It's true, we spend a lot of our Sunday morning moving between the Hymnal and the Prayer Book. Each line has been carefully crafted to reflect beautiful poetry and religious sentiment. We know when to sit down, stand up, and kneel without having to be told. Everything about the service has a rhythm and method. It's fairly predictable. But sometimes in a world that is filled with chaos and crisis, a predictable rhythm is welcomed.
And while that rhythm provides us comfort and an identity, it doesn't leave a whole lot of room for the Spirit. There isn't much space for that rushing wind to come in and excite us. So what do we do?
I've started asking people lately where they have touched/tasted/smelled/heard/seen the Spirit at work here at St. Mark's. I've gotten a variety of answers: music, communion bread, free clothes for kids, the warming shelter, the children, home visits, BBQs...the list goes on. These are the same kinds of things the early church did...feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, taking care of the poor, widowed and orphaned, breaking bread together. And none of it was dependent on a building. Somehow we've lost sight of the idea that the "church" isn't a building, but rather the people of God, and that Sundays we gather to feed and be fed...not for it to be our primary ministry within these walls.
I've been reading a book lately that talks about how to sustain the traditional parish. Here at St. Mark's, I would say we are a "traditional" parish. I don't forsee us having pub-Eucharists or going down to the Columbia River to do baptisms. We are a people in a building that has history and a lot of love within its walls. But how do we not only sustain our presence here in the community, but also, how do we experience the Spirit here? The idea that keeps resonating with me is that if we pray well and do worship well, then that feeds and empowers us to do our mission/outreach work. And when we do those things, that is when we experience the Spirit.
This week I invited the congregation to join me in administering Last Rites to a beloved parishioner who's dying. A group of us gathered around the bed in the living room, prayed, and had communion together. Each person laid hands on him and expressed their love and joy for him to be going home to heaven. As we held hands for the final prayer, we could feel the Spirit with us.
As a result of this and several other experiences lately, I'm starting to ask--how do we pray and how do we worship? Do we do these things in a way that feeds and empowers us, or do we do them by rote? I think these questions require serious attention. They require us to critically examine what we're doing and why we're doing it, and most importantly, do we feel the presence of the Spirit when we do them? Can we honestly sing "There's a sweet sweet Spirit in this place"? I want to say yes, but sometimes I'm honestly not sure that I've left room for the Spirit to get inside. So how can we, as a community, make room for the Spirit and recognize it when it's present? How can we be the church of the Pentecost experience?