transcendence

On Thursday nights, our core team gathers to eat and plan and pray and dream about launching a second campus of our congregation. It’s the one meeting of my week that I’m not responsible for—the one church meeting that I can just attend. And I get to attend as the Sunday morning worship leader for this campus. But, on Thursdays? I just have to show up.

ahhhhh

My husband, the most handsome preacher this side of heaven, prepared a sacred space for us after our dinner. He called us to another side of the meeting room where he sectioned off a circle of seats with candles and tables.

I didn’t know he set up that space for us. And I didn’t know what was coming. He talked about us taking a moment to just reflect. Think. Breathe. He plugged his iPod into the system and played a song for us. He told us to just sit and think about the challenges we are facing right now. And we did. Then he read a passage of scripture to us and we listened. And he gave us a few minutes to share with the group. And we did.

The experience was magical. Invigorating. I felt like I was sitting in a moment that was bigger than myself.

Transcendent.

I miss those moments, those experiences where I don’t know what’s next and I didn’t “plan” it and I’m just along for the ride and I’m as surprised as the person sitting next to me.

I miss the “not knowing.” Actually, I miss the Knowing that comes from not knowing. I want the Knowing that comes from transcendent awe and mystery and anticipation and surprise. I think I’ve lost some of my Knowing in all this planning and knowing. And it’s all messy in my head and I can’t even find the right words to explain it adequately. The best I can do is say I want to feel like I’m a part of something bigger than me.

Am I allowed to say that Sundays don’t feel bigger than me? I don’t mean it in a prideful sense. I just don’t have another way to say it. Am I allowed to say it that way?

Because, it’s true.

Ok. If I’m not allowed to say it that way, let me say it in an acceptable way: I want to feel a sense of transcendence on Sundays, and the familiarity of planning and facilitating has removed a bit of the magic of anticipation.

And, I miss that.

God? Wow me.

Readers? Tell me: How do you experience Transcendence in life and in church? Or, do you?

where did the transcendence go?

by Mandy Thompson time to read: 2 min
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