Tomorrow, Biden will be flown out of the White House on a prestigious helicopter who’s call sign will be Marine One. While Biden is in midair, Trump will be on the steps of the capitol being “sworn in.” And just like that, a declaration, and the precious, sacred Marine One magically bumps down to Marine Two. A collective shift, and voila “Habemus Papam!” –  well, not exactly, but you get the drift. It’s as esoteric as white smoke or dark smoke coming from the Vatican chimney. It’s all smokey to me. But I declare.

It might seem ungodly to use pagan words in a church service. But today’s communion anthem, “A Gaelic Blessing,” by John Rutter does just that. It’s from a William Sharp novel called The Dominion of Dreams. Sharp was part of Celtic Revivalism, which sought to bring back ancient practices of Brittonic mysticism. He was also pagan, which is a spiritual movement that includes a variety of nature-based religions. Rutter inserted the words – “Christ the light of the world,” and just like that, “Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo,” these profane, paganistic words are suitable for church. Wait a minute, who says? I declare.

Profane means ungodly. From Latin (pro) meaning before and (fanum) meaning temple. These words of our anthem seem to be about nature, something outside of the temple. Rutter has set this text with a serene, heavenly melody and a wafting harmony. It’s lush. But mostly, it’s an homage to the deep peace of the natural world. If you sit long enough in nature, she’ll sanctify you and entertain you. I suppose if you sit long enough in church, you’ll be “entertained” too. When we sing spirituals, you all can’t help but applaud our “performance.” Nature performs and sanctifies. It could be a passing bird, a gust of wind, or a small creature scurrying. What deep peace… that is, until a passing car “ruins” your transcendental experience with the profanity of a rumbling exhaust and excruciating, thumping rap music. Ungodly heathens! Unnatural, profane pests they are! Ruining the sanctity of nature. So ungodly. But again, I declare.

All the sages have sung the virtues of nature. Jesus even spent time in the wilderness, saying of the daisies, “yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his glory and splendor dressed himself like one of these.” All the odes to mother earth are juxtaposed with the laments of humanity’s ruination of it, so we run to the church to ask God to save us from the profane heathens. Ok, then how do you solve a problem like Maria? Don’t label her “a problem.” White smoke, dark smoke, no smoke – what are you smoking? But I declare!

The sanctity and profanity of nature is weird. What’s outside the church is often holier than what I’ve seen in a church! The lines of this so-called division blur, and smoke gets in my eyes. Do you look out at the sea and feel alive and refreshed; then get nauseous while looking out at “the sea” of people clogging up I- 275 with their annoying brake lights? I declare, all these unnatural humans standing in the way of my deep peace!

If you want deep peace, include everyone and everything in your love and admiration of the “natural world.” It’s all under one jurisdiction. The line of difference between secular and divine blurs. Habemus Papam are mere words, like “Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo.” But when the labels are removed, what’s left? Pagan words in a sacred service? Sounds smokey to me, but I might just be blowing smoke. I’ll go back to blowing dust out of the organ pipes instead. That’s more entertaining. Soli Deo Gloria!