It is with infinite sadness that I must tell you that Dennis passed away suddenly last Friday. I write this on behalf of his wife and partner, PJ. With his passing, Dennis leaves a gaping abyss in our lives. He was a man larger than life, zestful in his embrace of all that life offered. […]
Encounters with God are meant to be physical. Throughout Scriptures, any encounter with God is pre-eminently physical (in the Word made flesh, in the burning bush, in the tongues of fire). Christ became man, to encounter us in our physical realm. He was a man who needed to eat, to sleep, even to bathe. Our flesh was his flesh. And he embraced man, woman, and child — God embracing us in our very beings.
A church “must be capable of bearing the weight of mystery, awe, reverence, and wonder which the liturgical act expresses,” so that “we see and experience” both the art and architecture and something beyond it.
Prayers are a recovery of the presence of Christ. In prayer, silent or voiced, we reconnect with the Divine, if just for a moment, leaving the realm of the ordinary and mortal, and touching on the everlasting.
Beauty is a reflection of God, and God draws us to Himself through that which is beautiful. Our quest for beauty is a quest for truth, for God. If we destroy beauty, we destroy something of ourselves.
In Revelations, the radiance of the light of God fills the City of God. “And the City had no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it: for the glory of God did lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof” (Revelation 21:22-25).
Sacred spaces such as churches are not just a repository for everything we have invested in them, but for all that God has invested in them. This is why these churches still speak to us. They tell us of things past and, in the case of Christians, things to be. For a moment, we see heaven on earth.