Thursday, June 21, 2007

Dearest God,

I entered the holy space alone. Walking down the center aisle, I took off my shoes and knelt on the steps. Tears formed and fell upon my face. Pausing, I moved up the steps and stopped in front of the altar, the new altar that my husband and I had purchased for the church. “Do this in remembrance of me,” inscribed on the front, I began to sing, “We are standing on holy ground. And I know that there are angels all around. Let us praise Jesus now. We are standing in his presence on holy ground.” As I ran my finger across the letters of the words Jesus said to his disciples, tears continued to fall. I knew the angels, men and women, who had disappeared from the scene, caught by death, retrieved by God.

I walked around the altar, touching the symbols carved in the wood. Grapes. Wheat. The body and blood of Jesus. I ran my hand across the top, wanting to take in its beauty, desiring to leave a blessing behind.

As the tears trickled in the presence of angels and saints, I prayed. “Oh Lord, make this altar a blessing to you. Let every shared moment of Holy Communion bring glory to your name. Let baptisms and confirmations be moments where your name is lifted in hallowedness.”

The altar had just arrived the day before. Pastor Todd had called to let me know it had been put in its rightful place, center stage beneath the cross. I had asked if I could come over and spend a few minutes with it in prayer before its usage. He agreed.

My husband spent 18 years serving this church, hard years convincing the church to move, the votes, 10 years trying to sell the building, false leads and starts, some people leaving when it didn’t sell, hard years. I spent 10 of those years with him. I loved Calvary, still do. But then I love every church I serve and feel blessed, privileged to serve in ministry with the people.

Harold’s heart is still here. His long years of service, connected to these people, some of whom were born while he was here, grew up and went to college. He remembers. He had asked me if it was okay to buy a new altar for the new church. And of course I agreed.

And now I stood alone with it in the sanctuary. I prayed, remembering myself, then I turned, walked down the steps, slipped on my shoes, and left.

Holy God,
one moment in your presence
is like no moment anywhere else.
There is nowhere else
I want to be.
To linger by your altar,
to remember your grace
to savor your compassionate mercy
is gift to me.
May you, O God,
find joy and delight
in the new altar.
May your people
draw near to you
in the years ahead.
I give great thanks
and offer you
my love.

Always, Andrea