I look out and a beautiful woman who has been sitting alone for five years is now sitting in a different section, laughing knowingly with a group of friends. A grandmother on the third row is reaching over the edge of the wooden pew to display her shiny amethyst ring to a curly haired baby girl arching her back in her Dad’s arms. An elder in a hat extends her hand to support another elder on the stairs on the way to the communion table. And then I close my eyes. Twenty robed in blue echo heaven’s bliss, though their own individual lives are fractured and bruised from the week’s events.
The drama unfolds week after week, not only during the passing of the peace or after the benediction as folks break back into conversation but even during the worship service, where small tender acts of graceful love seem to weave the people together into a church. A few weeks ago in staff meeting, Mike led us in a conversation about worship. What is it really? Why do we gather? One suggestion was that “worship promotes growing closer to those gathered.” We wondered aloud if this happens as we sit in rows facing forward. And then we all shared stories about how we have witnessed these subtle yet profound gestures indicate something holy that is far beyond anything written in the worship bulletin.
In his book, Way of Love, Norman Wirzba writes, “A community is not simply a collection of individuals, but a membership of creatures woven together by the daily work of love.” One of the things I love about Easter is that on that Sunday, the whole community comes together to celebrate that we are a membership, not just a collection. It’s much like getting the whole family together on any holiday. Somehow it just feels complete to have all of us at the table. And to know that we are woven together by the daily work of love.
See you Sunday.
-Carla
