Last Sunday, my family and I did something that doesn’t happen often—we took the day off. A rare and much-needed sabbath for our household. We spent it in Chicago with dear family friends visiting from out of town, soaking in some of the city’s best: Lou Malnati’s deep-dish pizza (which never disappoints) and the Museum of Science and Industry.
Now, even when I’m not preaching or leading worship, I can’t seem to turn off the part of my brain that’s always thinking about faith, theology, and the church. And wouldn’t you know it—this “day off” turned into a day of sacred discovery.
Two exhibits at the museum really clicked; not just because they were beautifully done (they were), but because they stirred something spiritual within me.
The first was The Blue Paradox, a powerful and immersive dive into the crisis of plastic pollution in our oceans. MSI describes it like this:
“Explore the pervasiveness of plastic pollution and the steps we can take to address it.
An ocean loaded with plastic garbage. Beaches overwhelmed with waste. Microplastics in our food and drinks.
…The paradox? Our use of plastic in daily life has led modern society to advances and convenience, but also to one of our planet’s biggest pollution issues. The problem can be overcome, but it will first take our awareness and then our resolution to take action.”
Walking through the exhibit, I was struck by the vivid visuals—the sea choked with plastic, the silent suffering of marine life, the haunting sounds beneath the waves. It was hard not to think of the Genesis command for us to be caretakers of creation. The exhibit didn’t use scripture, but it preached all the same. This is God’s world, and we have a responsibility not just to enjoy it, but to protect it. It made me wonder: what if we treated creation care as a spiritual discipline?
Then came another surprise: Notes to Neurons. This one was all about music—its emotional power, its neurological impact, and its ability to connect us at a molecular level. There were interactive experiences, audio displays, and even a stirring rendition of Amazing Grace that moved the room. One section explored how music connects us across life’s most sacred moments—weddings, funerals, communal gatherings—and how science still can’t fully explain its impact.
Standing there, I thought of our own worship services—how a hymn can unite hearts, how a melody can carry prayers when words fail. No wonder people of faith are so drawn to song. It’s one of the ways God knits us together. Whether or not science can explain it, we know the truth: music is holy.
So, here’s what I’ve been sitting with since that day: even on a Sunday off, faith finds me. Maybe you’ve had that experience too. A sunset that feels like a benediction. A conversation that feels like prayer. A museum exhibit that feels like a sermon.
I don’t know what you do when you take a Sunday off. But I hope you give yourself permission to rest—and to be surprised. I hope you stumble into wonder. I hope your eyes are opened to the sacred in the ordinary. And maybe, like me, you’ll even find a new way to think about your faith… and to practice it, too.
Grace and peace,
