The Celts talk about “thin places” … places where the veil between the real world and the “other” world are thin. Places that go beyond what your five senses can feel.
Perhaps we might say that they are places where God breaks through … or, where we allow ourselves to experience God breaking through. Sometimes I have heard these times referred to as “God moments.”
Some congregations actually offer times in the weekly worship service when folks are invited to come forward and share these God moments with the rest of the faith community. Times during the week when they have felt God, or Holy Mystery … moments of awe and wonder, in the past week. Perhaps it was a moment of deep connection with someone. Or a moment of stillness watching a sunrise or sunset. Or, a moment of deep joy when you heard children laughing.
Sometimes, I need a little help remembering all the God moments in my life. I am blessed – there have been many. This help often comes in the form of objects that remind me of those times. Times when I have felt close to God. Times when I knew that the Spirit was moving in my life, even though I might not have recognized it at the time.
The object is a reminder to me to try to move into the unknown, even when it is uncomfortable. And that God is always surprising us.
When I start bringing my “stuff” into my office next week … (my newly painted, newly carpeted office, thanks to a wonderful team of folks who have worked diligently over the past couple of weeks to make that happen!) … you will see an eclectic collection of random objects scattered about.
Objects that remind me of communities and people in my life, of God moments and thin places. They remind me that we carry our experiences with us wherever we go.
I am happy to tell you about any of them … but here are a few of the things you might see.
Pictures of the groups that have accompanied me to the Corrymeela Peace and
Reconciliation Centre, Ireland’s oldest peace centre, in the past 10 years.
My Jesus Action figure. I’ve had him since my early days as a Chaplain at Mount Saint Vincent University, and he has traveled with me many times. His only official tricks are that he glides and blesses – which, if you can only do two things, gliding and blessing are pretty much right up there. Close companion is the Jesus Bobblehead. And my prized possession, my Last Supper Lunchbox.
A collection of rocks. Some came from Lake Huron, a place where I spent many summers in my early years and still visit. Included are my small collection of rocks with holes in the centre, and my heart shaped rocks that I have found or was given over the years.
Two birds. The coloured one is from Solintename, Nicaragua. I bought it when I was in Managua, Nicaragua in 1997 with my class from the Centre for Christian Studies. The Gospels in Solintename are four volumes of transcripts of bible studies in the early years of the Nicaraguan Revolution. They document the liberation that comes with community engagement, conversation, and the stories of Jesus.
The little white bird is from my spouse Pat, from New Orleans. Part of the BirdProject, it came encased in black soap, also shaped like a bird, made from Louisiana Clay. As the soap is used, eventually the ceramic bird inside is freed – a symbol of restoration and recovery from an oil spill disaster. This also reminds me of the power within, and how we all need the help of others to be restored and whole. It also has a bit of a chip on its beak. That happened in my hurry to free the bird from the soap. It reminds me that sometimes we often have scars, bumps and bruises from our experiences. It’s who we are.
A wooden painted cross from El Salvador which I bought at Phoenix Rising, an international interfaith university chaplains’ conference in Vancouver in 2000. I am not usually drawn to a cross as a symbol of my faith, but these beautifully painted crosses from Central America, with scenes of people and landscapes, and community, are symbols of life.
My hand made prayer beads, which a colleague and close friend taught me to make, and which I have in turn taught other groups how to make
A finger labyrinth, which reminds me of life’s journey, with all its twists and turns.
These items have traveled with me over the past 35 years, sometimes spread out between 2 or even 3 offices. They traveled to Toronto and back. I wasn’t sure what to do with them when I looked at them last fall when I unpacked. It appears that they will have another home for the next year.
What helps you to remember the “God moments” in your life?