Sacred Spaces

As long as humans have lived on this planet, we've looked up into the night sky and longed to talk to the One who made the stars. Like Jacob, who set up a stone after he dreamed a ladder reaching to heaven, we tend to mark certain places that have given us sense of special connection.

Since it's Sunday, I thought I'd share a few pics of this sort of place from our very soggy shore excursions. We'll be island hopping a bit.

This first picture is of St. Benedict's from the Big Island of Hawai'i. The church structure was built around 1899 and then a Belgian missionary priest painted the interior scenes (with house paint of all things!) There are idyllic scenes of creation and, in stark contrast, a truly nightmarish depiction of hell on the opposite section of the walls. All the painting has been recently touched up, except for the view of the underworld. Evidently, its purpose is fulfilled without additional embellishment.

The church is still in use by an active congregation. There is a a sweet stillness about it and the green gardens around it add to the peacefulness of the place.

Also near Kona, there is a special place of refuge called Pu'uhonua o Honaunau. If someone broke a kapu, such as letting your shadow fall on the chief's land, there was no trial. The ancient Hawaiians had no prisons. The punishment for any infraction was death.

Unless...

If you could reach a pu'uhonau, you could be forgiven and after 3 days released without further punishment. Of course, this particular pu'uhonau was bounded on all landward sides by the chief's land, so there was no walking to it. An offender must take his chances in the shark infested surf in order to escape his death sentence.

When Christian missionaries came, most of the places of refuge were torn down, but this one survived fairly intact. Several members of the Hawaiian royal family are buried there.

The site was dedicated to life so human sacrifice was not performed on the grounds.

The same cannot be said for other marae. We saw these volcanic rock open air temples on nearly every island we visited, but the one on Tahiti, the main island of French Polynesia, was the largest and most complex.

This marae was guarded by large male and female tiki figures. The statues are not worshipped as gods, but are thought to hold mana (power) during the rituals. The ancient Tahitians had many gods and the rites performed here were to placate them and urge them to aid the people in some special undertaking--a war with a neighboring tribe or a migration to a new island. Only men were allowed inside the marae, but lest we ladies feel put upon about that, remember that the person chosen for sacrifice was picked from those inside the stone walls.

Clearly, this was not a time to be on the outs with the priests!

Now most Polynesians are Christian, about 80% Protestant and 20% Catholic. We were delighted to hear the same table prayer we use sung in Hawaiian. While we're loving this trip and totally enjoying the ship, I have to admit I miss my church. But God, a personal, eternal, omnipotent God, is here in the middle of the Pacific. And however imperfectly we understand Him, however inadequate our worship, He's already reached down to us.

He's just waiting for us to reach up.

Easter Thoughts

When we travel, I tend to gravitate to art museums. There's just something about art that makes me think, makes me feel, and nourishes my soul. A few years ago, we were blessed to take a cruise around the British Isles. In Glasgow, we went to the Kelvingrove Museum. Not only is it a spectacular building, the collection is very rich.

I was delighted to discover that my favorite Dali painting, Christ of St. John of the Cross, was on display there. I'd seen it in books and online numerous times, but to be able to gaze on this huge canvas in real life was a deeply moving experience.

I love a number of things about this work. First, there's the almost geometrical balance, the triangles formed by the cross beams and Christ's arms. There's a perfection in mathematics. To me, this speaks of the perfection of Christ's atonement.

Dali always described this work as his "cosmic" Christ. But his subconscious didn't let him keep the Savior at such a distance. Below the floating cross, humble fishing boats, like the ones in the village where the artist grew up, are tied up on the shore. Despite Dali's attempt to create a metaphysical Christ figure, his paint brush made it personal by putting in elements from his childhood home.

Lastly, the perspective of this painting intrigues me. It's a God's eye view. It reminds me that whenever God looks at me, he sees Jesus first. I can't tell you what a relief that is!

This painting has caused a lot of controversy over the years. When it was first displayed in 1951, some folks thought the Point of View was a stunt. Others were offended because there's no blood visible on the Christ figure. In 1961, a viewer even threw a stone at the painting and tore the canvas with his bare hands.

But when I look at the painting, I see my Savior suspended above this troubled world, covering my sins and forming a bridge to God with His own body, And it fills me with thankfulness and peace.

__________________________

Lexi and her husband are traveling again in a week. They'll be cruising to the South Pacific, where she hopes to discover some of the places that inspired the impressionist master, Paul Gauguin.

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Little Drummer Boy Redux

Talk about an update! This version of The Little Drummer Boy is a brilliant re-imaging of an old standard. Love it! Hope you did too!