Sunday Pondering

Why I left church asking the question, I do not know.  There was nothing wrong with the service of worship.  Actually, it was uplifting and inspiring in many ways.  When I left, I was glad that I had been present.  Oh, the question?  "Why do I go to church?"  I could just say what is true, "My mother said go" and in those days, no other reason was necessary than the fact that she said to do it.  Or, I could say it is just a habit of mine that has become well ingrained over the last fifty years of life out from under my mother's watchful eye.  As I carried the question around with me through the day, a number of thoughts stopped in my mind for review.  

A few of those thoughts have stuck.  One is that to attend church is to walk on ground which I have come to know as home. It is a place where I have deep roots.  As I become immersed in the experience of worship with others, I sense a belonging to a community.  It is a community of people who share a common heritage, but it is also an unique community in that it is a spiritual community centered on Jesus and given life through the power of the Holy Spirit.  In a mysterious way it is not just a community of those of us who are here, but also one shared with those who are there in the invisible heavenly realm.  If I am not present when the church gathers, it is not diminished; instead, I am the one who is diminished.  

One thing which I think is deeply needed in the lives of those who are caught up in the temporal nature of culture is a place where there is mystery.  It is a good thing to sit still in a place where we are made aware that there are things we do not know, things we cannot understand, and thoughts we never thought to think.  Maybe it was my mother which got me to going to worship each Sunday, but being midst the holy mystery is what keeps taking me back.