Something Greater

A few weeks ago I had an enlightening experience in our Orangewood Fellowship Service. The theme of the service was that when we celebrate the Lord’s Supper it is a foretaste of the great supper in the Kingdom of God where we will be reunited with loved ones who have passed away. Prior to communion, we asked each worshipper to sculpt, out of modeling clay, some representation or symbol of a loved one who has gone on before.

I hated it! In the same way that most people have a public speaking phobia (which, clearly, I do not have), I have an art phobia. I’m not good at it, and I have an irrational fear of people seeing my pitiful efforts. It was not a worshipful time for me – my discomfort got in the way . . . Until we began the celebration of the Lord’s Supper. Suddenly, I looked around and we were seated at table in the Kingdom of God with our dear departed!

I had made a symbol of my grandmother. Emma, who was seated next to me, had made Duke, our dog of 17 years, whom we had to put down last summer. I looked around the table and saw some widows and widowers. I saw some people who had lost a parent in the last few years. Their art wasn’t that great either, but I was pretty sure whom they had made, and what it might mean to them to be seated at that table. My heart soared! My understanding deepened! My soul praised the Lord!

I had a big say in planning that activity and I knew I wouldn’t like it when we planned it. I kind of figured that so much of what we do is heady, intellectual, sermonic. Perhaps we should do something that might reach a different kind of person: The artsy, hearty, hands-on kind. I figured I could deal with a little discomfort if their worship was enriched with something different. That’s what I thought going in. Turns out God could do something greater than my limited expectations.

We have new projection capabilities in the sanctuary. Some of us are greatly moved to worship through it. Some of us really don’t like it. That’s okay. We’re all entitled to have likes and dislikes. We can deal with a little dislike, though, if it helps us to enhance the worship of a different kind of person: Those who are more visual. That may be the best some of us can do: “It doesn’t work for me, but I’m glad we do it for others.” That in itself is a wonderful Christian attitude. We will sit at table in the Kingdom of God with all kinds of people.

And who knows – maybe God can do something greater than our limited expectations.