From the Back of the Room: An Observation

From the back of the room, my eyes fill with tears. Every Sunday, without fail. 

Years ago, I cried for the shame of my captive body. I cried for the crashing blood sugars and the fearful unknown, forcing the need to escape quickly and quietly. Forcing the seat at the back of the room.

Now from my quiet spot in the back, I cry for joy, grateful for the best seat in the house. Because only there can I see what I do. 

From the back of the room, I see friends sharing stories, laughing, embracing. I see the bonds of family forming, holy ties between those married with children and those single, between those with grown grandchildren and those with babes snuggled to chest.

From the back of the room, I see dads hold small children, moms rub the shoulders of teens. I see parents provide instruction and discipline. I see small children turn in their seats, seeking the eye of those behind them. I see them rewarded with peek-a-boo from those who sit alone and smiling. 

From the back of the room, I notice that here in this ordinary, holy place we sit stiller and quieter and nearer than at any other time. I notice the arms around each other, the hands clasped together, the embrace of grandmas rocking grandkids to sleep. 

And I notice generations squeezed in the same pew, announcing to the church and the world and the great cloud of witnesses that what God formed in the beginning - the man and his wife and all their fruitfulness - continues now, and always will. 

I notice the sermons walked out in the feet on the ground and the knees on the floor. 

From the back of the room, my eyes fill with tears because this routine, this simple observance of the Lord’s day together, speaks a word against all the hopeless, lonely nihilism of our day. 

And from the back of the room, I remember how the world is transformed in the coming together and even the celebration as we depart:  

“Let us go forth into the world rejoicing in the power of the Spirit.” 

Let us take with us what we’ve found in this place. Let us remember that we are in Him and in this, all together. 

Amen.