Holy Moments

Image by Arnie Bragg from Pixabay

Even as a child, I enjoyed going to church. Back then, I didn’t have the words to explain why. I just knew that I felt good being there. By age ten years, I could have said, “The people are nice. I like being in the building. It’s big and … special.” As an adult I describe being at church as experiencing God’s Spirit. Some people say they fuel up for their week on Sunday morning, or “Sunday just isn’t Sunday without church.” When I lead worship, I fly on God’s Spirit. It’s wonderful.

Last Sunday, I filled in at St. Paul’s United Church, Warkworth. It was special. “Coffee time” preceded the service, but some of us also stayed afterwards. We actually talked a little about the content of my sermon. For me, that is always a treat. After most had left, a mother and her teenage daughter entered, obviously strangers. They stared around. Don, one of the church’s solid members, approached them with his customary welcome. His wife and I joined him. The two explained that they were visiting Warkworth. They had before, but never seen the church doors open. They asked to look around. God was still in charge, because I, looking the part in my clergy collar, stepped in with, “Sure.”

I led them down the aisle.  Kate and Steve, St. Paul’s musicians were talking with another couple at the front. I suggested to these visitors, “Maybe Kate and Steve will sing a song for you.”

I don’t know what possessed me to say that. They had shared their gifts. They were tired. Steve had already packed up his guitar. I shouldn’t have expected more from them. It was obvious to me, these were God’s words not  mine. They both smiled. I heard the mother whisper to her daughter, “Maybe I can sing too.”

Steve immediately unpacked his guitar. “What will we sing?”

“How about the last song you two sang for us this morning?”

Steve strummed his guitar once, then turned to Kate, “I have no music.”

She retrieved two copies from the music stand.

“I’ll hold Steve’s,” I offered.

Steve strummed an introduction, and they began. After about three lines, the woman and her daughter cozied up close to Kate to see the music. Another line and I heard this beautiful soprano harmony dance around Kate’s rich contralto. It was magical. Their voices filled the sanctuary. The daughter joined in too, abandoning her embarrassment. God’s Spirit enveloped the seven of us.

Kate described it to me in an email afterwards as a “holy” moment. The song finished, the mother thanked Steve and Kate, and said, “Next time we come to Warkworth, we will come to the church service. Thank you again.” She wiped tears from her eyes. They left.

God’s Spirit amazes me. I’ve certainly had my spiritual gas tank filled for the week. Why do we come to church on Sundays?  Easy. When our hearts are open, God, as Spirit, rises up and brings us joy.

I recommend to all of my readers, “Come join us on Sunday at your local place of worship. It’s fun and lifegiving. Come ready for God’s surprise.”