Put a little splendor in your life

When I interviewed at my grad program over a year ago, one panel member asked the obvious ans tricky question of why I was applying when I currently was a full-time social work volunteer. How could I study antiques in a mansion when I was well-versed in urban poverty and infant mortality?
My response was that "there are two halves of me that have to co-exist, and that I try to reconcile."

That's still true. This past weekend in St. Louis was a much needed time to get in touch with my service half. It was great just to have fun with my wonderful posse of roommates and not worry about school. No one there got snobbish about furniture or made connections with noted scholars or played the "who is more stressed about school" game. Instead, we re-connected with people who were important to us and remembered the people we helped last year. Service requires humility and adaptability, and I like that.

On the other hand, I could feel my academic side itching to burrow into a book. For Sunday Mass we went to the cathedral on Lindell. I love that magnificent building so much I could just hug its marble columns. Sitting under the mosaic-covered domes and hearing the soaring organ, I remembered why I love the splendor of art and architecture and religious history. In that sacred space, I was just a drop in the ocean of magnificence and transcendence and Divinity and mystery. If my little thesis can help tell one story of how people experience God through worship, it will be worthwhile. Academia requires wonder and curiosity at how the world works, and I like that too.

Sometimes, rarely, the two halves work together. Like when I show the Urban Promise campers example pictures of great art. Louis Comfort Tiffany might not seem relevant to their inner city lives, but they loved his work. Today they oohed and ahhed at images of stained glass from churches and museums. A few even tried to replicate what they saw in their tissue paper crafts. In that moment, splendor and service combined. Everyone deserves some experience of awe-inspiring beauty, even noisy kids in a church basement.