Magic Circles and Thin Spaces

God is playing, and inviting you to play.

In 1938, a Dutch cultural historian named Johan Huizinga came up with–– or at least put words around–– a concept that gamers and storytellers and playful people have riffed on ever since:

The magic circle of play.

Here’s how it works: When a person enters the circle of play, they agree to a new reality. The circle is a place made by the players. When you’re in it, the rules of the circle apply––it has its own culture, its own rules, its own boundaries. (If you break them, you’re a cheater or a spoilsport.) When people make them up, they’re temporary. The ones that God makes, however, are not. (I added that last part myself.)

When I hang out near my son’s Dungeons & Dragons campaign, I hear these kids suddenly become other people: this crew are in their own realm. Who knew Ian had a Scottish brogue in his back pocket, and that Marsden had the quick wits needed to stymie a wizard? Rob had to miss the campaign for a couple of weeks, and, unfortunately, he’s now stuck in another dimension. But at least he’s in the same universe. If I were to suddenly pop into the discussion, things would get real awkward: I am not in the circle. I don’t know the story, I don’t know the rules, and I don’t speak gnomish.

The word illusion has Latin roots: it means “in-play”. Play often happens in its own world, its own dimension, in a magic circle of play. Those who play–– whether alone, a couple together, or thousands––have drawn the borders of their world, established their laws, and thrown themselves, heart and soul, into the play at hand.

Here’s the wonder: even though the circle is temporary, the happenings that have changed you while inside the magic circle of play stay inside of you. When the play-world of the circle locks back into the space/time continuum and you hop back out into an existence that’s fraught with challenging relationships, difficult work, and too little time and space to do too much, the magic that happened stays with you.

Theologian N.T. Wright describes the kingdom of God as God’s dimension–– anywhere that God is present is God’s Kingdom, God’s dimension. His ways of being abide. Supposing we considered this dimension, the Kingdom, as God’s circle of play? It is where God, and those God invites in, are present, delighted, creating, relating. Sounds like play here.

Celtic mystics have described thin places: places where somehow it is easier to feel the breath of God on the wind. Thin spaces are a circle of play with God. We tend to think of them in breathtakingly beautiful places––remote places, places laden with stories and meaning. Fair enough.

Guess what, though–– thin spaces can happen anywhere. Thomas Merton got looped into one at the corner of 4th and Walnut in Louisville.We can be in morning traffic when an exquisite sunrise catches us off-guard and we realize we’re in some kind of fairy tale. Laughing over a good meal with friends, helping a stranger, reciting a creed in church and remembering the wonder of what we’re up to around here–– can all suddenly pull the carpet out from under us. It’s like the opposite of the Upside-Down in Stranger Things––the hair on our arms stands up and suddenly we’re in another dimension, and we catch a glimpse of heaven. We are present, caught up, open, and don’t want to be anywhere else.

This whole world is God’s circle of play, waiting to happen. It’s all God’s playground, imagined/evoked/spoken as a grand invitation to enjoy God. Everything that’s created is a gallery, displaying God’s amazing Self from a bajillion points of view.

From Albany to the Andromeda Galaxy, circles of play abound. This is God’s beautiful, broken playground, and God can be found at play anytime, anywhere. Christ plays in ten thousand places. Sometimes we find them. Sometimes they find us.

The cool thing is that because God made time and space, they have a way of being amenable to play with God: it is the actual purpose of the materials. Anywhere you draw a line around a pocket of time and claim it as a place to play with God, God is game.

And, to be clear, when we say a circle of play is magic, we aren’t “making God do something.” God says that when we really look for Him, He’ll show up––this is God’s idea. Scripture is, among other things, a treasure hunt for places God tells us he can be found. He’s there when people who are watching for him get together. His image is all over the people in front of you. In creation. When mercy happens, when justice happens. Near brokenhearted people. Near joyful people.

The point of time and space and everything is for you to come to know God and let your jaw drop and your eyes go starry and your heart race, to explore and delight and follow the threads of wonder to their Maker. The point is that God, the Most Playful One, loves you and is inviting you to play.

Updates:

• Next Wednesday at 8 am Central I’m having a chat about play with my new friend, painter Joel Schoon-Tanis. He was in town a few weeks ago for a truly stellar couple of talks and exhibit openings, and man, he knows a thing or two about God at play. Y’all, he’s a delight, and talking about play with him is…play. Paid subscribers can jump in the live chat and join the conversation, we’ll post it for everyone afterwards.

  

• I had the loveliest talk with Charlotte Jones Voiklis. I’m still culling through notes, but look forward to sharing with you all.

• Play Book rolls along! Sophie Killingley and I are creating the visual element, one idea at a time. Right now Play Book feels like a puzzle. I’ve never been one of those writers who said, “I really like editing” but this time, I really do. Prayers please as I choose how to spend my time well every day. I’m picking up some substitute teaching and small side creative projects to help our family out. At times, doing family life and writing Play Book feels like a high wire act. We’re in the third act of creating this work, in my mind, and I want Play Book to be exactly what it’s supposed to be and get into the hands and hearts of exactly who it should belong to.

• I think I’m going to be using folks at my church as Play Book guinea pigs. :) I’m looking forward to this.

• Did you see Alysa Liu skate? Talk about play, man.

  I’m so glad for all of you. Thanks for being here. :)