The View from the Pew

Repurposing Religion & Renovating the Religious Mind

When one of our neighbors moved across town, she asked if we would like an old church pew. Knowing we have served churches over the years (and Carol remains a Christian minister), our neighbor was happy to have us “take a seat.”

Now, the pew (in surprisingly good condition) sits in our entryway. Some visitors have been amused to see what I sometimes call “the sinners’ bench.” Carol often sits on it to pray … just kidding. She changes her shoes, as I suppose people used to “change their views”… or their lives, listening to sermons, singing hymns or praying.

My title here gives a clue at where my mind went as I reflected on the way we’ve repurposed this old bench pew.

Here’s my thinking:

—How might the “furniture of faith,” the literal, tangible “sanctuary stuff,” be re-used for something else? Could these “holy things” be useful in perhaps more practical—more “secular” (not exclusively religious) ways?

(in one church we would sometimes allow a weary wanderer from the street to rest in a pew, or sleep for a while. When one of our unsheltered musicians asked to play the grand piano, we would enjoy wonderful music from the dark sanctuary—some in the church wouldn’t have liked that use of an expensive instrument)

Of course, this doesn’t mean the “sacred stuff” can’t have dual purposes. It’s just that a pew is simply a bench that can serve several useful roles. A piano can be played by members and non-members, believers and non-believers. Our mindset might have to adjust to that.

Let’s go a little deeper:

—How might the non-literal, non-tangible “furniture of faith” find other uses? What I mean is, if the purpose of religious faith is to serve everyone, to make the world better for all, to make each individual a happier, healthier human being, then why hold so tightly to the supernatural elements, the “spiritual things”? (this makes me think of the bread and juice used in Communion—if someone is hungry or thirsty, are the “holy elements” off-limits, or can they serve a person’s bodily needs, faith or no faith?—after all, when you think about it, the Last Supper was a dinner, not a bite of bread and a sip of sacramental wine)

The Church speaks of “rebirth” —a personal renaissance. What if we thought of this as a renovation, a renewal of the mind (the Apostle Paul wrote of this in Romans chapter 12: “Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.”). The exercise of our Reason can help renovate our thinking, re-positioning the furniture in the room to better fit the purposes, old and new.

Repurposing, renovating, renewing. Each can be a conscious act of re-awakening to the ways we utilize furniture (including books, ritual items, even sanctuaries or entire churches) to include or exclude, to create space for new thinking, perhaps new believing. What we sit on, and where we sit on it, can be transformative.

Sometimes I sit on the “sinners’ bench,” contemplating all the parishioners (naturally imperfect “sinners” like me), who once sat there. Smiling, I take a deep breath, sensing I’ve done quite a lot of renovation, repurposing the old, for the new.

Chris

(As you may notice, unlike many church pews, ours is cushioned!)