For the longest time, down on the farm, our family kitchen had this old church pew for sitting around the table. For generations before, part of my dad’s side of the family had gone to this nearby Lutheran church. When it closed down (since the German immigrant farmers weren’t filling the countryside quite as much anymore), all the furnishings were made available for anyone to take. So, one of those pews was moved into our kitchen, just a few feet from the door that would lead to the garage, which was the most often used way of getting into the house.
Over the years, my grandfather would often sit on the end of that pew, closest to the door. It was, perhaps, a matter of physical convenience, since he wasn’t able to get around quite as much as he would like. But it was also the best spot to set up shop for a holiday gathering to make sure you would see everyone who would come in for the family celebration, before they would get lost in the shuffle of so many of us filling the main level of the home. It was his way of ensuring he could check in with everyone, see how their life was going, give ‘em a good joke, and along the way, fill him with joy, and even a tear or two as his heart was overwhelmed with sheer gratitude of the simplicity of being there amidst our own little sea of precious humanity.
I still remember the first Thanksgiving after he died. Some families have a tradition of keeping a certain chair empty for the loved ones who are no longer with them. That wasn’t our plan for that particular holiday, but it just happened that way. No one sat there. It was left empty, perhaps on purpose, perhaps not. We noticed it as the gathering went on. It wasn’t the same, and yes, it was sad. Tears were shed over not having that immediate check-in and joke-telling and joy-emergence. We were thankful for those simple but overwhelming moments of gratitude with him. And then, we remembered our little sea of humanity that continued coming through the door, that continued to spill over through the main level not just of the family farm home, but in our hearts as well. And we were thankful for that, too.
Holidays aren’t always so easy for many for a variety of reasons, and that’s okay. We’re thankful for the beautiful moments of the past that will give us plenty of story material to work with at any kind of gathering for the rest of our life. We’re also thankful for the opportunities to make new beautiful moments in whatever way possible with family, friends, and even complete strangers, whether it be next week, or any other day, for that matter. I’m also thankful that I’ve looked at a church pew rather differently since one was moved into our family kitchen many years ago.
Yes, those precious seats (sometimes, the places we wish we could reserve for our default sitting for every worship, of course) are where we pray and sing and praise God. But it also can be the place where we check-in with each other, share a laugh, and have joy emerge in our heart. It is where gratitude for our siblings in Christ can bring us to near tears of appreciation. They are rather holy spots, in their own way. But the truth is, it can happen in whatever spot in our homes. It can happen anywhere, where such…well, ministry can be done for one another. After all, this God insists on being everywhere, unleashing love through all places, bringing joy to life for all God’s precious children. Thanks be to God, indeed, next Thursday, and forever!
In Christ,
Pastor Brad