When I was at the University of Notre Dame, one of my favorite spots on campus was the Grotto, a small replica of the French Grotto of Our Lady of Lourdes. It was a small cave built of rock and filled with candles, and you could go there anytime, day or night, for prayer and reflection. I found it invaluable as a respite from some of the turbulence of my life. And I often reflected upon the fact that there was nothing similar at the other religious university I attended, that BYU seemed a model of efficiency but had no place on its campus for religious contemplation.
Of course, this tendency is not limited to BYU, but is typical of the church generally. Our church building are utilitarian, without contemplative spaces. If you are seeking a place to reflect and commune with God, you might be best off seeking out churches of other traditions, especially ones which remain open during the week and have places where you can sit and meditate.
Ahh, you might say, but what about temples? Surely they count as a place one might go to connect with the divine. But it is notable that even the temple is about accomplishing something (note that it is called temple work). Of course, that does not mean that it cannot also be a contemplative space. More problematic, I think, is the fact that is it not available to everyone. What does it reveal about our tradition that our one place which might be said to be devoted to spiritual communion is something for which you must qualify? Is meditation a privilege for the worthy? (And of course there are other reasons why temples might not be an option for some—reasons of geography, or that the rites of the temple bring nothing but anguish.)
I realize there may be logistical reasons why it is difficult for us to have contemplative spaces. Even if our churches did have such places, it might be challenging to keep them open during the week without having full-time clergy to be there. But nonetheless, I miss having a place like the Grotto.
This post is spot on. I have had mixed experiences with this in the temple. In one temple, I was informed that I had lingered too long in the Celestial Room, and was asked (kindly) to depart. On the other hand, the Salt Lake Temple has been great for me, in allowing me to meditate in the chapel, even to the point of missing two sessions before being ready to go through one.
I am excited for the new emphasis on the Sabbath Day, and I hope, perhaps illogically, that we might open our meetinghouses all day on Sunday, to allow for those who need contemplation. I know that on many Sundays, bishoprics and Ward Councils can be there as early as 6 AM and as late a 9 PM. I would gladly fulfill a calling that would have me be a ‘Sunday Building Person’ in the building all day, perhaps playing the organ in the chapel and making it a contemplative space, outside of the three-hour block.
At BYU, there was a memorial chapel in the Wilk that seemed to be there for silent contemplation. Still, the lists of veterans names, and the near absence of other religious symbols might only suggest contemplation of the war dead, and not invite other religious contemplation as readily as the Grotto of Our Lady.
There were corners in almost every building that were hidden away, that one could visit for quiet study or prayer. The Talmage building, the ESC, and the JKHB had my favorite quiet spots.
At several points in my life I’ve found myself desperate at church for some small space devoted to private prayer and contemplation. The last time I strongly felt that need I realized that the only way to be alone with God in our thoroughly utilitarian buildings is to hide. The only options, all problematic, are a bathroom stall, an unused classroom (where anyone may interrupt at any time), or, weather permitting, the lawn outside.
We’re a church of doers. We roll up our sleeves and build communities, serve one another, and save the living and the dead. I love that about us. But I too wish our architecture included some place for contemplation in all our worthy labors, somewhere to be still in the presence of God.
This is such an interesting point, Lynnette! I guess I’m so thoroughly Mormon that the question hadn’t even occurred to me. But it does make me think of a conversation I had with a co-worker recently, where she asked about whether one could just wander into a Mormon church building at a random time to meditate or pray, and I had to tell her that we’re not really that kind of church.
On my mission, in Ireland we regularly visited empty catholic church for some peaceful time.
My children have all left home, and my home is a very peaceful place so it is ideal for this.
That was something I noticed in Europe on my mission. Almost all churches were open during the day. Anyone that wanted to could come in and sit quietly for as long as they wanted. Light a candle, pray, meditate, contemplate, stay as long as you like. I thought it was nice.