Last night I donned my alb for church for the first time in six months. ... And it felt so good!
I have to admit that I'm generally not one that gets excited about the trappings of our Lutheran tradition, but slipping that robe over my head and pulling on my pectoral cross, I felt a surge of energy I haven't at church in quite some time.
The occasion for the the festive attire was that this week should have been our church's "Rally Week," the week that we return to regularly scheduled Sunday services, the week that our Sunday School comes back, and that confirmation and adult small group studies all start up after a deserved summer rest period.
Rally Sunday is generally one big party, in which we install our teachers, celebrate the fellowship of a full church once again, and we look toward the future of what the church year will be.
But, of course, none of that is happening this year. Last night, we held our "live" service at the Sanctuary, with only a handful of Digital Service Team members on hand, just as it has been for six months. But there will be no joyous Sunday return this coming weekend. No little ones running around in their new Sunday best. No big grins on the adult faces of people who missed seeing their neighbors all summer. No church bells pealing to announce our celebration to the entire community. ... No long line of folks anxious to take their turn to come to the altar for their first communion in a while.
This year we will get none of that.
But, we did have communion last night for the first time in six months, and that was the occasion for which I pulled on my alb. It was unlike any communion that I've ever served, or that our church has ever participated in, but it was one step back toward feeling something of normalcy.
So we cut service by about 15 minutes, performed the Words of Institution during our live broadcast, and then the church council president and I met with parishioners outside the church in their cars. We stood on our corner that leads to our front door, and while the council president handed out "to-go" cups of communion wine and wafers, I blessed each car's occupants.
What a thrilling way to cap a night in which our church took our first steps toward figuring out what our new normal is. While we've been hosting our live services online since mid-March, and we plan to do so through at least October, this was the first time that we hosted something that brought people together. Ultimately, there were only a handful of people who came to participate in the after-church communion, but it did my pastor's heart a whole world of good to see the smiling faces of a half dozen parishioners.
Most exciting for me was that the last woman in line waiting for communion was a brand new face, someone I'd never seen at our church before, and whom even our council president didn't know. After taking communion, she said to me, "You don't know me. I've never been here before, but I want you to know that I listen to your service every week on Facebook. Sometimes, I even plug it into my car so that I can listen to your service on my commute. Thank you for putting your services online."
I thanked her, and after she drove off, I was gobsmacked by how the Holy Spirit was at work on this night that was bittersweet. ... Sure, it wasn't the "Rally Week" that we normally have, but it was a special night nonetheless. And it will be one that will remain as a highlight of my pastoring years.
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