Re-enchanting The Church

Conference Lecture for the Upcoming "Re-enchanting The World Conference"

Introduction

This essay marks the final steps in crafting my lecture for this year’s Re-enchanting the World Conference, to be held amidst the wooded hills of Logan, West Virginia, at the Chief Logan Lodge & Conference Center. For those inclined to join us in person, a reservation may be secured here. Speakers other than myself will be S.D. Smith, author of The Green Ember series, as well as C.R. Wiley, author of a host of books, podcast host, and Senior Editor at Touchstone Magazine.

But before we explore the way forward, we must justify the journey itself. Why speak of re-enchantment at all? Why summon the imagination to the task of renewing what seems, to many, like a hopelessly fragmented world?

The answer lies in a malaise that has long settled over the West, a condition many have named “disenchantment.” By this term, we mean not only the loss of wonder but the estrangement of the spiritual from the material, a rupture most clearly articulated in the Enlightenment's severing of nature from supernature.

Immanuel Kant and his successors proposed a view of the world in which all that is sacred, all that speaks of transcendence, was banished to a far-off realm. A separate, unknowable "beyond."¹ What we inherited from this shift is what I shall call enlightenment nominalism, the view that the spiritual and material are no longer intertwined but exist as disjointed categories, their unity dismissed as myth or fancy.

“Enlightenment nominalism" refers to the philosophical shift, rooted in pre-Enlightenment nominalism, which posited a disconnection between forms or ideals and the material world. This trajectory culminated in Immanuel Kant's separation of nature and supernature, arguing that the transcendent realm is unknowable and distinct from the material. By uniting 'Enlightenment' and 'nominalism,' the term encapsulates the historical and intellectual lineage that fractured the unity of the spiritual and the material, leading to a worldview where sacred meaning is detached from the physical cosmos.

And so, the cosmos once known as a living cathedral, resounding with the echoes of eternity, has become instead a sterile and silent machine, humming away like a server farm tucked in the bowels of some nameless corporate tower; cool, efficient, indifferent, processing data but never wisdom, glowing with artificial light yet untouched by glory. It is not simply that we no longer see the world as enchanted; it is that we no longer believe such a world is possible.

Disenchantment, as a word, seems to suggest the breaking of a spell, as if we have awakened from a dream and now see the world as it truly is; flat, inert, and lifeless.

Yet I contend this framing is itself a part of the problem.

What if we are not “disenchanted” in the sense of waking from illusion as enlightened people, but rather the victims of a darker enchantment? What if we are under a spell that masks the world’s true nature, casting a spell of dreariness over creation, blinding us to the glory that is there still? What if we are not disenchanted, as if freed from the magical. What if we are enchanted by a sorcery of sterility. A spell whose effect is to render the cosmos dull and lifeless, convincing us that this dim view is all there is.

C.S. Lewis spoke of this evil enchantment in his sermon titled The Weight of Glory. He said:

“Do you think I am trying to weave a spell? Perhaps I am; but remember your fairy tales. Spells are used for breaking enchantments as well as for inducing them. And you and I have need of the strongest spell that can be found to wake us from the evil enchantment of worldliness which has been laid upon us for nearly a hundred years. Almost our whole education has been directed to silencing this shy, persistent, inner voice; almost all our modern philosophies have been devised to convince us that the good of man is to be found on this earth.” ²

The result of this enchantment is catastrophic. When Lewis says that all of our modern philosophies have been devised to convince us that the good of man is to be found on the earth, what he’s referring to is the enlightenment super-nominalism that ruptures the natural and supernatural. The church is no longer a gateway to heaven but an institutional relic. The cosmos is no longer a theater for God’s glory filled with heavenly beings, but a void. And we, as inheritors of this grim worldview, find ourselves cut off from the deeper rhythms of reality, unable to hear the music of the spheres or to discern the radiant presence of God within all things.

And so, our task is not merely to speak of enchantment but to awaken to it. To break the false spell and recover the truth of the world as it was meant to be: brimming with the grandeur of God, drawing us upward, further up and further in, into the heavenlies.

The pressing question is no longer merely academic or philosophical. It is existential and urgent. How do we shatter the cold enchantment that has dulled our vision, numbed our affections, and made the radiant glory of reality seem flat and unremarkable? We live beneath a spell, but not one of wonder. Ours is a dark enchantment, one that masquerades as realism while quietly draining the color from creation and the hope from human hearts. It is the spell of worldliness, of thinking in purely economic, functional, or utilitarian terms; of forgetting heaven; of believing only in what can be measured, marketed, or monetized.

