Sunday, June 17, 2007

Dear God,

There is a tiny church with 40 worshippers who are taking on the town. Living in a "conservative and fundamentalist" region, they are fighters for peace and justice.

I continue to be stunned, amazed at the wonder of the church making a witness all over America. We are involved in every kind of work. Our ministry is to every person, not just to some. We rally around the lost, give them place, offer them amazing grace and hope, then celebrate. Doing just as Jesus challenged us to do.

Reading about the work of the church has bolstered my faith in the church. Oh, not that I didn't have faith before. I do, I did, I will. But sometimes the church narrows in importance and relevancy. Sometimes all we can see is the political infighting; we fail to see the whole picture. We observe our smallness, without realizing how big we really are in terms of the lives we touch. We are a holy people (acting a little, or a lot unholy at times with our attitudes) doing a holy work. We can't ever forget that.

When an organization or institution invests in a church, there is a hope, an anticipation, expectation that something good, positive, amazing will take place. Why else would they offer grants and/or support? Seems reasonable to expect.

I think of my own beloved church (it really doesn't belong to me, I just get to call it that as an intimate way of connecting). I think of us, our way of being, our joy, our ministry, our work, our single hope and our dreams. We stand beside Jesus, your son and we take our cues from him. I see that so well when we greet one another on Sundays. Those moments of fellowship are a sign of who we are and what we are about. Smiles form when I ask people to greet one another. Arms go out, hands shake. And Christ walks from pew to pew welcoming all.

Sunday morning worship is an exercise in faith. We exercise our faith when we gather, when we give ourselves to worship, when we bring our children for a faith exercise, when we offer one another signs of peace, when we sing songs of faith, when we whisper our prayers, when we become one as together we say, "Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed..."

My faith is growing daily, as I write, as I worship, as I preach and serve, as I love. My faith is miniscule when my expectations are low, like thinking the reading of applications would be a singularly thoughtful, methodical process of selection. Not so, my heart strings are being strummed, my emotions are being pricked, my faith challenged, my appreciation deepened. Quite yet, another story of God.

Fabulous God,
awe strikes me
as I read.
Oh, not every time,
but much of the time.
I see your fingerprints
on the pages,
a sign of your presence.
Holy are you
and worthy of praise.
My grateful heart
sings out your praise.
I remain in your service
grace and joy filled.

Love, Andrea