Wonder and Awe
A friend shared this video that I then watched as part of my morning spiritual practice. Please take a few minutes to watch and listen before reading the rest of this post.
It made me think about some of the other worship spaces that I have been in and how art was used or not used in the interest of helping people have spiritual experiences. And then I thought about how we all learn differently, so maybe the things that help us to feel wonder and awe are also different. OK, I put in the maybe to soften this. I believe that what helps us to feel wonder and awe varies from person to person, and in one person at different points in their life.
I'm a big believer in beauty and that beauty can be found even in the most harsh or sparse or bare places. When I was a child, the world-side denomination that I was a part of began to remove all art from it's worship spaces. (Murals in historic buildings were exempted, and in all buildings there is still a lot of religious art in the hallways.) My understanding is that the art was removed so that people would focus on the words being spoken and on feeling the spirit rather than looking at the art. But some of us need that visual component of worship and being a believer in beauty in sparse places, I began to look for symbols in the architecture and what little decoration there was.
The first time I entered the Sanctuary at Unity Church-Unitarian, I was shocked at what I perceived as the vast difference in materials and style periods. As strange as I thought it was then, I have learned to love the reredos and I've found a lot of symbolism (some probably not intended, but important for me personally) in that space that now feels totally unified for me. It helped to understand the story behind it all, but even before then, I found wonder and awe. Again, this is a space where there is purposefully very little in terms of art, but I was able to view the architecture itself as the art I needed to find my awe.
As we look at the long history of religion, we see many religions that have banned certain activities or expressions during worship services or even altogether. There have been regions that don't sing. Ones that don't dance. Ones that have no depictions of God. Ones that believe a bare physical space promotes spirituality, and ones that fill their worship and living spaces with art depicting their sacred stories. Some equate reverent with still and quiet, while others worship with movement and loud voices.
My personal opinion is that "this works for me, so it should work for everyone" has been at the heart of these decisions that affect whole religious communities. I believe that God is big enough for all of it and our communities can be too as we incorporate times of silence and exuberant vocalization, the plain places and those whose art and architecture speak to our souls, the movement and the stillness.
What helps you feel wonder and awe?
It made me think about some of the other worship spaces that I have been in and how art was used or not used in the interest of helping people have spiritual experiences. And then I thought about how we all learn differently, so maybe the things that help us to feel wonder and awe are also different. OK, I put in the maybe to soften this. I believe that what helps us to feel wonder and awe varies from person to person, and in one person at different points in their life.
I'm a big believer in beauty and that beauty can be found even in the most harsh or sparse or bare places. When I was a child, the world-side denomination that I was a part of began to remove all art from it's worship spaces. (Murals in historic buildings were exempted, and in all buildings there is still a lot of religious art in the hallways.) My understanding is that the art was removed so that people would focus on the words being spoken and on feeling the spirit rather than looking at the art. But some of us need that visual component of worship and being a believer in beauty in sparse places, I began to look for symbols in the architecture and what little decoration there was.
The first time I entered the Sanctuary at Unity Church-Unitarian, I was shocked at what I perceived as the vast difference in materials and style periods. As strange as I thought it was then, I have learned to love the reredos and I've found a lot of symbolism (some probably not intended, but important for me personally) in that space that now feels totally unified for me. It helped to understand the story behind it all, but even before then, I found wonder and awe. Again, this is a space where there is purposefully very little in terms of art, but I was able to view the architecture itself as the art I needed to find my awe.
As we look at the long history of religion, we see many religions that have banned certain activities or expressions during worship services or even altogether. There have been regions that don't sing. Ones that don't dance. Ones that have no depictions of God. Ones that believe a bare physical space promotes spirituality, and ones that fill their worship and living spaces with art depicting their sacred stories. Some equate reverent with still and quiet, while others worship with movement and loud voices.
My personal opinion is that "this works for me, so it should work for everyone" has been at the heart of these decisions that affect whole religious communities. I believe that God is big enough for all of it and our communities can be too as we incorporate times of silence and exuberant vocalization, the plain places and those whose art and architecture speak to our souls, the movement and the stillness.
What helps you feel wonder and awe?
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