On April 14th, 2024, Rev. Matt Sapp discusses experiences during solar eclipses and mystical encounters related to music and divine presence. He also talks about our choir's upcoming performance at Carnegie Hall.
Today's message is based on John 14:27: Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.
This episode contains three parts of our service, each of which can be found at the time stamps below:
00:00 - The Welcome and Invocation
01:32 - Sermon: Love Abounds in All
17:11 - The Benediction
- where all generations worship, grow, and serve together.
- where women and men have equal opportunities for leadership.
- where traditional worship is engaged with excellence.
- and where diverse approaches to Christian faith and theology all find themselves at home under the lordship of Christ.
Want to learn more about Central? Visit our website at centralbaptistnewnan.org or give us a call at 770-683-0610.
[00:00:00]
Matt Sapp:
This is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it. Good morning, and welcome to worship at Central Baptist Church. At this special time this morning, as 60 about 60 of our members are in New York City this weekend, including 3 of our ministers chansel choir. This morning, as we worship, we are guided by the texts that our choir will be singing tomorrow night. Texts both from scripture and from the great saints of our faith. We gather for worship each week at central because we believe that the shared experience of God has the power to transform us, sometimes like a lightning bolt.
But most often, transformation happens gradually over time through regular habits and practices, like the habit of gathering for worship. So my prayer for you and my prayer for me this morning is as it is every week, that God might use these Heavenly father, we gather for worship to join with all creation in lifting our voices and our songs of praise to you. It's a privilege to be in your presence and to be together in your sanctuary. May our worship be pleasing to you as we offer our whole selves. In Jesus' name, amen.
Tim Urban writes the blog post Wait But Why? And last week, he wrote about last Monday's eclipse. There are about 70 total solar eclipses each century, each resulting in just a thin path of total sun blockage. And for most of history, there was no way to know when or where they would happen, but now we can. So last week, Tim Urban ended up traveling to Arkansas to a place in the dead center of the totality path. The sky was perfectly clear. Here's how he describes it. 30 minutes until totality, I looked through my glasses at a crescent sun. It seemed a little dimmer out than usual, but only a little.
20 minutes. Thinner crescent. A tad dimmer. Maybe slightly cooler than it was before. 10 minutes. A razor thin crescent now, definitely weird lighting. Shadows are very sharp. You can see the shadow of individual hairs on my head. One minute. It's very dim like early evening, but still feels like daytime generally. Waves of light and dark ripple across the ground like the way light moves at the bottom of a swimming pool. 5 seconds. Diamond ring. Just that one last glimpse of sunlight. I take off my glasses and the diamond ring looks strikingly beautiful and strange. 4321.
The earth's dimmer switch suddenly goes down as dim daylight drops into night totality. It was a totally surreal experience, he writes. Something that reminded you you didn't live in a big world, but on the edge of a tiny rock floating through the vastness of outer space. A glimpse of truth about reality. I saw 1 sphere positioned in front of another sphere with 2 spheres, Venus and Jupiter floating nearby. More than ever before, he says, it felt obvious that I was standing on the edge of a 5th sphere. For the first time in my life, he writes, I was looking at the solar system. I looked around. It was dark.
There was a 360 degree sunset along the entire horizon. By a minute in, there was a chorus of crickets chirping at 2 in the afternoon. And then the moon moved on. The sun peaked out, and it was over. Hildegard of Bingen was a German Christian mystic who lived about a 1000 years ago. Among other things, she has grown famous for her writings and her visions. She writes, from my early childhood before my bones, nerves and veins were fully strengthened, I have always seen this vision in my soul. Even to the present time when I am now more than 70 years old. In this vision, my soul, as God would have it, rises up high into the vault of heaven and into the changing sky and spreads itself out among the different bodies.
