“The Beauty of Church”
“They do all their deeds to be seen by people. . .” Jesus in Matthew 23
“Now you are Christ’s body . . .” St. Paul
Church can be beautiful! Last night I attended a beautiful church and service. It was at the Denver Basilica, a large cathedral with enormous, white, vaulted ceilings, intricately and exquisite stained-glass windows, an ornate chancel and altar, an elevated pulpit. The sacred surroundings were nothing less than Divine. The service was what might be considered a “high mass”, with a procession down the long center aisle accompanied by swinging incense and sweet, angelic songs and hymns sung by the cantor. The organist was very accomplished, his skill on full display as he played an enormous pipe organ located on the large upper balcony in the back of the church. It was a mesmerizingly transformative experience, easily elevating one to the heavens. Yes, it was a beautiful service. But what made the church beautiful went beyond the aesthetics. It was the people.
I must qualify what I’m about to write by recognizing that I have had some pretty ugly church experiences based on the people. I’ve said before that church would be a wonderful thing if it weren’t for two elements: The pastors/priests who serve there, and the people who attend. I’ve been on both sides of the coin that Jesus uncovers in Matthew 23, both the one who has pretended to be a good person to try and impress others, as well as the person who has been maligned and mistreated by other. If you’ve spent any time attending churches, I’m sure you can relate and have had similar experiences. Usually people leave the organized church because of the people that are there. Perhaps you are one of those. I was for awhile.
But let me say that while people and pastors can make even the most beautiful churches ugly, they can also have the opposite effect. And that’s what I experienced last night. The priest gave a lovely homily, expressing genuine humility and conveying in a very clear way the treasures of Christ that are hidden in humanity—in earthen vessels as he put it. As I listened to him it wasn’t his excellent delivery or well-crafted sermon that made an impact, but rather the way in which even as a priest he stooped down to figuratively wash the feet of those who were listening. It was beautiful.
And there was the beauty of the people who were sitting in the pews. One couple in particular caught my eye. She had tattoos on her arm, he was wearing a hoody, and they had a daughter who was approximately three years old. They expressed such familial love for one another, and exhibited such a simple and genuine faith as they participated in the service. It was beautiful.
And then there was the man who wandered in about halfway through the service. His clothes were dirty, his hair disheveled, his gait unsteady. He gave the appearance of being homeless. He sat directly in the pew in front of me, though off to the side a bit. I watched him as he reverently worshipped, culminating in his walk to the front of the church to receive communion. He was not denied due to his appearance, nor was he examined to determine what he did or didn’t believe about Christ or whether he was a member of the church. He was given the wafer just like everyone else. He received it as a precious gift. It was beautiful.
And then there was my daughter by whom I sat. She hasn’t been practicing faith in the religious sense for quite some time. Recently she began dating a man who is quite devout. Going to church is important to him. And because he is important to her she has begun joining him. And enjoying the experience. It was heart-warming to sit by her in that setting and to experience being in the Presence of God in her presence. It warmed my heart. It was beautiful.
Church buildings come in many shapes and sizes, some beautiful in their grandeur and others in their simplicity. But where one finds the beauty goes beyond the building, extends far beyond the edifice, and reaches into the heart of God, of Christ, of His body the church, found hidden in humanity. It is sometimes the very ugliness of people where one finds God’s beauty.