Praise the Lord from the earth, you great sea creatures and all ocean depths, lightning and hail, snow and clouds, stormy winds that do his bidding, you mountains and all hills, fruit trees and all cedars, wild animals and all cattle, small creatures and flying birds, kings of the earth and all nations, you princes and all rulers on earth, young men and women, old men and children. Psalm 148:7-12
I wrote last time about the danger of drifting away from regular worship and fellowship, taking my cue from Hebrews 10:25: “...not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing...”. I specially linked this to the question of worshipping as usual even when we are away from home. We may, for example, be on holiday, but there is no such thing as being on holiday from God.
Well, last week my wife and I were away in a sleepy Warwickshire village, and as Sunday approached we had to choose between driving perhaps ten miles to the kind of evangelical church we are used to, or walking five minutes to the local parish church. No choice at all, really, for various reasons.
A notice in the church porch told us it was “Rogation Sunday”, about which we knew literally nothing, so we looked forward to expanding our knowledge as well as worshipping God and meeting with fellow-believers. (The service would be “followed by bacon butties and coffee” - though that didn’t influence us, of course.)
In the Anglican church calendar there are various “rogation days”. They are borrowed from originally pagan customs which involved processing through the fields to pray for the crops. Today, it seems, they are used to celebrate farming and harvest, and nature in general - the kind of thing the psalmist is rejoicing at in Psalm 148.
So we arrived at the church door and joined a little gaggle of mainly elderly people, some - presumably the choir - dressed in coloured robes, and proceeded to walk through the village, led by a man holding aloft a big metal cross.
Five or six times we stopped to sing (do you remember those old harvest hymns?), to pray and to listen to a scripture passage with a bearing on the miracle of creation.
We were loudly bleated at by indignant-sounding sheep, and vaguely surveyed by droopy-eyed cows. We prayed for pigs and sheep and bees (one of the party was a bee-keeper who sold his honey locally) and all manner of other creatures.
To an outsider we probably looked a pretty comical little bunch. But however far removed it was from what we were used to, we found the experience refreshing and enjoyable. The Bible passages took on a new meaning, and the hymns were a great reminder to us (city-people through and through) that “spring-time and harvest” are indeed worthy of our focus and appreciation.
The fellowship was good too. The eyes of the regulars fairly lit up at the appearance of these two strangers (“How lovely to have you with us today! Would you be willing to do a reading?” - no messing there). They took themselves anything but too seriously - there was plenty of banter and laughter at the end - and the mood was seriously good-natured.
We had some serious conversation too, mainly about the state of the church in such rural areas (the vicar was responsible for no less than six churches). We were able to share a little about where we were from, and about our understanding of what it means to be a church.
So all in all we were in no doubt that we had made the right decision about where to worship that Sunday.
Was this church one that we would feel inclined to join if we lived in the area? No, I don’t think so. Was it a church where the gospel was clearly preached and the Bible taught? We mustn’t judge, of course, especially on the basis of such a brief experience, but to be honest I very much doubt it.
But we felt at home among these people - and who would we be to doubt that they were our brothers and sisters in Christ? Yes, their background and traditions were very different from ours, but we felt that we learned good things from being among them. No doubt when we meet in heaven we will see them in a very different light - as they too will see us.
So, back to where we were last time... Are you planning to go away this summer? Good! Then make sure to meet up with the local believers. It may be your privilege to be a real blessing to them. Still more, expect to be blessed yourself through them. God’s people come in all shapes and sizes...
(Oh, and the bacon butties weren’t bad, either. Nor the cake and coffee...)
Father, thank you for your world-wide church, scattered in communities large and small, and worshipping in a wide variety of ways. Thank you too for making me a part of it through faith in Jesus. Help me to value and love my fellow-believers, however different their ways may be from mine. Amen.
I wrote last time about the danger of drifting away from regular worship and fellowship, taking my cue from Hebrews 10:25: “...not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing...”. I specially linked this to the question of worshipping as usual even when we are away from home. We may, for example, be on holiday, but there is no such thing as being on holiday from God.
Well, last week my wife and I were away in a sleepy Warwickshire village, and as Sunday approached we had to choose between driving perhaps ten miles to the kind of evangelical church we are used to, or walking five minutes to the local parish church. No choice at all, really, for various reasons.
A notice in the church porch told us it was “Rogation Sunday”, about which we knew literally nothing, so we looked forward to expanding our knowledge as well as worshipping God and meeting with fellow-believers. (The service would be “followed by bacon butties and coffee” - though that didn’t influence us, of course.)
In the Anglican church calendar there are various “rogation days”. They are borrowed from originally pagan customs which involved processing through the fields to pray for the crops. Today, it seems, they are used to celebrate farming and harvest, and nature in general - the kind of thing the psalmist is rejoicing at in Psalm 148.
So we arrived at the church door and joined a little gaggle of mainly elderly people, some - presumably the choir - dressed in coloured robes, and proceeded to walk through the village, led by a man holding aloft a big metal cross.
Five or six times we stopped to sing (do you remember those old harvest hymns?), to pray and to listen to a scripture passage with a bearing on the miracle of creation.
We were loudly bleated at by indignant-sounding sheep, and vaguely surveyed by droopy-eyed cows. We prayed for pigs and sheep and bees (one of the party was a bee-keeper who sold his honey locally) and all manner of other creatures.
To an outsider we probably looked a pretty comical little bunch. But however far removed it was from what we were used to, we found the experience refreshing and enjoyable. The Bible passages took on a new meaning, and the hymns were a great reminder to us (city-people through and through) that “spring-time and harvest” are indeed worthy of our focus and appreciation.
The fellowship was good too. The eyes of the regulars fairly lit up at the appearance of these two strangers (“How lovely to have you with us today! Would you be willing to do a reading?” - no messing there). They took themselves anything but too seriously - there was plenty of banter and laughter at the end - and the mood was seriously good-natured.
We had some serious conversation too, mainly about the state of the church in such rural areas (the vicar was responsible for no less than six churches). We were able to share a little about where we were from, and about our understanding of what it means to be a church.
So all in all we were in no doubt that we had made the right decision about where to worship that Sunday.
Was this church one that we would feel inclined to join if we lived in the area? No, I don’t think so. Was it a church where the gospel was clearly preached and the Bible taught? We mustn’t judge, of course, especially on the basis of such a brief experience, but to be honest I very much doubt it.
But we felt at home among these people - and who would we be to doubt that they were our brothers and sisters in Christ? Yes, their background and traditions were very different from ours, but we felt that we learned good things from being among them. No doubt when we meet in heaven we will see them in a very different light - as they too will see us.
So, back to where we were last time... Are you planning to go away this summer? Good! Then make sure to meet up with the local believers. It may be your privilege to be a real blessing to them. Still more, expect to be blessed yourself through them. God’s people come in all shapes and sizes...
(Oh, and the bacon butties weren’t bad, either. Nor the cake and coffee...)
Father, thank you for your world-wide church, scattered in communities large and small, and worshipping in a wide variety of ways. Thank you too for making me a part of it through faith in Jesus. Help me to value and love my fellow-believers, however different their ways may be from mine. Amen.
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