And because I see the visions this way in my soul, I observe them in accord with the shifting clouds and other created things. I do not hear them with my outward ears nor do I perceive them by the thoughts of my own heart or by any combination of my 5 senses, but in my soul alone while my outward eyes are open. The light which I see in my visions is not spatial. I can measure neither height nor length nor breadth in it. I call it the reflection of the living light. And as the sun, the moon, and the stars appear in water, so my writings, sermons, and virtues take form for me and glean.
Back in 2017, during the last solar eclipse, the one before this week, I took a group from my previous church, Heritage Fellowship in Canton, Georgia. I took a group of us up to the Raven Gap, Tallulah Falls area of far northeast Georgia so that we could see that solar eclipse in its totality. Here's what I wrote about that experience as soon as we got home. When the moon had almost completely obscured the sun that Monday, maybe by 98% or so, the quality of the light changed. A little softer maybe. The different hues took on a bit of a pastel quality perhaps. The colors became a bit more gauzy like a faded photograph.
I can be a little bit of a science nerd. I I'm fascinated by by physics and the exploration of the universe. It's amazing to me what scientists have been able to figure out just by charting the courses of the heavenly bodies across the sky. So I was pretty excited to see this eclipse back in 2017. In fact, I was so excited that I worried that I'd built my hopes up too big that I would end up being disappointed by the experience. I wasn't. The setting was perfect. Green fields and rolling hills, mountains in the distance, bright colored umbrellas spread out across an open field shading us from the sun. Music and food trucks and frisbees and football across that big open field as we all waited together. Fresh tomato sandwiches were sold around the edges at tables by local vendors.
Scientists with telescopes were scattered about, inviting us all to have a look through their eyepieces as the moon began to pass in front of the sun. And then as the decisive moment got closer, we all ran back to our blankets and chairs and the quality of light began to change. I'd read about it from others who had experienced eclipses before. It was one of the things I was most looking forward to experiencing, this change in the light, and it was otherworldly. And then just like the flip of a switch, it happened. What had been gradual before was gradual no more. The sun disappeared completely behind the moon.
And for the first time in my life, I was able to look directly at the sun or rather at where the sun should have been. It was gone. In its place was just a black disc hanging up in the darkened sky with a ring of soft white light around it. I had a physical reaction to the event. My heart beat faster. My breathing became shallower. I was immediately aware that what I was experiencing would not last as long as I wanted it to. So I was conscious of trying to take it all in while I could. I paid attention to the temperature. It was cooler like they said it would be.
I I paid attention to the sounds. Where I was, it was just serenely quiet. I paid attention to the people around me all enraptured as I was at what we were experiencing together. The sky around the eclipsed sun was not black like night, but strangely purple. A few stars peeking through. The horizon in the mountains in the distance just barely visible in the darkened sky, visible with an eerie quality that words just won't do justice. But it isn't the darkness you remember. It's the profoundly strangely new quality of the light, the illumination.
Like Peter at the transfiguration, I wanted to say, let's just set up tents and stay right here forever. That's what I saw. What's more difficult is to describe how I felt. Somewhat overwhelmed, I guess, even warmed. Inwardly warmed by the shared experience out there in the field, intimately aware of the power and presence of God, some people in that field shouted with joy. Some people cried. It was a spiritual experience, a mystical experience. The experience in its totality, pardon the pun, was all that I had hoped it would be and more. And it has lingered with me for nearly 7 years now.
At the conclusion of one of her visions, Hildegard of Bingen wrote, love abounds in all from the depths most excellent to beyond the stars. That's how I felt for those 4 minutes when the moon completely obscured the sun. Love abounds in all from the depths most excellent to beyond the stars. And that love abounds in all texts from Hildegard. It's one of the 5 texts to a luminare, the piece that members of our choir will be singing in New York City tomorrow night. The piece is divided into 5 movements. It's about light and love and darkness and peace and light again.