To break such a spell requires more than logic or argument. It requires a deeper magic, something primal and poetic, something that stirs the soul awake. As C.S. Lewis wisely reminds us, “Remember your fairy tales. Spells are used for breaking enchantments as well as for inducing them.” We need such a spell now. A counter-incantation powerful enough to rouse us from this spiritual slumber, to unmask the hollow lies of modern disenchantment, and to reintroduce us to the blazing, beautiful truth that the world is not a machine, but a mystery; alive, ordered, and charged with the grandeur of God.

Re-enchanting The Christian Imagination

The journey must begin, as we have already noted, with the imagination. In our sessions that follow, we will come to understand the vital role of the Christian imagination and how mediums such as fiction, poetry, and art serve to, in the words of Samuel Coleridge, "remove the film of familiarity" from our eyes, allowing us to see the world anew. ³

The imagination is vital, because whether we know it or not, it is the organ through which we perceive and envision the unseen. Calvin spoke of the sensus divinitatis; a sense of divinity through which we perceive the divine and transcendent. This sense, much like the imagination, serves as a faculty for grasping the unseen, enabling us to discern traces of God’s glory woven into the world and to reach beyond the material toward the eternal. This is precisely why there is a battle for the imagination in our age.

Consider why multi-million-dollar conglomerates spend so much time and resources on reimagining the fairy tales of old, weaving subtle twists and spins into their retellings. If you can capture the imagination of a generation, you can shape how they see the world, what they deem good, true, and beautiful, and, in turn, influence the very framework of their beliefs and values.

And this brings us back to Lewis, and further still to Tolkien. To "remembering our fairy tales." Fairy tales are not the frivolous, childish things we’ve been led to believe. As Tolkien wrote in his essay On Fairy-Stories, they are far more than mere escapism. They are a means of escape into reality. Fairy tales remind us of truths too grand to grasp in plain prose. ⁴ They point us to the eternal, restoring the wonder and longing that modernity seeks to suppress.

This is beautifully illustrated in the fairy tales woven by Tolkien and Lewis. In Lewis’s The Chronicles of Narnia, we are reminded that there is a world beyond the wardrobe, a realm unseen but no less real. ⁵ It is a world brimming with seas and castles, kings and queens, witches, and lions. These stories awaken us to the truth that there is more beyond the veil of the ordinary, a reality teeming with meaning and wonder.

The Bible itself reveals this unseen realm. It is a world not only inhabited by spiritual beings like angels and demons, but also by the saints, the sons of Adam in Christ, ruling and reigning with Him. It is a world where horses and chariots carry God’s armies, where mansions await, where heavenly armories are prepared, and where thrones testify to divine authority. A truly good fairy story serves as a reminder of these realities, teaching us that everything here participates in its eternal, perfected ideal there. These tales point us toward the deeper truth that this world is not all there is. It is but a shadow of the greater, eternal glory yet to be revealed.

For example, in Tolkien’s The Silmarillion, we are reminded of a Creator who brought the world into existence through song, structuring and creating reality with divine music. In this tale, He creates spiritual beings, the Valar and Maiar, who serve as stewards of creation, each with dominion over certain aspects of the world. ⁶ It is a vision that reflects the harmony and purpose imbued in the cosmos by its Maker.

This story echoes the Great Story, the Bible, where God speaks the world into existence, and His Word brings forth light, order, and life. As the foundations of the earth were laid, the sons of God, the heavenly host, sang for joy (Job 38:7).

Both Tolkien’s myth and Scripture remind us that creation is not a sterile mechanism but a living, harmonious symphony, filled with spiritual beings who magnify the Creator’s glory.

Ultimately, all these stories are reflections of the Great Story; the true and eternal narrative. They remind us that the world is a place of wonder, alive with enchantment and charged with a sublime beauty that stirs the soul. As G.K. Chesterton observed, if the world is infused with magic, there must surely be a Magician. If it is adorned with beauty, there must be an Artist who crafted it. For magic and beauty do not arise from nothing. They flow from the hand of the Creator, whose glory shines through all that He has made. ⁷

Re-enchanting The Church

How, then, does this connect to the task of re-enchanting the church?

In truth, it lies at the very heart of the mission. Without an imagination redeemed and set free by Christ, the church risks becoming a wasteland. A desolate battleground overrun by the forces of Mordor and their creeping darkness. Indeed, in many cases, this has already come to pass. Countless shepherds and churches have fallen under the sway of this dark enchantment, embracing ideologies that insists all good is to be found within this world alone. This has led to distortions such as “love is love,” “amen and awoman,” and a host of other teachings that bear the mark of orcish corruption, twisting what is true and beautiful into something grotesque and orcish.

Without a baptized imagination, the church becomes little more than an old wardrobe, forgotten and gathering dust in the corner of the world, instead of what it truly is: a shining gateway, drawing us into communion with the unseen realm where heaven and earth meet.

