Can trees clap their hands? Can mountains burst into song? Does God have fingers? Was that really Saint Anthony’s tongue in that elaborate display case I just observed over in this cathedral where I am standing this moment in Padua, Italy? And were the bodies of Saint Peter and Saint Paul really under in that Basilica in Rome? At this point I find myself not caring anyway. I am, at the moment encased in this quite elaborate cathedral designed and built by Donatello. Yes, the Donatello! This may be Padua, but I am in heaven. I am really, finally here. I keep sneaking off from the tour group, for I am not into preserved tongues, but I do not want to miss one fresco or one statue. The tour director is afraid she will lose one of us, so frowns mightily on my activities when she sees me. But I persist.

I am in heaven for another reason too. After being in one cathedral turned museum after another, or being there during non-service hours, I had longed to hear an organ come to life and belch forth its beauty. This cathedral was no museum. It was alive! The organ was being played. There was to be a special service later that evening, so several hundred people had come from neighboring cathedrals to form a mass choir. While I was there, this massive choir was practicing. The choir director was all on tiptoes most of the time, waving a large baton.

We wove our way though the cathedral. On the far side, a tiny monk stood in full regalia. As we approached, he asked who we were, engaged us in a short conversation, and then blessed us. It was a short blessing, and one I was sure he used often. But it was rather poetic, and I left him feeling a warm glow.

I loved the majesty and the mystery of it all. I loved the artistry of it all. I felt as if I were on Holy Ground and was being confronted by or surrounded by a mystical, spiritual presence. I wanted to step lightly and move silently. I wanted to stay and soak up all that was being offered. Please understand me. It was the spiritual presence that moved me, not the theology or the beliefs.

Sometimes, we get so wrapped up in what we believe or what we ought to believe, so into our head and thinking, that there is little space, time or a condition in which the Spirit can move and lead us. Sometimes we want so much for our surroundings to be dependable and ordinary, what we are used to, that there is no way for the spirit to surprise us and blow us to new spiritual heights or depths.

I was so excited when I came here and discovered that you had a meditation room! You had a dedicated space where any one who chose to, could come and be centered and be receptive to the movement of the Holy Spirit. There were candles, cushions, a tape/C.D. player with appropriate meditative music and a few visuals upon which one could focus. The arts were all available in this space. (Working on the new space)

Often as one embarks on an intentional spiritual journey, they will be surprised to discover the important role that the arts have in that journey. For it is the arts that can take us rather quickly away from all the claims the world has on us: the tensions, the stresses, the pressures, the materialism and the headiness. The arts and spirituality live on the other side of the brain. Oh, indeed they use both sides of our brain, but they live on the right side. They live on the side of creativity and imagination. They live on the side of deeper meaning. They live on the side of reality beyond what one can immediately see and beyond concrete descriptions. They live on the side of "there is way more here that I can show you or tell you. You must feel it or perceive it." And so, one on a spiritual journey will often soon find him or her self listening to meditative music or singing simple but beautiful chants to facilitate the spiritual journey. Or they may begin journaling or writing poetry, or being led by others poetry or writing. Even though they will proudly say they are definitely not an artist, they may find themselves painting or at least focusing on a mandala or an icon which another artist has created in order to focus or center.

Many years ago, Paul Tillich, the famous theologian gave a lecture entitled Art and Ultimate Reality. In it he states that art makes ultimate reality manifest through word images, visual images, through myth, symbol, sacraments and musical figure. The expressionistic element in these breaks through both the realistic acceptance of the given and the idealistic anticipation of the fulfilled.

Last week, I met with the arts committee and representatives from the sanctuary committee, They asked if I would preach on Spirituality and the Arts. I said I would when the scripture seemed appropriate. I went to my office and checked this week’s scripture. After running back down the stairs I burst into the room and said: "Listen to this!" And proceeded to read the passage to them. They do not know this, but every one of them smiled. It was as though they were meeting an old friend again after a long absence and their hearts were warmed.

This week as I was working on this sermon, I was struck by how much of our Bible is poetry, metaphor and parable. It is as though the writers, and even Jesus, were saying that what they were speaking of is so much more than what we know, that they must say what it is like. Jesus often says the Kingdom of God is like this, or that, or the other. In today’s scripture he is trying to tell us what the Word or the Good News is like by comparing it to seeds sown. Isaiah would have us understand that Israel’s return to the homeland after exile would be so celebrative and joyous that even nature would join in the celebration. And the Psalm paints a wonderful word picture of God in the act of creation. Vicky Taylor and I have tried to give you a visual image of all those scriptures here in the chancel. Maybe it is not only Christmas and Easter that the worship setting can provide images that help us experience the season of the church year and sow seeds of the Word through our eyes into our hearts.

You have heard by now, through sermon and the written word, that Jim will be on Sabbatical for three months beginning next January. My short version of his goal for that time is that he will be on a journey seeking health and wholeness in body, mind and spirit. Whenever a Senior Minister goes on a Sabbatical, the congregation has the opportunity to benefit from that experience also. If we are to do that, we must also be open to being on a spiritual journey. Maybe we can begin to be more intentional about being on a spiritual journey together by gathering in small groups for support, nurture and companionship along the way. Maybe we can find new and exciting ways to use all the arts along that journey and let them lead us to new heights and depths. And upon Jim’s return, we may be more ready and open to his new refreshed leadership.

Can tree’s clap their hands? Can mountains burst into song? Did more happen here this morning than a few drops of water on Ryan’s head? Can we be called to awake from our slumbers and rise on our spiritual wings? Is the spirit already blowing through us where it will? How do we know, dear ones, how do we know? And through how many venues will we be able to perceive God’s speaking and moving? Amen