When the Pilgrims Return

 

Wednesday, June 17, 2020

Psalm 126:1-6

When the Lord brought back his exiles to Jerusalem, it was like a dream!  We were filled with laughter, and we sang for joy.  And the other nations said, “What amazing things the Lord has done for them.”  Yes, the Lord has done amazing things for us!  What joy!  Restore our fortunes, Lord, as streams renew the desert.  Those who plant in tears will harvest with shouts of joy.  They weep as they go to plant their seed, but they sing as they return with the harvest.

This past Sunday Elizabeth and I attended a worship service of the outdoor sort, the final Sunday for my friend, Nathan Snyder, as pastor of Fairgrove UMC in Thomasville.  He is retiring from full time service, and it was good to be there as the congregation celebrated his four decades of ministry; it was a time filled with remembering and celebration, a time of joy.  They even had a Nathan-parade in lieu of a covered dish, as Nathan and his bride, Margaret, stood at the outdoor shelter and all the members drove past to wish their retiring pastor happy trails! 

During the last 3 months we have been enduring an exile of sorts.  Congregations all over the world have refrained from meeting in their gathering places, the place where worship is so familiar, and the hugs, handshakes, and conversations flow like refreshing streams of God’s glory.  Now we meet via pixel-resoluted screen times, flat-screened, and absent of the pulses of our brothers and sisters.  As for me, all I hear and sense of a live body in the room is my furry friend, Wellie, snoring beside me when I write, or record the latest sermon.  Stout Methodist as he is, Wellie is no match for the living, breathing human souls I long to be with.

I have gained a new appreciation of what it meant for the Israelites to be captives in a strange, foreign land…and then, they got to come home; it was a big deal.  They came singing, with joy-filled hearts and souls.  Their joy was so full other nations took note with amazement – what wonderful things the Lord has done!

And so, it is natural, as I look to the future, to relish that time when we get to come home – home to God’s spiritual body, gathered in joy and worship, instead of this drought-ship, dry, parched, quarantined existence.  In my mind there is a picture of God’s house, full of joy-filled faces, glad to be back – happy to be singing, praying, giving, loving, planning, serving….together!

Of course there will be some new flies in the ointment, so to speak.  Some will wear masks and gloves; hand sanitizer will be on order by the gallon, and some of it might feel strange for awhile.  It’s like that after a long absence; you want to get back, but what will it be like beyond just that first rush of joy?  I think I know; there will be sharing of our lives again, sharing all the stories of what has happened, guessing at why it all happened, and the catching-up that always happens.  And, somewhere past the strange uneasiness of discovering that change has happened, and the discomfort of knowing our world is different, we will find ourselves strangely renewed, hearts strangely warmed (as Mr. Wesley might say); we will awaken to the dawn of a new day of possibilities.  We will begin to open to a new moment, an era of letting the petty differences to which we may cling, evaporate like the unimportant wisps of selfishness they really are.  Song preferences, perceived slightings, unwelcomed change or tedious repetition, will all be somehow so insignificant.  In my sanctified imagination I imagine the refreshing of just raising our voices together to sing, our hands lifted to praise, heads bowed to pray, and hearts and souls opened for hearing God’s voice to lead us into deeper, fuller relationship…this is what will come for God’s people.  Because this is what God always does for grateful, humble people.  And I cannot think of a time when I have been more grateful, or humbled, by the realization that I may have been taking corporate worship for granted…and I sense that I can’t possibly be the only one who feels this way.

Let’s Pray Together:

Father, your pilgrim children, exiled from the buildings and routines we sometimes worship, are longing to go home.  We know you do all things well, and in your time.  As we wait on your hand to guide, may we wait with our sandals on, staff in hand, ready for your direction.

For You Today

Can you say “pilgrim”?  A pilgrim isn’t home; he’s wandering – she’s wondering, we’re walking.  It’s always a movement.  The only real concern we should have is the direction in which we’re moving – towards God…or the other way.