My task now is to weave a spell of my own. One that awakens your imagination to the Kingdom of God and peels away the film of familiarity from your eyes, so that you might behold the church anew.

Did you know that the church is, in fact, a mountain? It may not appear so as you step through its doors on a Sunday morning, but in reality, you are ascending the holy mountain of the Lord, following in the footsteps of Adam in Eden, Noah on Ararat, Abraham on Moriah, Moses on Sinai, and the disciples on the Mount of Transfiguration. Each gathering is far more than a mere meeting. It is a sacred ascent, a journey upward into the presence of God, where the ordinary is translated and we are transfigured by His glory.

The church is not only a holy mountain. It is also the sacred meeting place where we commune with God’s divine council. In the Sunday liturgy, heaven and earth are joined together, like holy matrimony.

The writer of Hebrews in Hebrews 12:22-24 writes:

“22 But ye are come unto mount Sion, and unto the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to an innumerable company of angels, 23 To the general assembly and church of the firstborn, which are written in heaven, and to God the Judge of all, and to the spirits of just men made perfect, 24 And to Jesus the mediator of the new covenant, and to the blood of sprinkling, that speaketh better things than that of Abel.” ⁸

In the Sunday liturgy, a spell is being woven, whether we realize it or not. But it is True Magic. We are drawn into the sacred enchantment of heaven and earth being brought back together through the spoken word of God. As we step through those arched doors that lift our gaze heavenward, moving past the gargoyles and beasts that watch from above, we leave the ordinary world behind and, in a sense, step into the wardrobe, a passage into a reality more real than the one we left.

We ascend into the heavenlies, not alone, but surrounded by an innumerable company of angels. Though unseen, all of God’s heavenly host joins us as we worship the King. And it is not only the angels who are present. but the saints are with us as well. As Hebrews reminds us, we gather with “the general assembly and church of the firstborn, which are written in heaven.” Your ancestors who died in Christ, the saints of old, and all those redeemed by His blood: they are present, joining their voices with ours in the eternal liturgy of heaven. Did you know that? Every time you gather for worship, you are part of a chorus that spans not just the globe but all of time and eternity.

In the sacraments, we truly commune with God. Though they appear as mere water, bread, and wine, we must remember the Mount of Transfiguration. On that holy mountain, not only were Moses and Christ transfigured, but the very nature of the moment was transformed. Everything that entered the divine presence became radiant with glory. So too are the sacraments in God’s presence. These humble elements are transfigured, made luminous and glorious.

I hope my point is becoming clear. Enchantment is all around us. The world is no less charged with wonder and divine magic than it ever was. The problem is not with creation itself but with our vision. It has become clouded by a dark enchantment that has veiled our eyes with scales. We walk in a world alive with the presence of God and His heavenly hosts, yet, like the Hebrews, we entertain angels unaware.

Every Lord’s Day, we step into something far more glorious than Narnia, Valinor, Hogwarts, or even Oxford. We enter into the reality they all dimly reflect. The Deeper Country, the Real Narnia, that Lewis so beautifully described. We step into the Valinor beyond Valinor, the world of Ideals, the heavenly Jerusalem that has come down to dwell among us.

Conclusion

So then, what are we to do with this reality? How can we cultivate lives filled with intentionality, spiritual presence, and the awareness of enchantment all around us?

First, we must restore sacred time in our daily lives. Reclaim the rhythm of sacred time by observing moments of intentional prayer and reflection throughout the day. Practices like the Liturgy of the Hours or a pattern of morning, midday, and evening prayers reorient the heart toward the sacred, breaking the monotony of secular time. Imagine beginning each day with thanksgiving, pausing at midday for intercession, and closing the evening by reflecting on God’s presence and gifts. Such rhythms mirror the divine order, just as the church calendar helps us anticipate the deeper movements of grace throughout the year.

Second, we must reclaim sacred space in our homes and churches. Transform your home and churches into a reflection of heavenly beauty by creating spaces dedicated to prayer, worship, or quiet meditation. A prayer corner with candles and Scripture can serve as a reminder of the sacred. Curate your home with art, music, and literature that lifts the soul heavenward. Make your dining table an altar of grace, where family meals become eucharistic moments of thanksgiving. Surround yourself with beauty that tells the story of redemption, hope, and the presence of God in all things.

