I went to church yesterday morning. With a bit of regret, I have to confess.
It’s not that I don’t like our church.. I do! I like the services, I like the minister, I like the topics of the sermons and I like the friends I have there. I truly am glad that such a church exists.
The problem with Sunday morning church is….. It’s INSIDE.
The sanctuary is dim compared to the brilliant sun of the spring morning. Small windows tease you with the robin’s-egg-blue sky, the emerald green grass, the golden air infused with sun. I watched the windows as music and talking surrounded me, wishing I were outside.
So to the list of what makes all of us unique, add this one: INSIDE OR OUTSIDE person?
If it isn’t already totally obvious, I’m an outside person. Happiest and most at peace when working on something — anything — that keeps me outside. Choice of hobbies — those that keep me outside. Horseback riding, hiking, mowing (is that a hobby?), gardening, even cleaning stalls. I can even take most winters outside if dressed right. Well, OK, this winter’s sub-freezing temps DID make me glad we had a heated house and a woodburning stove. The outside urge in me quit for a long stretch of days.
Of all animal species, why are humans the only ones who build huge, square shelters we call homes? What is it about flat floors, flat walls and flat ceilings that make us feel safe? Boxes. Homes made of box-rooms stacked next to each other or on top of each other. You know the straight line is not one from nature. Human beings created the straight line. No tree, no plant, no river, no mountain is formed in straight lines. From what deep sense of humanity did we start surrounding ourselves with straight lines, when nature tells us otherwise?
I ponder these things as I look straight ahead at our straight bookshelves filled with straight sided books, wedged between two straight walls sitting on a straight floor. While outside the (straight) windows, trees curve and bend in the morning breeze.