Monday, November 21, 2011

Monday's Meditation: What I Saw at Church

Yesterday at church I saw heaven breaking into earth here and now.
I saw signs and wonders: children in sparkling tennis shoes that flashed multicolored lights as they danced in worship. I saw a four year-old offensive lineman soaking in the Spirit of Christ, unaware of how strong his body will grow or how he will use it to glorify God. I saw the Woodstock generation worshipping next to generations unborn. I saw the unlovely, enraptured by the bridegroom and made beautiful by the sight of of him. They became beautiful in my sight as well. I saw a rage-oholic find peace as he stood in the back of the room. He drank it in--the only peace he knows each week--in the Father's presence. 
I heard voices normally used in the everyday business of life blended together in the unison of praise. Voices which sang without words, making new paths of melody, expressing what their hearts knew but their minds did not. I heard songs so new that no one had ever heard them but the singer herself, followed by the songs of saints dead a hundred years or more. I heard the sound of heaven surge through tongues, lungs, and throats of flesh and blood, like fountains made pure by the very water they released.
I tasted bad coffee. It was somehow made better because it was shared in common. I savored the sacred elements of donuts and fruit, muffins and juice, sanctified by people receiving the sacrament of family. I tasted and saw that the Lord is good.
I caught the fragrance of the unwashed who had been embraced by the Rose of Sharon. I discovered that his aroma overpowers theirs: the aroma of life to those who are being saved, and the stench of death nowhere in the place.
I heard the Holy Spirit whisper secrets to the pastor, who announced them to the church. I watched as the people miraculously flashed the inspired words around the world even before the sermon had ended. I saw sojourners who had no home find a place to call home, if only for an hour.
I saw in the church the fulness of him who fills every thing in every way. I discovered the pillar and support of the truth as they put the wisdom of God on display--not for themselves, but for the powers and principalities in heavenly places--unaware they were being watched.
Yesterday at church I touched all these things and more. What did you see?

8 comments:

  1. Yeah! His robe fills the whole place, and the door posts rattle!

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  2. It was a pretty good day.

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  3. Ray. I think I need to read this every day. This is a psalm of praise and thanksgiving. This is a song of redemption in flesh. I ran a half marathon on Sunday. If I had used Jesus' eyes, I would have seen the reasons these other rans, the pain, the hurt, the joy, the pride, the broken down mess of their lives. At the end, as I ran through the finisher's chute, I communed in physical relief. Running to me is worship (not the only worship, mind you). This is just a beautiful picture.

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  4. I can see it. Running *is* worship. In fact, if we could each learn this secret, "Whether, then, you eat or drink or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God" I believe all of life could sing His song.

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  5. I love this paragraph, and the fact that you leapt into it without transition or warning:

    "I tasted bad coffee. It was somehow made better because it was shared in common. I savored the sacred elements of donuts and fruit, muffins and juice, sanctified by people receiving the sacrament of family. I tasted and saw that the Lord is good."

    Thank you for tasting and seeing—and sharing—that the Lord is good.

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  6. My pleasure, Kristin. I've discover the sacraments in the most common places--haven't you?

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