There was this tradition for us pastors and deacons of ELCA congregations in the Northeastern Ohio Synod (and most synods throughout our wider church have a similar practice): that on the Tuesday of Holy Week, we would gather at Trinity Lutheran Church in Kent for a worship, including a time for the renewal of our ordination vows; the vows we took before our family and friends, (future) colleagues, the church, not to mention the Divine as we committed ourselves as Ministers of Word and Sacrament (pastors) or Ministers of Word and Service (deacons). It was offered amidst what is often the busiest time of year for such faith leaders, partly to give a time and space for those who may not always be able to fully worship while also needing to lead the worships. It was to hopefully allow pastors and deacons to pause and take all the holiness in for themselves, a bit.
Granted, we just always did it this way (granted, always is usually a bit of stretch when used, but still…from our center-of-the-universe perspective, we just “always” did it this way), but then the schedules got even busier. The attendance for a worship on the Tuesday of Holy Week, with some decent driving distances for most, began to dwindle, over recent years. Yes, there was something special for the way it was “always” done. It was meaning-filled only days away from a cross and resurrection celebration. It was awe-inspiring to be in the space with other church leaders, sometimes struggling to get it by those days, as if we were all in it together, all sustained by the same Christ who would carry us to Calvary and the tomb, yet again, and do so in a grace-filled love in-face-of-death manner. It even stirred the soul with not as many as there used to be in previous Holy Weeks.
But then, we dared wondered if a different time, could still bring meaning and awe and stir the soul: if a new beginning could so drastically re-alter a perspective to create a new sense of it “always” being this (new) way, because it somehow managed to hit the same, but different, spot in our Christ-dwelling heart…or something like that. So, we tried it: yesterday, in fact. November 10, by the way, is also the day Martin Luther was born, oddly enough: the one who stirred some “always did it this way” mindsets, in a manner of speaking, and unleashed a spiritual and church operation ripple effect we’re still navigating over half a millennia later.
The hymn of the day we sang yesterday may have encapsulated the whole experience. Yes, it’s one of those new ones from our All Creation Sings hymnal supplement that we’ve started to dig into at Divinity, but haven’t gotten too far into its vast depth of music. It’s entitled “To Christ Belong, In Christ Behold.” It’s one of those that might take some worship planning guts for it to be placed in front of a congregation on a Saturday evening or Sunday morning. The verses and the phrasing are a bit extended, the vocal range of the notes might be considered a stretch. But once it settled in, once this new song started to truly grab hold in the Christ-dwelling heart, came the third and final verse:
3 Rejoicing in God's promise strong,
our treasure and our song,
in faith we cling, and gladly sing:
to Christ we now belong.
In Christ abide, in Christ behold
the world beloved and whole.
In love remain, by love proclaim
God's wonders still untold,
God's wonders still untold.
In one form or another over the church’s complicated and wonderful history, including our fair share of times when we needed to remember our treasure not being in churchly anything, but in the Christ to whom we all belong, who abides in us through thick and thin, not to mention the one who hopefully can captivate us so much in the midst of beholding him that he still convinces us to see a world that is beloved by the Divine; through all of that, in one form or another, we’ve “always” attempted to proclaim God’s strongest promise for us all. And yet, even though we’ve “always” been doing it for a couple thousand years or so, it seems unfathomable to consider there are “God’s wonders still untold.” As if, the vows that were conveyed for us at our baptism, and some of us affirmed for ourselves on a Confirmation Sunday (after a fair share of Martin Luther-learning, to be sure); as if those vows are meant to last throughout our lives…with the help of God, indeed. Amen (so let it be)!
In Christ,
Pastor Brad