Third, we must embrace the sacramental nature of creation itself. Alexander Schmemann, in For the Life of the World, identifies the sacred-secular divide as not only problematic but deeply unnatural. ⁹ This divide alienates us from God and blinds us to the sacramental nature of creation. Schmemann, along with theologians like Hans Boersma, argues that creation is inherently sacramental. ¹⁰This means that all of creation bears the capacity to commune with God because it lives, moves, and has its being in Him (cf. Acts 17:28). Humanity, Schmemann contends, is uniquely positioned as the mediator between heaven and earth, a priestly figure called to unite the two. This priestly calling is fulfilled as we receive the sacramental world as a gift from God and, with eucharistic thanksgiving, lift it back up to Him. Creation’s purpose is not to terminate on itself but to be an offering, a bridge of communion between Creator and creature. Consider the profound implications of embracing this sacramental worldview. What begins in the sacred liturgy of the Lord’s Day spills into our homes, as streams of living water flow from the Lord’s Table to our own kitchen tables, transforming every meal, every act, and every moment into a eucharistic offering.

Fourth, cultivate a life deeply rooted in the Great Tradition. This means not only engaging with the writings that have emerged from it, works by Augustine, Anselm, Dionysius the Areopagite, Dante, Tolkien, Lewis, Barfield, and others, but also embracing the worldview that shaped them. These thinkers and storytellers lived in a sacramental world, one where the spiritual and material were intertwined, where creation was alive with divine meaning. Their writings are more than mere intellectual treasures; they are windows into a way of seeing that we have largely forgotten.

Jason Baxter, in The Medieval Mind of C.S. Lewis, captures this beautifully when reflecting on Lewis’s view of Dante:

“Dante could teach modern writers how to cast those ‘spells’ . . . used for breaking enchantments, as he put it in his Weight of Glory sermon. Dante taught him how an artist could cast a ‘counter spell’ in which the good feels weighty and attractive, a spell to overcome the ‘evil enchantment’ cast by modernity.”¹¹

This insight is profound. Dante’s artistry offers a blueprint for how to craft works that awaken the soul, drawing us toward the good, the true, and the beautiful in a way that feels irresistible and substantial. Let the Great Tradition help you recover a vision of the world charged with wonder and divine significance.

Fifth, learn to cast your own “spells” through the creation of beauty. If you are an artist, let your sketches and paintings reflect the enchanting beauty of creation, drawing others into a sense of wonder and awe. If you are a musician, resist the pull of conformity to the trends of Contemporary Christian Music. You don’t need to mimic Hillsong, Bethel, or Elevation, which often chase the fleeting sounds of popular culture. Instead, aim higher. Listen to Allegri’s Miserere Mei Deus, a composition that seems to bring the very sounds of heaven down to earth. Or dive into the old timey Appalachian bluegrass/gospel that your grandfather sang. That is your calling as a priest who stands between heaven and earth: to let your music become a bridge, lifting the soul toward God. If you are a builder, consider purchasing a piece of land and designing a beautiful parish church; something that visibly points heavenward and stirs the heart to worship. Don’t be discouraged by the scale of such a vision, even if it’s a project too grand for a single lifetime. The Cologne Cathedral was a multigenerational endeavor, crafted with the understanding that creating beauty is often a legacy passed from one generation to the next. Whatever your craft, let it be a labor of love that re-enchants the world, reminding all who encounter it of the divine presence woven into the fabric of creation.

The task before us is nothing less than to awaken from the dark enchantment of modernity and reclaim the glory of a world alive with divine presence. We are not called to escape this world, but to transform it—to see its beauty, to name its goodness, to receive it with thanksgiving, and to offer it back to God in worship. The church must become again what it was always meant to be: a holy mountain, a radiant gateway, a living witness to the reality of heaven and earth united in Christ. This is our calling, our privilege, and our joy. Let us take up this sacred work with wonder and resolve, knowing that we do not labor alone. The angels and saints, the Great Tradition (and Great Cloud of Witnesses), and the Creator Himself stand with us, lifting our gaze and calling us further up and further in. So let us rise, spellbound not by the sterility of the age, but by the beauty, truth, and goodness of the eternal Kingdom breaking into our midst. Let us re-enchant the world.

Footnotes

1 Immanuel Kant, Critique of Pure Reason, trans. Norman Kemp Smith (London: Macmillan, 1929).

2 C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory and Other Addresses (New York: HarperOne, 2001), 26.

3 Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Biographia Literaria, Chapter 14 (1817).

4 J.R.R. Tolkien, On Fairy-Stories, in Tree and Leaf (London: HarperCollins, 2001).

5 C.S. Lewis, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (New York: HarperCollins, 1950).

6 J.R.R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion, ed. Christopher Tolkien (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1977).

7 G.K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy (New York: Image Books, 1959), Chapter 4.

8 The Holy Bible, King James Version, Hebrews 12:22–24.

9 Alexander Schmemann, For the Life of the World: Sacraments and Orthodoxy (Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir's Seminary Press, 1963).

10 Hans Boersma, Heavenly Participation: The Weaving of a Sacramental Tapestry (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2011).

11 Jason M. Baxter, The Medieval Mind of C.S. Lewis: How Great Books Shaped a Great Mind (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2022).