Smashing Statues

I once served at a school founded before the Protestant reformation. In the entrance of the chapel are a series of pedestals on which statues of saints once stood. I say, once stood, because the reformers came and smashed the statues when they tried to remove all things that stood in their way of worshiping God, all things that were a part of the faith tradition they wanted to reform. Looking up at the empty pedestals on a recent trip back, I saw remnants of that dramatic moment of history and realized what an important faith lesson sat above me.

I’m not sure why, but I’ve always liked to collect meaningful things. Looking around my studio, I see reminders of my ancestors, my career, and the people I love most. Below the portraits is a ticket from a show I directed in college, a note-finding device used for the barbershop group I led in high school, and a handkerchief I left in the pulpit when we dedicated a chapel. The collection is plentiful, but I’ve recently begun to clear out my studio. Looking at the empty space, I feel as if I’m looking at the lonely pedestals in England.

I realize now how stuck I’ve been. While trying to move forward, I’ve been surrounded (and held back) by the past. Who are you now, the voice within me asks, now that all those “statues” from the past are gone? It’s as unsettling a question as it is freeing.

It’s a question that can be asked of our faith as well. Over time, we collect things that speak of our faith. Whether it’s a leather-bound Bible, a program from an important church service, or a plaque honoring years of service, such mementos are comforting. They can also hold us back.

It’s also true of our understanding of God. It is comforting to hold a view we’ve held all our lives, but just as it may comfort, it might also hold us back. “God is never-changing,” a neighbor likes to say when defending his firm opinions of what is and is not “true faith.” So often, we cling to what we’ve known and can’t look beyond such “statues.”

Perhaps we should follow the example of those reformers of old and smash the things that stand in our way of worshipping God. Who would we be, what would we believe, and what would we do if we smashed the “statues” that surround us? Churches would no longer be museums; our connection with the past would be found through living in the future.

The thought is as unsettling as it is freeing. Perhaps we would learn to give thanks for the things that have comforted us in the past while looking forward. Who knows, we might find a God who’s both never changing and always changing. God’s not a statue. Like us, God is alive.