In a secular age, where the sacred is pushed to the margins, to place the holy at the centre of our lives is an act of rebellion. We are resisting the cultural conspiracy that treats casually that which is divine. As Advent approaches, our celebration of sacred days becomes a way of resisting the attractions of the secular calendar. Our insurrection against the secular prizes holy moments, pursues the virtuous and prioritises that which is hallowed.  

But we create too much of a separation of the sacred from the secular at our peril. Our tendency to isolate sacred spaces from secular places reveals our lack of expectation to see God’s good gifts in every corner of His creation. The weightiness of His glory fills the entirety of His beautiful and broken world, not just a small sacred part of it. 

The whole earth is filled with His glory.

I see His glory in the changing seasons, in the falling leaves and the shortening days. 

I feel His glory when the warm-ish autumn sun strikes my face, as well as when I run in the chilling rain and I celebrate with joy, giving thanks for the life He’s given me.

I sense His glory in the busy crowds crammed full of His image-bearers, as well as in the sound of His silent whisper when the crowds are gone. 

I touch His glory when I hold the hand of a child, as well as when those same hands dig the soil and sow new seeds.

I become aware of His glory in the daily grind, as well as the unexpected life-giving interruptions that give birth to gratitude and delight. 

The whole earth is filled with His glory. 

I don’t take Christ into the world. He’s already there. I just need to engage my senses and notice. His sacred presence invades all spaces and all places. Heaven invades the earth. The sacred invades the secular. 

The perfect Son sinks His holy hands into the dust and the dirt.

The whole earth is filled with His glory.