Wells and Walls

“You stiff-necked people! Your hearts and ears are still uncircumcised. You are just like your ancestors: You always resist the Holy Spirit!”
Acts 7:51 (NIV)

Of late, I’ve been reading a series of posts by a fascinating Orthodox believer and mystic in Ireland. I’d never heard of this before, but there are a great number of “holy wells” scattered across Ireland and he’s been seeking them out and documenting the adventure. There are all sorts of legends and stories that surround each well and many of them are located in extremely remote locations. Finding some of them sounds like a bit of a pilgrimage in and of itself. No matter how hard they are to find, I’m always surprised at the photos showing many people had been there and left tokens of their visit. Many obviously still believe that these wells are “thin places” where the veil between the physical realm and the spiritual realm is more permeable.

I find the “holy well” phenomenon intriguing, and it’s obviously rooted in the history of 1500 years ago when wells, and fresh water, were more critical for survival. With Jesus’ claim to be “living water springing up to eternal life,” it makes sense how a well could take on layers of metaphorical and spiritual significance. It’s unlike anything I’ve experienced here in America, though our modern history only goes back a couple of hundred years and was arguably rooted in more “enlightened” times.

Along my life journey, it has always been church buildings that I have observed people treating like sacred spaces. I can remember being taught this as a child, literally as if the building was holy and had some special divine indwelling. While I fully understand that a building dedicated to the gathering of believers in worship can take on all sorts of significance for people, the very idea of a church building goes against the core of what Jesus taught.

In today’s chapter, a young believer named Stephen is brought before the same religious rulers who conspired to have Jesus killed. The charges against him included him “speaking against this holy place” (meaning the Temple in Jerusalem) as Stephen quoted Jesus saying He would “destroy this Temple and rebuild it in three days.” For the Jews, the Temple was sacred, so when Stephen argues that “God does not dwell in houses made with human hands” he was taken out and stoned to death.

One of the things that I love most about Jesus was that He moved God’s presence out of buildings with walls made with human hands to the table where “two or three are gathered” over a good meal and conversation. God is there because God indwells the believers at the table, and there’s a shared presence in the gathering together. My body is the temple. God’s Spirit is in me and goes everywhere I go. To ignore this and believe that God resides in a sacred church building down the street where I visit Him on Sunday means I don’t get Jesus’ teaching at all. In fact, it makes me no different than the stiff-necked religious rulers throwing stones at Stephen.

So, in the quiet this morning I am reminded once again that God is in me, and my body is the temple. This means that the divine is a part of every piece of my day, even the mundane and ordinary bits. It means that when Wendy and I gather for coffee and our usual blueberry and spinach smoothies in just a few minutes there is something holy taking place if we will simply take time to recognize it. And, I don’t have to go hunting in remote locations to find a holy well, though that does seem like a really fun adventure.