The Shrine of the Holy Ghost
This little piece (and I’m not entirely sure what “this” is) was inspired by my time exploring Cathedrals in Europe these last 2 weeks. I am not oblivious by any means to the idea or the effect of sacred spaces. Beautiful buildings can in fact inspire me to want to worship or to pray. And yet for all of their beauty, there is a hollowness to any space in light of the glory of God revealed in the humanity of Jesus–and perhaps even in contrast to our own humanity. All this time, and I’m still not anywhere near getting over the mystery of incarnation, the mystery of the embodied God. So with disclaimers out of the way that this kind of writing is not precisely my forte–I hope you enjoy.
It is only good and proper that a deity so great
would demand a temple as great as we can build you.
We are well suited for this,
as our species is quite partial to building buildings.
We build cathedrals of stone and gold,
able to survive the centuries,
even a good sacking from the Vikings now and again.
We build sports arenas with state of the art sound and lightning,
able to change the ambiance at a moment’s notice.
We can do gymnasiums and multi-purpose rooms.
We can do kneeling benches or stadium seating.
Both if you like.
Yet in our buildings you are restless, unsettled, agitated,
Even buildings intended for your rest chafe you like the coarsest of ropes.
Indeed for all splendor, your taste in real estate remain most peculiar.
For where we are partial to buildings, you are partial to bodies.
Where we are partial to houses, you are partial to housing within us.
This is curious, even disturbing.
For while our buildings are hardly indestructible,
compared to our bodies they seem almost impervious.
Bodies of such eclectic sounds and smells and colours,
bodies that are shocking in their simplicity and their sophistication.
Bodies that are fearfully and wonderfully made perhaps,
Yet bodies so fragile and finite.
Bodies that we are so at home in,
Bodies we can’t begin to understand.
These bodies that house and enable
All of this heartbreak
All of this tenderness
All of this temptation
All of this affection
All of this DNA
All of this chemistry
All of this duplicity
All of this blood
All of this bone
All of this marrow
All of this joy
All of this brokenness
All of this wanting, aching, hurting, dying;
All of this hoping, rejoicing, receiving, living.
How could it be that you are so infinitely interested
in all of this breathing and digesting and touching?
That you could be so enamored with these bodies you made,
not merely to call us art, but to make us a shrine?
To take these fragile tents
and make a temple of the Holy Ghost?
Source: Jonathan Martin | 23 February 2012
