair ferns with bases buried deep in moss cling to their face. Piggyback plants, Don’s favorite adorn the bottom where rock joins earth. The drop is perhaps fifteen or twenty feet, and it is stupendous. Larger sword ferns gather at the base interspersed with elderberry trees and maple. This Sacred Space is encompassed by big leaf maple, under which we have placed a bench for meditation, facing the cliff. Behind the bench is a fabulous territorial view of the land, but we sit facing the rock. It seems more monumental in this place.

Today, we sat, exhausted after our afternoons’ work, on the bench in the Sacred Space. Last year, a tree with three small trunks fell across the top of the cliff, so it’s easy to find the place by looking for the “three fingers”. Easter is coming in a week, and my calendar showed that last year at this time the first trillium emerged decorating the cliff wall. There were rows of them- six or seven in all- oversized rose colored and some white. This year, none yet.

I cleared away decades of dead fern frond accumulation discovering rock underneath that hasn’t seen the light of day in years. In so doing, I realized that this is the church we have been looking for. Mentioning it to Donn, he agrees. We notice that the terrain yields itself to an altar at the base of the cliff. Placing a cross here would only seem like a grave. We decide to return to the ways of the patriarchs and try to build an altar. It should be relatively easy. This city is called “Mossyrock” after all, so there are rocks in abundance. Hopefully, lighter than they look…

My mother had written of her church earlier in the day by email. It is reeling under one disagreement after another between members (usually the old vs. the young it seems and music at the heart of it). If it isn’t that, the pastor is being a people pleaser and not teaching the Bible with all its “hard to hear” parts. I sense anger, frustration, and disappointment in her post. For many of the aged, the church is their whole world it seems. Therein lays the problem. I’m sure it’s clear – Jesus, God, and the Holy Spirit…it is they that must be our “whole world”. Why is that so hard to remember?

We haven’t found a church we can agree on. Most leave me angry. Why don’t these pastors/ministers – whatever they are called, realize their tremendous power? They have the power to inspire to greatness, to introduce God as an intimate friend and lover, to direct us to transcend this world and live in the invisible Kingdom – the heavenlies….They have the power to remind us of our greatness – ambassadors of God created in His image complete with incredible creative power- the power of faith and speaking the word. These pastors could remind us that God wishes to co-partner in our creating with us…Imagine that, co-creating with the God of the Universe and letting His power flow though us to bless this world? Well, apparently that isn’t what is going on.

So we have church here. Where two or three are gathered in My name, there I am in the midst of them- Jesus’ words here. We worship here, out of the fray, and in danger of being labeled New Agers or Pagans- even witches I suppose. It was in this spot that I found a rock- a big white quartz- that certainly is not indigenous to this Sacred Space or anywhere near here. Something very well may have gone on here in the past that was outside the bounds of what we might consider “normal Christianity”. But then again, God made that lovely rock with all its incredible properties. Perhaps we might adorn our altar with His creations here, free of judgment. Thanks to God, He knows our heart. We feel like the pilgrims here, free of religious persecution and all that ugly judgment.

I hope the churches can change. They have gotten so bad, generally – so impotent and full of divisions and judgment that I can no longer recommend anyone to find God there. For all those that fought for them, very sad. For Martin Luther, climbing up those staircase steps on his knees, sad. For those great souls who made the cathedrals, full of spiritual beauty- so very sad. What does all this mean? Why is this happening now? Aside from prophesy predicting it, perhaps God is trying to tell us that WE ARE THE CHURCH. We are the holy tabernacle that He longs to dwell in. God is to be found in the secret Kingdom of the heart, once we allow His entrance in. There is no “magic” in the literal building walls, no matter how lovely like some of the European cathedrals are- or even the 6^th largest in the world in our own Washington, DC. WE house that magic- the literal Spirit of God Almighty. WE are the church.

The Holy Spirit was sent to teach us and lead us into all truth. Donn and I meet, most every morning at seven, to read our several chapters through the blueletterbible.org on the computer that means we read the Bible in a year. We pray over our family, our business and every concern. We ask God to send INTENSE blessing on us, just like Jabez did thousands of years ago. WE ask for the expansion of our borders so more of God can get into this piece of our world. We repent of sin and ask for filling of His Spirit. Sounds like “rote” sometimes until we really consider it. Have you really considered that sentence? Being possessed by the same Spirit that set the worlds into motion, created stars and galaxies… ???When was the last time your pastor reminded you of your greatness because of who fills, inspires, strengthens and animates you? Or did you get the usual “behavior modification” sermon? Or one that was dug out of the files and replayed? So that it no longer angers me to see so many pastors wasting their enormous opportunity, we stay here in the Sacred Space (weather permitting) or inside, worshipping, studying deeply, praying, loving this relationship and being truly enthralled by it- at home.

Maybe one day it will change…maybe it will grow to include more like us who need much more than we were getting. Or maybe it won’t. After all, the churches all used be in the Sacred Space of home.