I recently had the privilege of worshiping with my parents in the congregational setting that nurtured me from infancy through adulthood. It was pure time travel, via a Wednesday night Lenten service. The sanctuary has not changed much in 60 years, so I could sink myself into a time when worship was still a welcome mystery to me. Way back then, if I would have had the vocaBulary, I would have classified worship as being either routine, enigmatic, or holy. Lenten services were and are holy. It has to do with the evening aura that surrounds, that sinking into dusk as we sink into meditation, the lack of sounds as cars and birds alike settle in for the night, and the quietness of the worshippers, as they anticipate something different from the performance-based worship of Sunday morning. It has to do with the mystery of Jesus’ journey toward the cross, so deliberate, so human and un-human at the same zithromax iv in children time.
Surprisingly, this experience of time travel was neither sentimental nor emotional. It was simply recognition that communities worship together in ways that keep firm the foundation of our faith. Speaking of foundation, on the way home from the church, I noticed an old brick farmhouse, beautiful, but beyond repair, not because of the bricks, but because of the mortar. Mortar and bricks and foundations…what is the mortar of our faith? We say a church is not a building. The word buzzing in my ear these days (remember “scenario,” “paradigm” from the 90’s) is “relational.” If we are all bricks, then the mortar is relationships.
Relationships are connections, not only with people, but with spaces, with experiences, and for us, with scripture. All these things mixed together, keep us the church.
My prayer for you that you experience your church relationships as holy moments.
Dianne Prichard, Lay Education Director