March 19, 2009

On the Journey

                            A Shared Sorrow . . . A Testing of Faith

              As I await more signs of the coming spring, I am aware of the stress that has accompanied this long season of displacement. Spring promises the end of the long night of winter. Despair gradually departs as the trees bud and leaves emerge almost overnight.  Our hope rises as the flowers break the earth and blossom. In the spring of 1978, I waited for the birth of spring following a long night of the soul. Today, I yearn for the joy and rebirth of spring bringing, I hope, a reprieve from this long night of displacement.

              As individuals, we have all experienced times of loss, grief, and sorrow. Grief and sorrow accompany any loss we experience—the loss of someone we love, the loss of a dream, the loss of employment, the loss of a treasured place. When we experience our loss, our journey through grief and sorrow is as unique as our own personalities. Yet, there are elements of this journey that we all experience in our own unique way. The stages of grief include shock, denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and finally acceptance. As we deal with our loss, we often discover coping devices—a sense of numbness, hyperactivity, humor, a search for new meaning in life. There are no short cuts on this journey through grief and sorrow.

              The sanctuary fire on December 4th is a loss we all experienced together. Not a single one of us has been able to escape the sorrow and grief that accompanies the loss of a place so vital to us all. In the sanctuary, we worshipped God together. With our voices blending as one, we sang praises to God. Bowing our heads, we poured out our hearts to God in prayer. We celebrated the holy seasons of the church year. New believers slipped below the baptismal waters and rose to new life in Christ. In our hands, we received the bread and cup remembering with thanksgiving our Lord’s sacrifice of himself for us.  Holding tightly to one another, we wept in the presence of God. We gathered before God in the sanctuary to dedicate our children and to grieve the saints among us who died. More than the beauty of the sanctuary, we lost the place where God met us with great faithfulness week after week.

              Each one of us has responded to this loss differently. In our journey through grief and loss, we find ourselves at different places. There are those of us who still feel the shock and numbness. Others of us responded by increasing our activity hoping to hold things together. We have been angry about the whole situation, and we prayed to God to hold us all together. This is a corporate experience of grief. We have all been touched. When we are together, our bruises and wounds are still evident.

              Despite all we have known in this season of grief and displacement, our hopes will rise as surely as spring arrives. In the new light, we will recognize God’s presence, strength, and wisdom that are sustaining us in the midst of this loss and leading us to acceptance. Together we will make new commitments to Christ and the kingdom, for we desire most of all for Immanuel to be a vibrant and viable place where people experience the saving, redeeming, and restoring power of God.

              As spring arrives with the hope of resurrection, it is important for us to turn now to the care of our congregation as the body of Christ. We must become intentional. On Sunday mornings, it is most difficult for us to see everyone and to know who is present and who may be missing. Our greeting time must become a time of true hospitality where we welcome and embrace friends in Christ we have known a long time and strangers who Christ has led to be with us.

              In this time of rising hope, we must remember that on Sunday mornings the Fellowship Hall becomes our sanctuary—the place where we worship God in Spirit and in Truth. Our togetherness is significant, but our need to be together must not be more important than our desire to meet God together in worship. On the coming Sundays, let us begin to prepare our hearts for worship the moment the prelude begins. Let’s help make this sanctuary a place of beauty and awe. We have our challenges, but we are gifted and creative people.

              This season of displacement is a time of testing for our congregation. We are being tested individually and corporately. It has become everyone’s responsibility to be a priest and a shepherd. This has always been true, but now, we each must accept our high calling before Christ. The church called Immanuel, like every other church of whatever tradition of the faith, is no stronger or viable than the individual members who compose it. Let us grow in this time of testing. Let us accept new responsibilities. Let us remind ourselves that we are truly about loving and serving God, and God will supply our needs, restore our strength, and inspire new visions of mission and ministry.

              During this time, we may share many of the thoughts and feelings of the Hebrew people as they wandered through the wilderness. In this time of testing, let us remember that our God is leading us to the promised land. We may have difficulty imaging a new tomorrow, but God is bringing it to life. Therefore, let us pray to be faithful to our Lord in all the seasons of life. By God’s grace, may the coming spring renew our hope. New life rises from death. Thanks be to God.jamie