Each of the 5 sections takes its text from an early Christian father or mother, including the quote from Saint Ambrose that appears in your worship guide as our meditation this morning. Splendor of God's glory bring forth light from light. In addition to the church fathers and mothers, Elaine Hagenberg's choral piece uses 2 pieces of scripture. Joel read the main one for you earlier in worship this morning. It's from the gospel of Luke, the the song of Zechariah. Illuminate those in darkness and guide our feet into the path of peace. The other text comes from John 14.
The illuminare coral piece is just over 20 minutes long. We've been referencing the English translations here from Saint Ambrose and from Hildegard and from Luke chapter 1, but the whole thing is sung in Latin. It's not in English at all. All of the luminare is presented in Latin, all except for one section, which appears about 18 minutes in. Just two sentences of the whole thing are presented in English. As you might imagine, that makes them really stand out. John chapter 14 verse 27. Peace I leave with you. My peace I give to you, not as the world gives.
So do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid. In a choral piece about light, the only words in English are about peace. The light of God's presence bringing an otherworldly peace not as the world gives. And when you listen to the music, as many of you had the chance to do at the Nixon Center a few weeks ago and as 2,000 people will have a chance to do at Carnegie Hall tomorrow night. As you listen to the music, that's what you feel. The light of God's presence bringing an otherworldly peace.
The experience of great music expertly presented is a bit of a mystical experience. When you listen to the music, that's what you feel. The power of God's presence to bring an otherworldly kind of peace. Illuminaire moves from light to darkness and back to light again with the experiences of love and peace woven in like a solar eclipse and just as powerful. Whether listening to great music expertly presented or standing in an open field as the moon obscures the sun, when you experience the mystical new quality of the light, Illuminaire.
When you feel intimately and exponentially connected to the powerful truth of the presence of God, Here's what you also know. Love abounds in all from the depths most excellent to beyond the stars. It's It's all out there waiting for us. Scripture says, if we ask for it, it will be given. If we seek for it, we will find. If we knock, the door will be opened. Doors of perception and experience and peace and love and truth. I hope we all leave this hour of worship encouraged and emboldened to be faithful representatives both of our church and of our lord Jesus Christ. Thank you for joining us for worship this morning. Would you bow with me please now for our benediction? Depart now in peace and as you go, may the God who makes all things holy and whole make you holy and whole, puts you together spirit, soul, and body, and keep you fit for the coming of our master, Jesus Christ, in whose name we pray.
Amen.
This is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it. Good morning, and welcome to worship at Central Baptist Church. At this special time this morning, as 60 about 60 of our members are in New York City this weekend, including 3 of our ministers chansel choir. This morning, as we worship, we are guided by the texts that our choir will be singing tomorrow night. Texts both from scripture and from the great saints of our faith. We gather for worship each week at central because we believe that the shared experience of God has the power to transform us, sometimes like a lightning bolt.
But most often, transformation happens gradually over time through regular habits and practices, like the habit of gathering for worship. So my prayer for you and my prayer for me this morning is as it is every week, that God might use these Heavenly father, we gather for worship to join with all creation in lifting our voices and our songs of praise to you. It's a privilege to be in your presence and to be together in your sanctuary. May our worship be pleasing to you as we offer our whole selves. In Jesus' name, amen.
Tim Urban writes the blog post Wait But Why? And last week, he wrote about last Monday's eclipse. There are about 70 total solar eclipses each century, each resulting in just a thin path of total sun blockage. And for most of history, there was no way to know when or where they would happen, but now we can. So last week, Tim Urban ended up traveling to Arkansas to a place in the dead center of the totality path. The sky was perfectly clear. Here's how he describes it. 30 minutes until totality, I looked through my glasses at a crescent sun. It seemed a little dimmer out than usual, but only a little.
