Sunday, January 07, 2018

Finding Joy at Church


Some people go to church for inspiration, others for instruction, meditation, some out of a sense of obligation, and a few, reluctantly. I go because I want to learn how to be a better person in this world we live in today, not so much to learn ancient biblical history. Today I also went because Jacob was an acolyte—he is the cutest acolyte! But what I left the church with was a sense of joy.

One of our associate ministers, Shannon Moore, simply bursts with enthusiasm. When he welcomes the congregation from the chancel steps, you know he means each and every individual. Even his prayers are joyful. At the communion table, he told a story about how as a young boy he’d hidden from his family while they searched every room in the house. When they found him and asked why he was silent, he said, “I thought I was lost.” It was, of course, an invitation not to be lost but to come to the table. And Shannon wore the most wonderful, cheery bright green socks.

Our new minister is a joyful person too. Today was the first time I had a chance to meet him and shake his hand, and when I said, “We’re glad you’re here,” his smile was broad as he replied, “I’m thrilled.” He really meant it. His sermon this morning, based on the Scripture where Jesus, as a young boy, educates the temple scholars, was titled, “Always Wear Clean Underwear.” He talked about the lists that all parents see equipped with, a list that includes “always wear clean underwear” and “never speak to your mother in that tone.” His point was that we are all the beloved children of God.

One poignant moment: at the end of the service, a family of four—mom, dad, and two young girls, joined the congregation. The younger of the girls, probably no more than three, looked very apprehensive as her family went to stand before the congregation. Gradually she backed away until she was back at the transept pew, where she stood watching. Attempts to approach her didn’t work—her parents tried, two ministers tried, a woman in the pew sat down on the floor to talk to her, and, in the most touching moment, her big sister, maybe five years old, came to put her arms around her and try to drag her to their parents. Nothing worked. Those of us who could see this little drama watched with amusement and concern for the obviously frightened child. As soon as the formalities were over, the dad picked her up and carried her in his arms, where she looked quite concerned. It was a perfect follow-up to Shannon's story of being a lost child. We are all lost in some ways.

I carried that sense of joy with me throughout the day. One of the things I look forward to as I get more mobile is being able to be more active in the church again. I once was. When my friend Betty was the organist and music director, I swore every time she had an odd chore to be done, she said, “Judy will do it.”

And a shout-out to neighbors Greg and Jamie: their son, his wife, and infant daughter were the Holy Family in the annual Boar’s Head Festival today. I am sure it was a thrill for them.

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