Between Two Worlds

There's a term that has gained some currency in Christianity, that likely came from Celtic mysticism: 'thin places'. The idea is probably quite ancient, but the term perhaps more recent. it speaks of a place or a situation where you experience the here and now, at the same time as perceiving something of the 'other world', the 'eternal'. Like being between two worlds. There are certain places on earth that are renowned for this - whether areas of outstanding natural beauty, religious sites, or somewhere else. 

It's something akin, perhaps, to the mountaintop experience - literal or metaphorical. There's an incomparable aliveness that comes with the achievement of reaching a pinnacle, a peak, a milestone. But part of this entails the contrasting experience of the valley, of coming back down to earth. 

After the drama of Easter, Matthew's gospel draws to a close with a mountaintop experience. The remaining disciples of Jesus go to the mountain in Galilee to which he had directed them (this is in Matthew 28:16-17). There's no definite identification of this mountain. Some people think it might have been Mount Tabor, the site of Jesus' transfiguration - where he appeared to shine with the glory of God in the presence of three of his disciples (and Moses and Elijah, who dropped by, Matthew 17:1-8). Some think it could be the hill near Capernaum where Jesus delivered the 'Sermon on the Mount' (recorded in Matthew chapters 5-7). It doesn't really matter which mountain it is. What's more important for Matthew and his audience is that it is a mountain - that's where a lot of thin places have been.  And so much of the story of God and Israel had high points on high points.  God reveals the Divine Name to Moses and launches the Exodus (Exodus 3).  Later, on the same mountain, God gives the Ten Commandments to Moses.  Elijah, the great prophet, also met with God on a mountain, shortly after demonstrating God's superiority over Baal on another mountain.  The temple in Jerusalem was built atop Mount Zion - the place that was to represent the meeting of earth and heaven.

Also important was that this was a mountain in Galilee - it could be the very place that Matthew's community found themselves, or nearby, possibly in Syrian hills.  And so, at this hilltop location, not too far from or dissimilar to where they are, they read of Jesus appearing to his followers.  And those followers displayed two reactions.  First, they worshipped him.

Worship is one of the main contexts you might hear about thin places among Christians today.  In acts of worship - sung, spoken, symbolic acts of worship - people sometimes find themselves in thin places.

What the term 'worship' literally denotes here is kneeling and kissing the feet.  Like one might do before a great monarch, or before a liberator, or as one might do in desperation, when pleading.  I wonder, then, if the disciples were literally kneeling before their risen Master - in desperation, or relief, or awe - perhaps a combination of overwhelming emotions.

Worshipping Jesus was not really something his disciples had done before this in Matthew's gospel.  Others had, occasionally, and mostly foreigners (like the wise men), lepers, and women (also foreign, Matthew 15:25).  It's rarely good Jewish men.  The only other time in Matthew that the disciples actually worshipped Jesus is in the middle of the book, in chapter 14.  There, Jesus gets into their boat in the middle of Lake Galilee - having walked to them on the water, in a fierce storm, which subsided as soon as he joined them on board.

The second response Matthew reports is that "some doubted".  What we don't know is, did they all worship, but some were doubting at the same time?  Was this an either/or thing - you were Team Worship or Team Doubt?  I'm more inclined to go with the former, that those who doubted had mixed feelings.  And the reason I think that is that the word literally means 'to double-think', to vacillate between two positions.  It's like being in two minds about something.

And who could blame them for that?  What a mixed-up turn of events they'd experienced.  One minute, everyone loved Jesus (well, not exactly everyone), the next they all want him dead; the next, he is dead; the next, he's not dead... And now, here he is.  And there were all his stories about how God sees things, and the miracles that proved it, and their own successes and failures as his students.  Yeah, it's no wonder some doubted, even amid the worship.

It's the same combo we find on that day when Jesus had walked on water.  Peter raised his head above the parapet and asked Jesus to call him out of the boat.  So Jesus called him, and Peter climbed out and started to walk on the water, to his Master and like his Master.  What a moment that must have been for Peter.  But then reality sinks in, and sinks Peter, when he remembers he's on a lake, in a fierce storm, and he's not in the boat.  As soon as he starts sinking, Jesus pulls him up - physically and figuratively, saying, "Why did you doubt?"  And then comes the worship part.

Maybe worship and doubt go together.  After all, if doubt is about holding together two disparate realities, trying to reconcile two positions, then that probably is a part of true worship, and it certainly speaks of thin places - where our experience, the world as we know it, meets with a reality we can't fully make sense of.

And in a sense, that's what was happening for Matthew's community too.  They were Jews, but were finding themselves at odds with their compatriots and their convictions up to that point.  They were finding their story now centred around Jesus, it came together in him.  Matthew's gospel is a re-imagining of the Jewish story, filtered through and focused on the person of Jesus.  Jesus was not only the ideal Israel - God's people as though they'd done everything right - but, somehow, he was also... God, as they were now worshipping him.

It may well have been an awkward space to be in. It's what we call a liminal space - on the boundary, between two worlds.  They were no longer truly what they had been - although it would always remain a part of them.  But neither were they fully 'there' yet; they didn't even know where 'there' was, or what they would end up being.

I get the sense that a lot of us can relate to this.  Whether it's to do with world or regional events - such as COVID, and the new normal/old normal/different normal - or in a faith context, where perhaps we've come to a point where we don't feel fully part of the tradition we've known, or the community we've been in.  Perhaps we've started to question some of the things we were once certain of, or that others are.  Maybe you are on a journey that others around you aren't on, and are not prepared for.

Doubt, of course, is not the opposite of faith - certainty is.  Doubt admits questions, welcomes diversity of opinion.  Doubt is open, and without openness, we can't imagine, and step out into new possibilities.

So, if this resonates with you, step out.  Join us.  There's plenty of (liminal) space.  And Jesus.