The effectiveness of lowered lights, quieter spaces and scents

As I mentioned last week, during a recent study leave Nancy and I experienced some different forms of contemporary worship and discussed them with those who planned and led the services. Discussions of alternative worship often focus on a more casual atmosphere and a different style of music. Our conversations touched those topics, but focused on providing more sensory experiences and drawing on often overlooked parts of our heritage. The services we experienced sought to address spiritual hungers not always fed in typical forms of worship, whether traditional or more modern.

Other than Christmas Eve and Holy Week services, most worship settings bathe the congregation and/or the leaders in light. The services in which we participated featured soft lighting throughout the worship space and made use of many candles. Even the musicians and message givers stood in relatively dim light. That invited us to focus on the words and to contemplate. Sound and the presence of God often seemed to emerge from dimness, which I considered a powerful visual metaphor. Yes, Luke says Paul was struck by a blinding light and the Exodus narrative says that God led the people by a pillar of fire; but Abraham heard his call beneath a canopy of evening stars and Psalm 18 describes God with a covering of darkness. Settings with dimmer light call us to choose where to focus, a beneficial spiritual practice in a world of ceaseless distractions.

The services also offered more relative silence. Perhaps because of the dimmer light, the time taken between segments of the service did not feel uncomfortable. Even the songs we sang seemed to have more space between the words. The author of Psalm 131 describes entering God's presence as "I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother." In times of sustained silence, we learn not to rush to fill what we perceive to be a void. With less sounds for our outer ears to hear, we can listen with our inner ear.

During the prayers of the people, the worship spaces offered a variety of places where worshippers could go to meditate. Some had only candles, some featured icons or artwork, and some had a painted or printed word or phrase to ponder. I enjoyed the time to reflect and unexpectedly enjoyed the journey from prayer center to prayer center. Quiet glances connected worshippers. A sense of anticipation accompanied the journey, making the movement itself a prayer, something akin to what Celtic Christians called peregrination. Those who led these prayers suggested praises and intercessions, but did not attempt to speak for us, which invited spontaneity into our guided prayers.

The aroma of candles and incense filled the room. One leader censed the communion table and another anointed with chrism the foreheads of those who sought that symbol of prayer and God's presence. Paul's description of the faithful as "the aroma of Christ" (2 Corinthians 2:15) came to mind, as did times when candle wax, fresh fruit, and other scents pointed to the presence of God during worship.  

Not everything we experienced would work in one of our Sunday morning services; nor should it. All that happened reawakened my desire to help all of us use all of our senses to receive the gifts of God and offer ourselves to God. Thanks for the study leave, MWPC.

Grace and Peace,

LP