20 minutes. Thinner crescent. A tad dimmer. Maybe slightly cooler than it was before. 10 minutes. A razor thin crescent now, definitely weird lighting. Shadows are very sharp. You can see the shadow of individual hairs on my head. One minute. It's very dim like early evening, but still feels like daytime generally. Waves of light and dark ripple across the ground like the way light moves at the bottom of a swimming pool. 5 seconds. Diamond ring. Just that one last glimpse of sunlight. I take off my glasses and the diamond ring looks strikingly beautiful and strange. 4321.
The earth's dimmer switch suddenly goes down as dim daylight drops into night totality. It was a totally surreal experience, he writes. Something that reminded you you didn't live in a big world, but on the edge of a tiny rock floating through the vastness of outer space. A glimpse of truth about reality. I saw 1 sphere positioned in front of another sphere with 2 spheres, Venus and Jupiter floating nearby. More than ever before, he says, it felt obvious that I was standing on the edge of a 5th sphere. For the first time in my life, he writes, I was looking at the solar system. I looked around. It was dark.
There was a 360 degree sunset along the entire horizon. By a minute in, there was a chorus of crickets chirping at 2 in the afternoon. And then the moon moved on. The sun peaked out, and it was over. Hildegard of Bingen was a German Christian mystic who lived about a 1000 years ago. Among other things, she has grown famous for her writings and her visions. She writes, from my early childhood before my bones, nerves and veins were fully strengthened, I have always seen this vision in my soul. Even to the present time when I am now more than 70 years old. In this vision, my soul, as God would have it, rises up high into the vault of heaven and into the changing sky and spreads itself out among the different bodies.
And because I see the visions this way in my soul, I observe them in accord with the shifting clouds and other created things. I do not hear them with my outward ears nor do I perceive them by the thoughts of my own heart or by any combination of my 5 senses, but in my soul alone while my outward eyes are open. The light which I see in my visions is not spatial. I can measure neither height nor length nor breadth in it. I call it the reflection of the living light. And as the sun, the moon, and the stars appear in water, so my writings, sermons, and virtues take form for me and glean.
Back in 2017, during the last solar eclipse, the one before this week, I took a group from my previous church, Heritage Fellowship in Canton, Georgia. I took a group of us up to the Raven Gap, Tallulah Falls area of far northeast Georgia so that we could see that solar eclipse in its totality. Here's what I wrote about that experience as soon as we got home. When the moon had almost completely obscured the sun that Monday, maybe by 98% or so, the quality of the light changed. A little softer maybe. The different hues took on a bit of a pastel quality perhaps. The colors became a bit more gauzy like a faded photograph.
I can be a little bit of a science nerd. I I'm fascinated by by physics and the exploration of the universe. It's amazing to me what scientists have been able to figure out just by charting the courses of the heavenly bodies across the sky. So I was pretty excited to see this eclipse back in 2017. In fact, I was so excited that I worried that I'd built my hopes up too big that I would end up being disappointed by the experience. I wasn't. The setting was perfect. Green fields and rolling hills, mountains in the distance, bright colored umbrellas spread out across an open field shading us from the sun. Music and food trucks and frisbees and football across that big open field as we all waited together. Fresh tomato sandwiches were sold around the edges at tables by local vendors.
Scientists with telescopes were scattered about, inviting us all to have a look through their eyepieces as the moon began to pass in front of the sun. And then as the decisive moment got closer, we all ran back to our blankets and chairs and the quality of light began to change. I'd read about it from others who had experienced eclipses before. It was one of the things I was most looking forward to experiencing, this change in the light, and it was otherworldly. And then just like the flip of a switch, it happened. What had been gradual before was gradual no more. The sun disappeared completely behind the moon.
And for the first time in my life, I was able to look directly at the sun or rather at where the sun should have been. It was gone. In its place was just a black disc hanging up in the darkened sky with a ring of soft white light around it. I had a physical reaction to the event. My heart beat faster. My breathing became shallower. I was immediately aware that what I was experiencing would not last as long as I wanted it to. So I was conscious of trying to take it all in while I could. I paid attention to the temperature. It was cooler like they said it would be.
