Notre Dame Points Me to God

When I watched Notre Dame burn, it took my breath away. Watching the spire fall  brought tears to my eyes. I wondered how the rose windows and the organ fared.

In my opinion any great building or work of art humbles us because most of us  are incapable creation on a grand scale. But we are thrilled to see the result of others’ vision. We are enlarged and blessed by the achievements of other men and women in the arts. 

So the damage to Notre Dame naturally caused sorrow for the millions of us who have visited. 

I'm grateful for my opportunity to sit in the cathedral for an organ concert years ago. Sounds on that scale vibrate through our bodies, and fill our minds and souls. (Standing on a German cathedral roof when the bells tolled the hour knocked me off balance.) I hope Notre Dame's organ will again someday fill the huge church with magnificent music.

Notre Dame was part of the historic musical shift from a unison melody line, like Gregorian Chants, to polyphony (more than one voice.) The organs in Notre Dame were used in the composition and performance of the newer style. The sample I’ve linked to is multiple voices, a brief example of a sacred meditation on Christ’s suffering before the crucifixion. It could have been performed at Notre Dame.  

Sagrada Familia, Barcelona

Joy and wonder fill us when the sun lights up windows with colors that are seldom gathered together in nature as they are in stained glass. 

Sagrada Familia, Barcelona

This week many commentators lauded the cathedral's beauty, its fine example of Gothic architecture, and how it has been a  symbol of the French people.  But we stand in grave danger of making the building an idol if we forget it’s original purpose—to be a place of worship to God. 

The grand spire pointed us up to Heaven, not the heavens. 

Similarly, the center of the north rose window points us to Jesus' birth, the pivotal moment which divided Judaism and Christianity. 

If we focus on stones and architectural style instead of Jesus, his death as a sacrifice for our sins, and his resurrection proving his divinity—Notre Dame is a magnificent building and nothing more. 

In this brief meditation, Bishop Robert Barron eloquently describes how the church was designed to point us to God.      

May the damage to Notre Dame as a place of worship point us to the Person we worship, not a place we worship. 

What an appropriate reminder for Easter, when millions of people worship the risen Christ. 

Easter: Mixed Messages

An elderly couple in my neighborhood decorated the front of their home in mixed messages. They decked out a bush in plastic eggs the colors of girly Easter dresses. Then threw in the Duke pennant.

The eggs reminded me of a statue of Artemis  a second century goddess. Note that her chest is covered in what look like  grotesque eggs. 

My brain fired a synapse, a connection,  between the plastic eggs, our crazy Easter egg fad and Artemis. All are symbols of new life and part of Iranian celebrations of the spring equinox. It's interesting how Christianity reached into the existing cultures to make connections with people around their important observances-- the winter solstice (Christmas), and All Hallows Eve (eve of All Saints Day, Nov.1) which probably came from a Celtic festival. 

I wonder if it was an early version of being "relevant." It seems to me that the pagan influences have more derailed Christianity than made it compelling. There's no way that kids chasing around after plastic eggs point me to the central issue of Easter--Christ's death and resurrection. 

I choose to separate the secular from the sacred as much as possible. I quit giving our girls Easter baskets (which they still lament) and made a lamb cake instead. It never really looked like a lamb and ended up being more of a bad joke. 

This year I borrowed a Central American tradition of cascarones (hollowed eggs colored  filled with confetti) for the kids to enjoy in their before-Easter celebration. They can enjoy then twice. First in the making and second smashing them on their cousins' heads.  Thus the silliness won't completely overshadow the sacred.

Tonight, I am grateful that our church has decided to recognize Christ's suffering and crucifixion in a Maundy Thursday service.  The kids will chase eggs on Saturday. Then we'll come together on Sunday to remind ourselves what's really worth celebrating. 

Happy Easter! He is risen! 

No Bunnies at the Cross

There were no bunnies at the foot of the cross.

Other Christians may find they can balance the secular and the sacred without eclipsing the redemption story.

I do not choose chocolate, dyed eggs, or new spring clothes as means of celebrating my relationship with the resurrected Jesus. 

I distrust the hoopla around Easter because I believe it distracts people from the focus of Christ's sacrifice. A girl once made the comment to me "Have you noticed how it always falls on a Sunday?" I think she missed the reason for the commemoration.

Certainly, our secular traditions are fitting for those looking for an Easter alternative. Those who have decided that he never existed. Or that he was a man that whose torture and death were unfortunate and unnecessary. Who would want to celebrate that? 

C. S. Lewis clearly identified our intellectual options when thinking about Jesus,

the assumption being Christ was a historical person. In that case:

“I am trying here to prevent anyone saying the really foolish thing that people often say about Him: I’m ready to accept Jesus as a great moral teacher, but I don’t accept his claim to be God. That is the one thing we must not say. A man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic — on the level with the man who says he is a poached egg — or else he would be the Devil of Hell. 

You must make your choice. Either this man was, and is, the Son of God, or else a madman or something worse. You can shut him up for a fool, you can spit at him and kill him as a demon or you can fall at his feet and call him Lord and God, but let us not come with any patronizing nonsense about his being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us. He did not intend to.”

C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity