I watched this vid from Religion & Ethics News Weekly this morning and it reminded me of the work I did when studying at Oxford on the features and functions of “Sacred Space”.

What constitutes “Sacred Space” will vary from one person to the next – from one group to the next – I realised this when doing a comparative study during my course-work. Part of the project was to visit two radically different Anglican communities, in this case St. Ebbs, and Pusey House for a service to see how the space was used, how the two services in the same communion compared, and so on; then to compare that with my own experience as an Eastern rite OC/IC believer. The whole experience was fascinating – and allowed me to explore and experience various elements of “Sacred Space” I’d never previously considered.

Because we are Indie folk, because we are people of faith, I think we often take sacred spaces for granted – we “know” them, but we don’t often stop to consider them, because they are so very familiar to us.

And yet – for many of our communities – “sacred space” is something that we must improvise. Many of our communities do not meet in an “established” sacred space (borrowed, rented, or even “owned”) – we meet in living rooms, sitting rooms, kitchens, pubs, and parks. So how do we, in our context, create and envisage sacred spaces? There is a custom in Chaldean communities – that emerged under the Ottomans, where the space is consecrated and de-consecrated at the beginning and end of each liturgy. What steps do our communities take when meeting in non-religious spaces, or even non-indie spaces to consciously be aware of this thing we call “Sacred Space”?

This essay in Religion Dispatches is really compelling. The politics of the impending health care reform in the US, while fascinating, is of no interest to us here (if you’re a regular you’ll know we don’t do anything but indie thinking and issues), rather the discussion about how a mythology takes shape.

The “key” feature is how a group takes an image, and “re-interprets” it (sometimes at the expense of its “real” meaning or substance). Which is what is certainly happening in the case of the current debate in the US. But here’s my question – for good or for ill, how have we indie folk done this, and how do we continue to do it?

How have we taken “images” from our inherited language about “church” and “catholicism” and re-interpreted them; what has been the “cost” of this re-interpretation? Has it hemmed us in, or liberated us? Does it inspire, or merely trap us in the cage of old, un-healthy models of religious expression?

I came across this vid over at Emergent Village and it started me thinking again about what it means to belive, why we believe, and how we express and share that conviction in the little things – daily life.

Interestingly enough, this vid is also closely tied in with yesterday’s post on helping the poor (it’s towards the end – but be sure to watch the whole thing).

Last week’s Guardian (and other media here in the UK) reported the death by suicide of a 23 year old man paralysed in a rugby accident in March 2007; this is in addition to the recent reporting of Debbie Purdy, awaiting clarification from the High Court on the law that forbids others aiding those wishing to end their life. The difference between the two cases is that Daniel James’ condition was not a terminal illness in the usual sense, Debbie Purdy on the other hand has progressive MS.

One of the principal arguments in favour of a planned (and as necessary, assisted) death, is the relief of suffering, and ending one’s life with dignity. It is admittedly a strong point – one which from an OC/IC perspective we cannot discount. Is there value in life, purely for the sake of being alive; or does that life require . . . . something else, something personally tangible in order to . . . “justify” . . .  its continuance?

What also emerges here is the rather painful sense of loss . . . . and not just any loss, but the loss of hope. Daniel James described his situation as a prison, a second class existence . . . it was a life not worth living. He could no longer “justify” continuing.

“Hope” is, for us, is embodied in the Incarnation (Mt. 12.21); is expounded upon by the teaching, and actions of Christ, and the Apostle (Rom. 8.24ff): “for in hope we were saved. Now hope that sees for itself is not hope. For who hopes for what one sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait with endurance.” Enduring hope and confidence in Christ then is an essential element shaping our Christian identity. How then are we to discern a way forward in the face of what can only be described as an overwhelmingly “hopeless” situation?

These are not easy questions, and they do not have easy answers. To merely espouse the inherited thinking we bring to the table from our past denominational lives is, I think, short-sighted and does not contribute to expressing the independence of our own discernment and thought as OC/IC believers.