2004-04-04 Palm Sunday Thin Place.lwp - Page 1 of 2
The idea of something called a thin place comes to us from a tradition that once flourished in
Scotland and Ireland. Celtic Christianity was once marked by the established church as being heretical
because it affirmed the goodness of creation and equality among all believers. But today, Christians are
discovering a rich spiritual experience by walking the Celtic path.
You probably have seen at least some of the symbols of the tradition. One is the Celtic high cross
which consists of a cross and a circle. The cross is the cross of Christ, the symbol of salvation; the circle
represents God the Creator.
Another symbol you may know is the Celtic Knot, which represents how all things in heaven and
on earth are intricately intertwined and inseparable. Life in this world is intertwined with life in the world
beyond this one - and only a thin, permeable membrane separates those living on earth and those living
with God.
In the Celtic tradition, even though God can be encountered anywhere, there are also certain
places where this happens most easily: thin places. The Celts built prayer huts on these sites so people
could go there and seek silence and solitude and communion with God. And who doesnt want to see
through that glass that we now see through so darkly, who doesnt want to see God through the veil
that surrounds us? Who doesnt long to find a thin place?
But that place? The Place of the Skull, the place of public execution and clearly innocent suffering
- who would have thought such a place would be perhaps the thinnest place of all?
And yet, it was; and, more than any Celtic Knot could ever begin to do, the passion and death of
Jesus, as Luke tells it, witnesses to the truth that all things in heaven and on earth are intertwined and
inseparable.
Jesus, the holy one, dies the death of a common criminal and speaks of Paradise to the criminal
beside him.
Jesus, the one who a visiting angel designated as the Son of God, the baby who was hailed by a
chorus of angels at his birth, the young man on whom the Spirit of God descended like a dove at his
baptism, now commits his spirit to God as he dies.
And all creation seems to tremble: the heavens become dark, and on earth the veil in the Temple is
torn apart.
The separation is so thin that Jesus on the cross talks to God, and those who hear his prayers are
moved to confession and contrition.
It was a thin place, this place of the skull.
And there are many things we could think about when we think about this thin place - enough to
last a lifetime - but for now I would like to speak of just one, and that is suffering, especially the suffering
of the innocent.
I might speak, as I already have, about the suffering of poor children or the suffering of hungry
people or the suffering of creation - or even about the suffering of Jesus on the cross. But for now I want
to speak of the suffering that each of us knows because we have gone through it or because we are going
through it. What might that in light of the cross and the suffering of Jesus - and what, if anything, does it
have to do with thin places.
I know, and I feel pain every day. I know my own pain, and I know about some of your pain. I
know, and you know, about the kind of suffering that happens for no discernible reason. We know what
it is to suffer over what we have already lost and what we fear losing. There is a long list that includes
people we love, our way of life, our security, our homes, our jobs, our health, even our hope for the