I've spent several days with
Doxology flowing through my heart and dancing in my mind. I've thought about it in the quiet times. I've heard it whisper to me in the loud times. I'm beginning to understand that I don't really understand it.
I've held off writing about it until I could write something profound. Well, here it is...
Doxology.
That's it. It is what is profound.
At least, it has been for me. I know others I have spoken with feel the same. I've read comments from people I don't know echo those thoughts.
But what is it?
Yes, it is an art exhibit. You can go to
Xnihilio gallery at
2115 Taft Street and see the exhibit. More importantly, if your looking, you can see yourself. And Jesus. And how others see themselves and Jesus.
You can go by yourself, but don't. I mean, maybe sometime, but not the first time. Take someone with you. Take many with you.
You see, Doxology is also about conversation. It is about community. It is what Jesus was about. Yeah, he took time to be alone, but his life was immersed in life.
An underlying theme of Doxology is truth.
So tell me the truth...how do you see truth? How do you know truth? Why do you believe what you believe? Is it a prescription? Did someone tell you to 'take this'.
Does experience play any part in the truth?
Rob Pepper challenged himself to see the truth. Maybe it just wasn't adding up. Maybe he was tired of being fed something that tasted a little bitter. He challenged God to show him the truth. I don't think God showed him the truth. I think God let him experience the truth (or glimpses of it) and in turn, Rob is hoping we can do the same.
Here is an example. This is his experience of the crucifixion.
Now, my photo of it doesn't do it justice. You need to stand in front of it and dive into it.
How many times have you sat in church, feeling bad for Jesus dying for us? What a painful thing to endure. Not just hanging on the tree with nails stuck through him. Not just the beatings he went through. Followers abandoning him. Friends abandoning him. It was all such a terrible thing. The truth is, I've felt pity for Jesus.
I have never thought of it as beautiful. That is, until now.
When I saw his vision, his experience of this same scene, it was breathtakingly beautiful. I don't ever remember hearing those words used to describe his death.
As I was looking at this spectacular moment, I could feel differently, but I wasn't grasping the words. But that is the best part. In that moment of weightlessness, that second or two, like when you are flying and just before the plane touches down on the runway and the pilot leaves you suspended there...sort of free from everything, I was standing there, just hovering above the ground. Not bound by laws of nature or laws of men. It was...spectacular. I was close to feeling like that moment at the Crucifixion. Free.
The words did come. Not mine, but those of
Mark Fletcher, the vicar of
Church on the Corner. He helped me to get a better feel. He wasn't telling me what the truth was, rather, he was sharing with me his experience of the truth, which helped to give words to my experience.
Here is some of what he experienced and wrote down...
There is insight here into a cosmic liberation. The earth shakes, the sun is eclipsed and Rob sees the joy of creation as it feels the chains of bondage loosen. The Mountains and the hills break out before us, and the trees of the field clap their hands. While the human onlookers reel in shock and grief, unable to comprehend it is creation itself which speaks of the wonder of this moment.
In the story, I've either focused on the suffering of Jesus, the miserable folks around the cross, or how the earth started shaking like it was all over. But nature, the earth, was rejoicing. Creation had waited patiently for this moment, had dreamed about this moment. Here is the birth of life and the demise of death.
The truth is...here is Glory!