I I paid attention to the sounds. Where I was, it was just serenely quiet. I paid attention to the people around me all enraptured as I was at what we were experiencing together. The sky around the eclipsed sun was not black like night, but strangely purple. A few stars peeking through. The horizon in the mountains in the distance just barely visible in the darkened sky, visible with an eerie quality that words just won't do justice. But it isn't the darkness you remember. It's the profoundly strangely new quality of the light, the illumination.
Like Peter at the transfiguration, I wanted to say, let's just set up tents and stay right here forever. That's what I saw. What's more difficult is to describe how I felt. Somewhat overwhelmed, I guess, even warmed. Inwardly warmed by the shared experience out there in the field, intimately aware of the power and presence of God, some people in that field shouted with joy. Some people cried. It was a spiritual experience, a mystical experience. The experience in its totality, pardon the pun, was all that I had hoped it would be and more. And it has lingered with me for nearly 7 years now.
At the conclusion of one of her visions, Hildegard of Bingen wrote, love abounds in all from the depths most excellent to beyond the stars. That's how I felt for those 4 minutes when the moon completely obscured the sun. Love abounds in all from the depths most excellent to beyond the stars. And that love abounds in all texts from Hildegard. It's one of the 5 texts to a luminare, the piece that members of our choir will be singing in New York City tomorrow night. The piece is divided into 5 movements. It's about light and love and darkness and peace and light again.
Each of the 5 sections takes its text from an early Christian father or mother, including the quote from Saint Ambrose that appears in your worship guide as our meditation this morning. Splendor of God's glory bring forth light from light. In addition to the church fathers and mothers, Elaine Hagenberg's choral piece uses 2 pieces of scripture. Joel read the main one for you earlier in worship this morning. It's from the gospel of Luke, the the song of Zechariah. Illuminate those in darkness and guide our feet into the path of peace. The other text comes from John 14.
The illuminare coral piece is just over 20 minutes long. We've been referencing the English translations here from Saint Ambrose and from Hildegard and from Luke chapter 1, but the whole thing is sung in Latin. It's not in English at all. All of the luminare is presented in Latin, all except for one section, which appears about 18 minutes in. Just two sentences of the whole thing are presented in English. As you might imagine, that makes them really stand out. John chapter 14 verse 27. Peace I leave with you. My peace I give to you, not as the world gives.
So do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid. In a choral piece about light, the only words in English are about peace. The light of God's presence bringing an otherworldly peace not as the world gives. And when you listen to the music, as many of you had the chance to do at the Nixon Center a few weeks ago and as 2,000 people will have a chance to do at Carnegie Hall tomorrow night. As you listen to the music, that's what you feel. The light of God's presence bringing an otherworldly peace.
The experience of great music expertly presented is a bit of a mystical experience. When you listen to the music, that's what you feel. The power of God's presence to bring an otherworldly kind of peace. Illuminaire moves from light to darkness and back to light again with the experiences of love and peace woven in like a solar eclipse and just as powerful. Whether listening to great music expertly presented or standing in an open field as the moon obscures the sun, when you experience the mystical new quality of the light, Illuminaire.
When you feel intimately and exponentially connected to the powerful truth of the presence of God, Here's what you also know. Love abounds in all from the depths most excellent to beyond the stars. It's It's all out there waiting for us. Scripture says, if we ask for it, it will be given. If we seek for it, we will find. If we knock, the door will be opened. Doors of perception and experience and peace and love and truth. I hope we all leave this hour of worship encouraged and emboldened to be faithful representatives both of our church and of our lord Jesus Christ. Thank you for joining us for worship this morning. Would you bow with me please now for our benediction? Depart now in peace and as you go, may the God who makes all things holy and whole make you holy and whole, puts you together spirit, soul, and body, and keep you fit for the coming of our master, Jesus Christ, in whose name we pray.
Amen.
