A touch of heaven - pt 3, the churchy bit

Part 1
Part 2

So what does worship in a community of the vulnerable look like?

Well the pipe organ was still there - with an impressive musician enjoying it as we gathered and waited for 12.30. The seats filled up until the old balcony was in use too. Some were from a group visiting the project as part of a mission week, but they could be spotted by the uniform teeshirts. Most would have been local, some had been waiting on tables earlier, some eating at them.

There was no reverent silence before the service began (or at any time within it come to that). The organist came out to teach us the opening hymn which was a spiritual, and then it was greetings and notices - anyone could raise a hand to add one. Two solos followed - and if you are not sure about clapping contributions in worship, how about a standing ovation?

Prayers of the people were next - and this including a novel response, around the pews were homemade shakers which we were invited to make noise with in agreement with a prayer offered.  A noisy Amen to the prayers offered by various people (raise your hand and when acknowledged you speak up).  Giving the offering was a walk to the front to place in the bowl - though they missed out on the African tradition of dancing it up that I remember from Zambia.


The Bible reading was Matt 14 - Jesus walking on the water and Peter getting out of the boat, it was printed on the service sheet and read dramatically with voices around the room.  Then for the first time since the welcome the Pastor was on.  Sermon time, but this was a conversation, collecting in thoughts from the congregation.  This was when people spoke of what happened on the way to the jail and another about how rich he felt as someone with Jesus even if he stayed in a tent.

But this was not a dumbed down sermon - the pastor went on to quote Bonhoeffer - and the challenge that sinking is not a lack of faith, staying in the boat and not getting wet is. Faith is getting wet. Also that they had been in a storm and thought away from Jesus but he was closer than they realised.

The new part-time minister lead the communion prayer, and we lined up to take the bread and juice in the way that United Methodists do here - tear your own bread and intinct.  The organist played classic hymn tunes and people chattered - this could have felt very wrong and irreverent and somewhere else probably would, but it felt a natural part of the worship here.

We closed singing along to a recorded song - not a churchy one but not one I recognised from anywhere else either, but then that would cover a lot of popular, well known songs!

tSo a traditional order for UMC worship, bit different for prayers and sermon - but not in ways that haven't been tried in Wesley Church, Somewhere St.   The sense of a foretaste of heaven is not from some tweak to the pattern of worship, it came from the people who took part - those planned to share, those who brought their thoughts and prayers.  It came from being a place where community happened, where those who are so often relegated to the recipients of Christian charity were those giving, and teaching.   And yes I know that I am guilty of labelling in this description even though I am trying to explain an hour where it didn't seem to exist - the limits of trying to describe an indescribable sense of God's presence in that place and time.