Where Two Or More Are Gathered...

We are promised to be in God's presence, if gathered in His name (Matt 18:20). Quite the promise, I think. But He keeps it.

On Easter Sunday, the day when bunnies lay chocolate eggs (or eggs with cash covered in plastic, or just hardboiled-hardly-colored eggs), Christians celebrate the biggest deal of all- the day that Jesus rose again! This Sunday marked an odd Easter for me, to be honest. We were out of town, my parents and I don't go to the same church anymore on any given Sunday, and we didn't know where to go. We ended up driving around and settled on this tiny, old church with about 50 cars parked outside. We walked in... 15 minutes late. Ugh.

They had the children doing a special program. Every kid (loud, tone-deaf, or pre-pubescent) had a mic. This struck me as what they're going for with the whole "No Child Left Behind" campaign, only it was more like "Every Child Heard Outside". Don't get me wrong; the kids were cute, and the songs were fun. But they didn't all need blaring mics... at the highest-possible, most cringe-inflicting volume.

When they were dismissed (military-style) the adult choir came up. 4 ladies. Almost 300 years of age, if you added them up. One lady talked about brown cows and green grass making white milk. I was lost. Then she cried. And talked about red and black making us white as snow. I promise, I spent everything I had trying to understand. The mics stayed hot. Then the pastor joined the choir, sang words that went with another song... and somehow we landed in the sermon. I missed when that happened. The service reminded me of some I have seen in remote towns in other countries. It was just so very different from what I'm used to. I'm sure you've experienced something like this. Well, at the end of the service, a cute little old lady testified, crying, about how Jesus told her to share with all of us how wonderful this sacrifice was, and how we have been saved miraculously, and how he endured such pain on the cross. All very true, and moving. She cried more, and then said, "Eternity is looong. Hell is hottt. Repent! NOW... Repent..." I think you get the idea. It went on for a couple minutes. There were a million awkward glances at family members. Fascinating gazes at shoe laces that were of no interest until now. I cringed a little for any non-Christians in the room. After, we hopped in our car and headed back to the Lake house. My dad said, "I'm just glad we were together." My mom laughed and said that it was an interesting Easter. I suggested that church didn't have to end there, at least not like that. I figured that all the way home we could just pray, sing hymns and testify. So we did. It was beautiful. My grandmother (who often lacks two brain cells to knock together) led most of the hymns, since much of her long-term memory is just fine. And we ended it on Amazing Grace and a sweet Easter prayer of repentance, joy, and thanks.

I came home to read what is quite possibly the most moving blog I've ever read. I realized, more clearly than ever before, that church happens anywhere, with any people, at any time.

It's amazing that I learned this on Easter- the whole reason why we can worship so freely and intimately...

From Ragamuffin Soul, a blogging worship leader in Atlanta:

I’m in verse 2 and I look to my left and am hit like a blind side pick and roll.

Swaying on the front row was a guy I later learned was named Matt.

Standing in front of him was another guy named Jefferson.

It was a moment that stands out above all else in my 11 years of leading worship.

You see Matt and Jefferson were worshipping God, together.

Literally.

Jefferson has severe cerebral palsy.

He has little, if any control over his body.

Matt was standing behind Jefferson.

Holding Jefferson.

20 minutes.

Dancing with Jefferson and singing at the top of his lungs.

Jefferson was singing too.

I think could hear him.

And it was the most beautiful song I have ever heard.