Arguing with myself

 

University Christian Church
Fort Worth

Today, my church, University Christian, celebrated its 150th anniversary with one huge service instead of the four separate services of a usual Sunday. The music was spectacular. Hymns and anthems from our traditional services blended with guitar accompaniment to “How Firm a Foundation: and “His Eye is on the Sparrow”; a powerful group of wind instruments contrasted with the folk-music feel of guitar; and a full choir soared to the high notes. Every minister on staff was involved in the service in some way, but the highlight was a dialogue between senior minister Russ Peterman and former senior minister Scott Colglazier on the future of the church, what the church of the next 150 years needs to be about. Visiting dignitaries made brief appearances—the mayor of Fort Worth, the president of TCU, the regional Disciples minister, and a representative of the national headquarters of the church. The congregational turnout was huge and enthusiastic. Even in these glum days, an air of optimism and gratitude and grace elevated the service. Afterward there was a celebratory reception with food and fellowship, and a lot of people I would have liked to see.

I wasn’t there. I watched the almost two-hour service online, which has some advantages: I could hear everything better than I often did in the sanctuary, and when the ministers were talking, it was as though they were sitting across my desk talking directly to me. I almost had an urge to reach out to Scott and say, “Hi, nice to see you again.” During his pastorate, I was most active in the church. My good friend and the director of music, Betty Boles, could always find things she thought I ought to do. And I did them willingly and happily. It’s a part of my life I miss now.

I argued with myself all week about going to this service. When I first heard about the plans I was excited, ready to be in the congregation. Since I don’t leave the cottage often, I think I should never miss an opportunity. But the more I thought about it, the more I questioned the wisdom of going. Christian would push me in the transport chair, but if it was as crowded as I expected it would be awkward and difficult. I didn’t want to go the reception because when you’re in a wheelchair at a reception where people, all standing, are milling around, you somehow seem to shrink. Been there, done that, felt like a child among giants.

So I attended virtually, and it turned out to be the right decision. When I heard one minister mention parking difficulties and the senior minister urge the congregation to used the exterior sidewalks to get to the reception and avoid traffic jams, I knew I’d made the right decision. Not only did I avoid what might have ranged from awkward to difficult, but I got full benefit out of the service—and yes, some inspiration. Jordan tells me she and Jean and Jeannie talked about how good it was that I wasn’t there. Sounds funny, but it was true.

And I was still in my pajamas the entire time.

There’s something about intuition, about listening to your gut. I find that more often than not my instincts are right, if I just have the courage to follow them. This was one of those days. To quote one of the ministers out of context, “Thanks be to God.”

And so we begin another week. Pray for peace.