So strange the behavior of us church folk, and I suspect of most religious folk…
We willingly and, out of what feels for all the world like our own free will, gather regularly in response to the One whom we acknowledge to be greater than any one of us and than all of us together, the One who created all things and who desires the reconciliation and well-being of all things.
We gather to sing together, to pray together, to listen together, to eat together, blending our variety of voices and hopes and hungers and needs into one unholy mix that we believe is, in fact, made holy by our coming together the name of the One.
We gather to hear that our hurts are felt, our worries are known, our anxieties are understood, our isolation is overcome because we dare speak out loud about them in the presence of the One.
We gather to hear scripture and hymns and prayers and liturgies and sermons and the dreaded “announcements” urge us to welcome the stranger, share with the poor, embrace the outsider, seek justice for the oppressed, include the excluded, empty ourselves for the sake of others, and take risks for the One who made and loves us and in whom we trust.
We confess our sins and our mistakes and our errors before the One and everyone else, and know the forgiveness we have received gives us courage to try again, and to do better the next time. And what we are too afraid to share with everyone else, is quietly put before the One who loves us anyway/nonetheless/in-spite-of-it-all, and we are free.
We scatter to try to live our lives as best we can in response to the One, a few of us doing great things, most of us doing little things, some of us still trying to figure it all out, knowing we will find welcome that next time we gather.
So strange…so counter-cultural…so important…so misunderstood…so humbling…it’s a wonder we keep on doing it.
