Transforming the spaces in between

When I signed up for this “Braving the Elements” retreat, in 2019, I thought I’d get some good education about new ways to worship from the Wild Goose Worship Group.   Originally, Graham Maule was going to lead it, and I was fascinated to meet him.   First he sadly passed away, and the retreat was delayed a year, and even though this is essentially the same retreat, it is very different from how I expected, and I expect a little different from what they originally imagined. 

It is, for me, experiential, not educational.  But that is good, because it is transformative.  It is changing my heart and my soul, not the collection of things in my head.  Don’t get me wrong, I am getting some very useful ideas for worship, none of which are going to be something anyone is used to.   But what is happening inside myself, is what is most interesting. 

In these liminal times between Covid and whatever succeeds Covid, we have looked at liminality an we have looked at spaces in between.   Yesterday we used art and worship to explore what lies between.   We started off with drum circles.   Yes, I do drum circles all the time, particularly with young people.  But I was able to sit back, to listen, not lead, to let myself be part of (and, most importantly, at times to NOT be part of) the rhythm, the conversation, the voice.   We were reminded that as much as striking the drum or other instrument makes the rhythm, the spaces between make the rhythm even more.   

We went on to art, and we drew abstract pictures, very large, pastel on paper, that represented our day so far, and then we did one that reflected one of our services.  I chose Sunday’s communion service, because communion is always so meaningful for me, and so important.  We drew our lines, and we looked at the spaces and we filled in the spaces in some cases to highlight them.   Where are the spaces in worship, that make our acts stand out?  Are we constantly trying to fill them?   This part of the day reminded me a lot of seminary, especially the work of Dr. Michael Willette Newheart, who required a creative response to pretty much everything he taught.   He was academically rigorous, but also tapped into something spiritual deep inside me.   I am forever grateful for both what I learned and the parts of me that are more creative that he helped me unlock.

Then we had the afternoon mostly off, and I spent part of it napping.  ILOVE an afternoon nap, and used to just hunker down on the loveseat in my office to take one a couple days a week.  Lately I have not and it is a luxury I have allowed myself this week a couple of times.   I also spent a good part of the afternoon journaling, as I was behind in keeping my journal.   

In the evening we had another beautiful, amazing session.  Indeed, this was the most transformative session by far.  We met outside, at the St. Martin’s cross, which is the original cross sitting outside the Abbey.   We were invite to experience the spaces of the Abbey, and we started out singing a simple chant:

Come, Holy Spirit

Come, Holy Spirit

Maranatha!

Come, Spirit, come.

We were invited, via gestures, to follow the leaders of the retreat into the Abbey. The sun, which is going down toward setting, was streaming through the west Abbey windows above the door we were entering via, and flooding the sanctuary with the light of evening.   It was so beautiful. We were invited, by gestures, into sitting in seats, into turning those seats to face one another, to greeting one another with gestures (we used the British Sign Language sign for “Peace be with You.”).  Then we were led into the choir, again invited to sit, and a very short poetic reading was read, which we responded to with our song:

Come, Holy Spirit

Come, Holy Spirit

Maranatha!

Come, Spirit, come

From here we were invited into the chancel where there were a number of ropes, and in gestures, led to pick up these ropes, and use them to connect ourselves.  We accepted ropes, offered ropes, creating a great web that included every one of us in ever-changing web of connection.   Some knelt, some just held on to a few ropes, but everyone was involved in their own way.   The next morning the reading would be from 1 Corinthians 12, and these connections kind of previewed that verbal story of the body of Christ that is in that powerful section of the book.   

Eventually we were invited to drop the ropes and our leader started a new song, one that I already knew. 

Come with me, for the journey is long

Come with me, for the journey is long

The journey, the journey, the journey is long

The journey, the journey, the journey is long.

Then walk with me, then sing with me, then dance with me, and dancing we exited the church and went to sit together in the chapter house, and debrief.

After we debriefed, we were invited to spend time in the sanctuary and explore it, without rules (although without touching things).   Already from the earlier experience Ihad found myself noticing things, but now I noticed more, the air of age, and some things that were cracked or worn or even broken, the ferns growing in some places in the walls, the steps up to the musician’s loft, the detail of the four stained glass windows, St. Columba, St. Brigid, St. Patrick (remember it was the Irish that brought Christianity to Scotland) and one other saint who remains a mystery.  Hopefully I will find out who that saint is - over on one side by themselves, and seeming fairly androgynous (if I had to say I’d say it was a woman, but I am not sure.)

We eventually brought that to a close (so they could prepare for the evening service for justice and peace) but I felt changed.  During the evening prayer I was thinking about the spaces in between, I was thinking about the space i my room in the evening, even this morning, as light streamed through all the windows during morning prayer, I was still drinking in the space between us.