I’ve decided, among other things, to keep this blog up during the season of Lent. I don’t know that I’ll have something to write every day, but I’ll try.
Last night we had a great Ash Wednesday service. It was significant for me, anyway, because of all that happened in spite of my diligent preparations. Sometimes God works like that. More often than not….
So I arrived at the church more than an hour before the service was to begin. It was pouring rain and I knew we wouldn’t have a crowd, but I wanted to be prepared all the same. I had my supplies, I had my list, I had my bulletin with all my notes to myself. I did some things in the church office and then went into the sanctuary to turn on the heat and the lights. Then I went into the kitchen to prepare Communion.
When I came back into the sanctuary about 15 minutes later, it was already getting warm. Hot, actually. And there was a very odd smell. Kind of like burning chlorine, if you can imagine that. The warmer it got, the stronger the smell. I called Bill and he came up to the church to check things out, but could find no cause for the smell.
Soon a few people arrived. Everyone noticed the smell. I had turned the heat off but it was still strong, and it was starting to bother people (myself included). Five minutes before the service was to begin, we all decided to move it to the fellowship hall.
Everyone pitched in, kids and adults, moving tables and chairs, bringing the bread and the cup, the candle, the cross, and everything else we would need. We joked and talked quietly as we prepared the new space for worship. No one looked at the clock, or worried that we weren’t starting on time. Finally everyone took their seats and we began worship.
Later, I thought to myself that worship really began as we worked together to adapt to the circumstances, moving together, preparing together. Worship is, after all, the “work of the people.”
If those who were present last night look back next year on Ash Wednesday 2011, some will remember the liturgy — the symbolic burning of pieces of paper with our sins written on them. Some will remember receiving the ashes and the words, “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” A few might recall hearing the conversation between God, the prophet Isaiah, and the people of Israel about “the fast that I choose,” or my words of reflection on that passage. Most, if not all of us will remember our work together, moving from a holy space to an improvised one, as servants of God together.
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The remains of our air conditioning unit, 10/28/11.When the police came out to file the report, they told us that the thieves have to turn off the power before they start cutting apart the air conditioner to get at the copper or other materials that they can take to the recycling center and exchange for cash. Occasionally, the police officer told us, they will forget to turn off the power or not do it correctly, and then “Zap!” they fry themselves.
