Image: Courtesy, Wikipedia
What does God see when He sees us worshipping?
And He Was There
- Worshipping when I was younger – mid last century
There was a custom and tradition
that, years ago, meant
meeting twice
on the Sunday.
Morning AND evening –
starting the day and closing the day
with God.
Best suits,
hats and dresses:
“No corduroy son!
Would you meet the queen in that!”
My father barked.
The worship,
like the pews, was stern and formal.
Faces serious and
attention strict, as eyes
focussed forward.
Fidgeting children were pinched,
prodded and glared into conformity.
And God was there
in the droning, reverie inducing words,
everlasting musty organ hymns,
peppermints,
and Eau de Cologned hankies.
And He was there
when the bread was broken
and the wine sipped
during the quarterly
communion:
when I was left behind
for a moment’s freedom.
And He was there
As I counted the
Organ pipes,
Bannister rails
And made mind pictures
With the patterns of the wooden ceiling.
And later,
He was still there
when I stumblingly
declared my youthful faith.
And despite my fear induced amnesia,
He was there
when I declared my love for my bride.
And He was there when our children
received His promises
in baptism.
Yes,
He was there.
Travels from Ur 
Funny how my recollections have s similar tone to this although stemming from a different church.
Is there a common thread of a baby boomer trying to reconcile the past with the present and being aware of God’s omnipresence? I appreciate you trying to put your childhood experiences into perspective. So many Christians would rather reject or belittle those experiences rather than incorporate them as a building block to a mature faith.
Hi Mick, I have pondering your words considering the different backgrounds we come from. It is interesting that for children our experiences are are largely the same even if the adults had widely different agendas at the time. I agree that they are all part of the building process but considering the loss of people, particularly the young, in churches today it must be time to be more intentional with our children and grandchildren.
P.S. I told one of my senior classes the other day the story of the day that I decided that I was God and that you and the rest were mere figments of my imagination. They fell about laughing and added that I hadn’t changed much. I was offended.