“A place not sacred? Where?” – Zen saying
It’s cold and wet in Denver this Easter morning. But to the best of my knowledge, hundreds of metro Denver believers celebrated the dawn and what they hold sacred in the magnificent natural setting of Red Rocks. It is a tradition that Coloradans claim with heart and soul, huddling in hooded parkas and heavy blankets, anticipating the first alleluia!
I love the symbolism of waiting quietly in the cold and dark, absolutely confident of The Light we’ve been given. Plans were for the service to be webcast to the world. I love that, too.
There’s been some controversy, however, about the minister leading the services this year. Lutheran Pastor Nadia Bolz-Weber is tattooed. Irreverent in her reverence. But the fact that she’s present in this magnificent sandstone pulpit reinforces what I’m discovering these days about sacred. It is everywhere when finding it is our intention. When we’re willing to risk showing others who we really are and inviting them to do the same, God–or whatever you call that sense of Higher Power and Purpose–shows up, too. And it’s not always solemn. And it’s not always straight lines and straight arrows.
Rather like Red Rocks. Where the jagged stone edges rise to create an unlikely wild cathedral.
This is the place where I first introduced Al to the oh-so-soulful music of Bonnie Raitt. It’s the place my traditionally devout workout pal David cheers on his Ranum High cheerleaders as they run the steps to stay in shape. And it’s the centerpiece of the high-country park where my friend Sue savors the spiritual solitude of mountain biking.
The Creator provides the place. We bring the purpose.
I’ll give that an amen.
Photo: Thanks, Chris Thompson!