A hushed air of solemnity, voices at a whisper, exquisitely, and seasonally, garbed choir and priest, stately readings of Scripture, fully scripted order of service for well-groomed, buttoned-up, sedately seated attendees. These all have beauty and reverence and a sense of the imminence of the Holy. And these elements draw the hearts of hundreds of thousands of worshipers to the throne of God Sunday after Sunday, in beautiful churches and cathedrals around the world. What this misses, for me, is a transposable connection to the lived reality of those worshipers the other six days of the week. What Jesus outlined for the disciples learning to live in Kingdom reality was shockingly physical, brutish even, chaotic, loud, painful. Talk of crucifixion, death, beatings, rejections, betrayals, eating his flesh and drinking his blood, leaving everything behind, denying family, constantly living as hated, unwelcome aliens – these were all elements of Jesus’ invitation to the glorious plan of Salvation.