Who's Afraid of the Big Bad God?

"As you come into the Chapel this morning students. Do not forget that we have invited God into this place to be with us during this time. And surely we want to hear the voice of God speaking to us. And in all likelihood we would miss God's voice if we were to be talking over Him. So please, do not talk in the Chapel as you enter into a peaceful quiet with God."

While the above quote is likely not verbatim as was spoken in Chapel, it is nearly word-for-word a recreation of the sentiment voiced to all Seminary students as they entered the mandatory Chapel service. A mandated gag-order from the highest court spoken from the lips of the professor whose primary purpose at the Seminary is to teach how to speak the Word of God to the masses. 

Quiet in the Sanctuary. So as to hear the voice of God (and the voice of the prompting pastor) without interruption. 

Now I was not raised in the Adventist church, and I was not taught first hand to walk softly in the Sanctuary throughout the Sabbath school ranks as a child. So maybe this is just another friendly reminder to err on the side of childhood and speak softly and reverently once you cross the threshold of the Chapel doors. But even after the not so gentle shushing from the pulpit seven minutes before the service has begun, there is still a bitter taste left in my now closed mouth. What happens to the body of Christ when we manipulate and regulate the use of its parts? In the Chapel we are informed when to sit, when to stand, when to speak, what to say ("Amen?" "Good morning church. That's not good enough, let's try that again, GOOD MORNING CHURCH" "Good is Good? All the time...", when/what to sing, when to listen, and when its all said and done, we are asked to leave to make way for a class that meets inside.  But before all of this is initiated into the portion we are required to witness to maintain good standing with the University enrollment offices (and with God), remain quiet until we are ready for you. 

Never mind the fact that the Seminary Worship team is busy shuffling around checking the mice, snapping off photos, the praise team is huddled on the stage reviewing notes and song ordering, the speaker is being informed of their time restraints and familiarizing themselves with the digital monitors at their legs, the radios clipped to the belts of each program director is alive and robust with conversation from the sound booth, the projection screen is being lowered into place as it coordinates with the mechanical hum of the window shades dropping over the golden windows, and over the sound of it all, the orator is verbally reminding everyone to be quiet through an amplified microphone. Just so that we can await the sound of God speaking. The Body of Christ (with the exception of the chosen t-shirted few) is now silently immobile facing forward. 

Like a classroom. 

Like God intended.

As a student of the Seminary scheduling from day-to-day, I recognize that my minutes are mostly full of assigned classwork, extra-curricular studying, and idle attentiveness to a professor in lecture. With the workload burdening each person enrolled in courses, one would assume that there would be time to create community among each other outside of the classroom setting. And maybe there will come a time for that later on in our educational careers, maybe I'm being too hasty to judge the situation. But I doubt it. We are required to follow countless syllabi at the demand of the professors who pen them. No phones in class, no browsing the Internet on our laptops, all eyes forward and no interruptions unless granted permission. This is the socialized norm that we all have accepted and it is upheld across the board. And within the classroom context, it makes logical sense. And so we act according to the command of the social contract.

The Chapel is a different location in my own mind and therefore the social code is in need of alteration. As busy Seminary students familiar with the sanctity of the Sanctuary and not a threat to disrupt the service with the clanging of our toy cars, messy baggies of Cheerios, obtrusive crying fits, or sliding beneath the pews on some adventure, we gather together as one Body. And that body must find its connective tissues that create stability and flexibility. We are told to do more than just study and memorize the facts we are provided in lectures. We are prompted to be close to our families and not negate our tasks as members of a unit. We donate our weekends to mandatory testing, classroom designated field trips, and the required hours of studying the textbooks and class notes to pass the quizzes and tests that await us. And all the while, we are a group of individuals from across the globe tossed into a very small space together as we boast of the greatest diversity in the United States educational system. But is that fact any more than an eye-catching blurb used to enrich enrollment numbers? If we never have the time to explore the body for what more than what it represents and recognize that it is different in places, then we are not diverse in as much as we are strangers in muted silence. 

It is my view that the Chapel is a safe place for the Body of Christ to assemble and grow. And while we have invited God to share the space with us for a brief time, I also believe that we all haven been given a great gift to be more than an idle witness to the activity of God in the world. There have been countless times in which I have begun what ultimately became a shallow conversation with someone new simply because we did not have the time to do little more than cover the basic niceties before moving on again. So why not utilize the space God has provided in each person called by God who just so happens to be located in a Chapel? Why not be the voice of God as we reach out in the love of Christ to touch a stranger in the brief moments before silence is once again mandated to give right-of-way to the orator? Why not let God speak in the words of the friends we have begun to make in the safest place to make them? And why are we telling God how to speak by strapping His feet to the floor, sealing His lips, and closing His eyes? 

I for one believe that we miss more of what God has to say when we pretend as if God is regulated in the silence. And if God were to speak, I'd surely want to hear what He had to say. But I don't believe that we are speaking over Him as much as we are experiencing Him in presence of His people searching after His own heart. 

Maybe I am tempting the wrath of God by reaching out and touching someone after I pass into the Chapel. But maybe I'm not so afraid of the God the pastor speaks of in as much as I'm trying to experience more than a God who is more than fickle about His children fellowshipping before Him.

Who's afraid of the Big Bad God? 

Not me. And so I speak...