Joined Together
Stories
Lectionary Tales For The Pulpit
Series II Cycle B
I was nervous. I was asked just a few hours ago to fill in at the nursing home and lead worship. I had never been there, but I lead worship at several other retirement and nursing homes. I wanted to do well.
I prayed as I hung up the phone. Yes, I would be happy to do it. Or maybe I should have been more honest and said I would do it and be happy when it was over. I went over the service and on to other things.
The home was beautifully decorated, the lobby resembling an elegant hotel lobby. Fresh flowers as well as silk arrangements made for a cozy atmosphere. Several people were clustered in groups throughout the lobby, some playing cards, others visiting with each other.
I found my way to a small chapel with new furnishings. The piano was ebony, the chairs matched the plush carpeting, and the hymnbooks had recently been purchased as a gift. The altar was stark, naked, and white, as if it were out of place in its attractive surroundings.
I laid out the elements, rehearsed my reflection, and prayed for calm. A peace came over me as I asked the Holy Spirit's presence in this special place. I stood up and opened the door.
They came in little groups. Fifty men and women came walking, strolling behind a walker, or wheeled in their chairs. They were pleasant and the worship started. I felt very comfortable.
In the middle of my reflection, I noticed one man asleep while several others looked interested. I appreciated both. We sang another song and I spoke the words of instruction. "As often as we eat of this bread and drink from this cup, we proclaim the Lord's death until he comes."
One by one, I went to where they were sitting and gave them the wafer that was dipped in the wine. "This is the body of Christ, broken and given for you. This is the blood of Christ, shed for you." One by one, they opened their mouths and let me put the wafers on their tongues. One by one, each a child of God, each a precious part of the kingdom of God.
It was a holy moment. A sacred truth had been revealed to me in that beautiful, small chapel in the nursing home. One by one, as frail or strong, as young or old, through communion, we are joined together. We left the service filled with hope, filled with the power of Christ's endless love. Filled with the power of his endless life.
I prayed as I hung up the phone. Yes, I would be happy to do it. Or maybe I should have been more honest and said I would do it and be happy when it was over. I went over the service and on to other things.
The home was beautifully decorated, the lobby resembling an elegant hotel lobby. Fresh flowers as well as silk arrangements made for a cozy atmosphere. Several people were clustered in groups throughout the lobby, some playing cards, others visiting with each other.
I found my way to a small chapel with new furnishings. The piano was ebony, the chairs matched the plush carpeting, and the hymnbooks had recently been purchased as a gift. The altar was stark, naked, and white, as if it were out of place in its attractive surroundings.
I laid out the elements, rehearsed my reflection, and prayed for calm. A peace came over me as I asked the Holy Spirit's presence in this special place. I stood up and opened the door.
They came in little groups. Fifty men and women came walking, strolling behind a walker, or wheeled in their chairs. They were pleasant and the worship started. I felt very comfortable.
In the middle of my reflection, I noticed one man asleep while several others looked interested. I appreciated both. We sang another song and I spoke the words of instruction. "As often as we eat of this bread and drink from this cup, we proclaim the Lord's death until he comes."
One by one, I went to where they were sitting and gave them the wafer that was dipped in the wine. "This is the body of Christ, broken and given for you. This is the blood of Christ, shed for you." One by one, they opened their mouths and let me put the wafers on their tongues. One by one, each a child of God, each a precious part of the kingdom of God.
It was a holy moment. A sacred truth had been revealed to me in that beautiful, small chapel in the nursing home. One by one, as frail or strong, as young or old, through communion, we are joined together. We left the service filled with hope, filled with the power of Christ's endless love. Filled with the power of his endless life.
