One of our members has been quite clear that if we leave the building, for him, Grace Episcopal Church ceases to exist. I had a hard time understanding why he feels that way. At first I thought perhaps it stems from his childhood in a country where the closest church was the one you attended--the old parish system as it still tries to operate in England. As conversations continued, that didn't seem to be the case. It wasn't until I came across this passage in Diana Butler Bass' A People's History of Christianity that understanding began:
To medieval people, church building expressed their spirituality--their visions, virtues, and dreams of God. Church buildings were the geography of paradise, the actual location where Gods' reign of beauty and justice could be experienced here on earth. Buildings, and the arts and liturgies therein, demonstrated the mysterious interweaving of the worlds, the playful combination of this world and the one beyond. Holiness was translated into visible structures where people might see, touch, and feel the beauty of God. (p. 91)He may not think of it in precisely the way Bass describes, but it is clear to me that the building that houses our congregation is where this man comes to find God. His spiritual home is as much the building as the community that gathers there. Perhaps even more so. If the parish were to move to a different building, we would, in essence, be sending this man into exile.
How do we care for our brother?
Peace,
Jeff
Supposing the 'building' is taken over by, say, the local YMCA. Is our brother's spirituality still there? I am feeling Bass' theory, or maybe even fact; I am having a hard time with ascribing 'God' to a building that ceases to function in a way we feel it 'should' function. A lot of questions here.
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