The silence of the sanctuary.....
I remember many years ago in my home congregation one evening arriving before anyone else for a meeting. Walking through the doors into a darkened sanctuary with the barest of lights flickering before me as I stood in the middle of the aisle. My spirit seemed rooted to the weary carpet, familiar with steps that danced, traveled, journeyed to the place where Christ opens His arms and welcomes us to the Beloved Community, nourishing our souls so that we are able to throw open the doors, not only stepping out on faith but embracing those strangers whose songs are removed and whose voices fall silent.
And yet, being alone in the sanctuary frightened me and I hurriedly ran and turned on every last night I could possible find, thankful for the voices of others raised in fellowship coming through the worn wooden doors.
Fast forward to Lent, 2012. Once more I found myself alone in a different place, a different church as I awaited my husband and children to come and pick me up. Standing before the closed wooden and clear glass doors of my MIC congregation, the foreboding, flickering flames gestured as witnesses to the somber journey we know wearily travel. The winds, this night seemed to seep into every crack as if to howl and bang against my very being expecting me to fear.
Above the doors leading into the sanctuary: C+20+M+12+B
Even in the darkness when the unfamiliar tugs at our fears-the cross, the table stand as reminders of the bareness of our faith, simple and exposed. In the dying light of a summer day I have wanted to wander in the upper prairie at my camp and weep being in the presence of the Creator,listening for His Voice. In this moment, I wanted to stand in the presence of the Creator illuminated by candles...and listen to His Voice.
Lape Bondye, God's Peace.