Worship Moments

I received an email this afternoon containing these words:

It was beautiful, the most moving and meaningful church service ever. I will remember it always. You taught us with a loving touch about the most special day of the year. It transcends all, your elegant message making the call to understand it

God was a deliverer today. Healings and joys and the hopefulness of special requests. He delivered himself through you, as you sat patiently on your front porch, waiting, waiting for him to speak. There is that place of quiet rest to let God speak of what is best for you.

This came after we engaged in “free-form” worship today. It is Pentecost, the birthday of the church. This day, far, far more important than Christmas and of equal importance to Easter, is nearly ignored by most. It comes seven weeks after Easter, almost always at the beginning of vacation time for those of us in the US, so there is often lower attendance on this day, not the packed crowds we expect on Easter and Christmas.

It springs from the Feast of the First Fruits, to take place 50 days after the Passover, in the Jewish calendar. It was a time for all to come and worship, to bring the first fruits of the harvest as a love offering to God, and to rejoice together in feasting, party and praise of God.

So, instead of the usual bulletin, structured order of worship, projection set up to guide us through the morning, we waited on the Spirit. We prayed, we sang, we praised God, we received the offering, and we let the Spirit move.

It was tough on many–I encouraged them to feel their discomfort at not knowing what would happen next, to recognize that this comes from the illusion that our planning means that we can really control the future. We can’t, of course.

The writer of the email above mentioned me sitting patiently on my front porch. A few weeks ago, in a time of deep, deep discouragement, I sat on my front porch one evening and pleaded with God to tell me what to do. I sat there for over an hour, not moving, just in waiting and watchful prayer.

Finally, the words came. “Christy, I want you to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, visit the prisoners, and raise the dead.”

I said, “OK.”

So, on this day of Pentecost, I pray, “Merciful God, thank You for showing the way and for giving the Spirit so that I have the power and courage to follow you where ever You may lead. Above all, on this day, I choose to be obedient to Your leading.”