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Reflections
A thin place is a place where the veil between this
world and the Other seems especially thin. Like the waves of
heat which make images bend and shimmer on an August afternoon,
the perception of those who are aware of being in a thin place
changes. They may sense it physically, with slight changes in
their skin or scalp. They may sense it in some inner way - their
awareness of the nearness of God may become sharper, for instance.
And some people are more sensitive to thin places than others.
Thin places are not the same as spiritual events. In these,
a person senses the nearness of God in some personal way. People
I know have experienced this closeness to God during Holy Communion,
for instance, or in certain dreams. Sometimes this spiritual
closeness comes when they see something from which they know
that a departed loved one is "all right" - with God.
I even know at least one person who has visions. But these are
spiritual events, not thin places. Spiritual events are experienced
by one person; thin places are locations, and are usually identified
as such by more than one person.
Many - even most - thin places are found outdoors. This isn't
surprising when we consider that the earth is God's creation.
(This is not the time for a theological discussion of science
and religion, but let me say here that I find nothing in science
that disallows my faith in God, and nothing in my faith that
disallows the finding of science.) Often, these locations have
been used for centuries or even millennia as places of worship.
Those places used for worship by the ancient Celts or Native
Americans still feel holy to many people today.
Is a thin place made that way by long worship and the faith
of people who worship there? Is it just that way somehow? Is
it made that way by God? Perhaps it doesn't matter. Perhaps it
is what it is.
Entering our chapel at St. Paul's, one person turned to her
host and said, "This is a thin place." Shes's not alone
in feeling that. I've heard the same comment from a number of
people, some strangers and some who belong to St. Paul's. Not
all have said thin place, of course. Sometimes it's that
they never feel alone in the chapel. Sometimes it's that they
feel especially close to God. Somtimes, it's just that they love
the chapel. I do, too - I feel especially close to God there,
and I feel the company of many faithful people. And while I know
that people have experienced all kinds of things there from the
joy of weddings to the grief of loss, the quiet is never oppressive,
only companionable. It's as though I have the company of many
others, and not all of them from St. Paul's. In the chapel of
St. Paul's, I feel the company of the Communion of Saints.
And that is what thin places are about. |