You chew on that as you hit the Rocky Road today.  Have a blessed day!

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Title Image:  Pixabay.com  Unless noted, Scripture quoted from The New Living Translation©

For other posts on Psalm 126 see World UPSIDE DOWN and Precious Seeds  and When a Warrior Weeps

Worship...From a Distance

Wednesday, April 29, 2020

Then the Lord instructed Moses: “Come up here to me, and bring along Aaron, Nadab, Abihu, and seventy of Israel’s elders.  All of you must worship from a distance.  Only Moses is allowed to come near to the Lord.  The others must not come near, and none of the other people are allowed to climb up the mountain with him.”  Exodus 24:1-2

A few days ago I had to get an X-ray done.  When I entered the facility everyone was wearing masks.  When I walked into the room with the big machine the small talk moment was a hello nod.  The first words from the masked man were:  you’re wearing gloves?  I answered in the affirmative because it’s hard to ignore robin’s egg blue latex on all ten fingers.  I then got a lecture on the medical mistakes I was making, such as cross-contaminating everything my gloves touch, and how, underneath the offending gloves, the unventilated sweating of my hands was providing a perfect storm of bacteria.  It was a monologue that lasted the full 10 minutes it took to look at my insides with the magic machine.  I found myself bristling at this sermonic tsunami of medical expertise coming from a mouth I couldn’t see, probably quite unventilated, and (I surmised) only loosely fact-checked.   My last bristling thought was:  I wonder if he knows how much of a bacteria perfect-storm is brewing in that cave underneath his face mask?

The technician must have sensed my bristling (I’m not a good poker face sort when held captive under 3 tons of equipment, forced to listen to how I’m ruining the universe and Mom’s apple pie with my blue gloves).  He took a little breath-break in the middle of his diatribe to inform me that he was just trying to educate [me].  I have to admit my first words to this man I’d never met surprised even my natural affinity for sarcasm…I replied...I guess all those surgeons are wrong about wearing gloves.  When I left the room there was no goodbye nod.

I suppose most people are registering higher on the Richter Scale of edgy these days.  Even though I’m trying my best to stay calm under my mask, taking deep breaths, not adding to the national debt of angst, it is getting harder.  And, like Aaron and the 70 elders, I’m not happy with having to stay at a safe distance…especially in worship.  I grew up with a prevailing sentence ringing in my ears every Sunday morning as our pastor’s morning prayer always included the phrases that thanked God for this land, where we are still free to gather in worship!  I’m a lot older now, and, hopefully, a little wiser; this land is still a God-given beautiful place.  The free part…not as much.

I never thought I’d actually see the day when we had to close the church doors at the direction of political fiat.  Closing the church doors was always a euphemism for the consequences of God’s people behaving like the world, a fate to be suffered by congregations too afraid or lazy to do the Kingdom work of spreading the Good News.

But, here we are!  We have been social-distanced out of the sanctuary!  Only the proverbial resident church mice abide under the steeples of the houses of worship.  Now our altar is an IPad, or a desktop screen, or (for more contemporary types), a smartphone.  There is no embrace across the pews, handshaking, offering plate-passing, lingering, or holy hush moments.  The hymnals lie collecting dust, along with the Sunday School roll book.  We have kept our distance.  

Now…if that’s the lament, here is the joyous response of praise.  We have been forced from the forms of worship to which we’d become stagnated and unprofitably glued, and launched back into the catacombs, finding dangerous ways to follow the Christ Who still indwells, still calls, and gifts to do His bidding…no matter the cost.

For You Today

There are times for distancing – from sin, from forms of godliness which deny the power of God, and so on…but there is nothing that can ever social distance God’s people from His love.  Let’s dwell on Paul’s words on that promise:

You chew on that as you hit the Rocky Road; have a blessed day! 

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Title Image:  Pixabay.com      Unless noted, Scripture quoted from The New Living Translation©

For another post on Exodus 24 see Covenant