Our First Service

Last night, my Dearly Beloved and I lead our first worship service together.

We have come to this point by an interesting road. When we commenced our Periods of Discernment last year, we wanted to undertake a project that would provide us with some experience in leading worship, as well as working collaboratively with others to enable them to utilise and express their gifts. At the same time, we also wanted to make a contribution to our local Uniting Church community.

As is often the way with these things, we found our way forward by talking to people. Through conversation, we discerned that there was a desire within our local church community for a time and a space which was focused exclusively on worship and worship styles; a process that complemented the regular Sunday morning service, but which was solely about the exercise of worship, about drawing on the richness of Christian tradition in order to bring people into an encounter with the holiness and mystery of God.

As a consequence, my Dearly Beloved and I hit upon the idea of a series of monthly services on a Sunday evening. They would not be services as this is understood in terms of the regular Sunday service; rather, they would be services that would focus on and utilise a particular process of worship. Hardly an original idea, I grant you, but we recognised that it fit the bill in terms of what we wanted to achieve and the contribution to our community we wanted to make.

The first step was discussing the idea with our local minister; and as we talked through the project with him, we felt blessed by his wonderful support, affirmation, and wise guidance. With great enthusiasm, he helped clarify our thinking and gave us the green light to proceed. Next, we approached a smaller group of people within the church community whom we knew possessed particular gifts and asked if they wanted to be involved in the project; and for a second time we were blessed by their support, enthusiasm, and generosity. Before we quite realised what had happened, we were planning the first service.

And last night was the occasion for same. It was a contemplative service structured in "cycles" that told the life of Christ from the commencement of his ministry to just before his entry into Jerusalem. Each cycle consisted of a reading, a Taize chant, and a meditation space. The intent was to generat in the participants a meditative mindset that enabled them to focus on God, and to have an experience of the indwelling of God which they could then take with them from the worship space.

The service started at 7pm. The cool change was threatening, but it was still hellishly hot. Nonetheless, an encouraging number of hardy souls turned up for the service. In retrospect, the whole service went better than either my Dearly Beloved or I anticipated, thanks to the contributions of our support group and the affirming presence of our fellow parishioners. No doubt there will be one or two minor aspects that will require attention; we'll debrief on these and make any necessary adjustment. But it seems to me that by the time the service ended forty minutes after it commenced, an atmosphere of contemplative peace had indeed touched all who participated.

For me, one of the most significant moments occurred during the first meditation space. As silence fell upon the congregation, the cool change at last arrived, and rain poured down onto the church roof. I have always loved the sound of rain falling, especially at night; and on this particularly hot and torrid evening, the sound of rain falling felt like the gentle benediction of God's grace.

Talk to you soon,

BB.

Quote for the Day: The quality of mercy is not strain'd, it droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven upon the place beneath. (William Shakespeare)