Back in early February, I had a Sunday off, on the day before my birthday. That morning I thought about going to church with my wife, or visiting a nearby congregation where I’d love to hear the preacher. But I had the thought, “I don’t want to have to talk to anyone.” So I listened to that voice, and to my heart, and ended up spending the morning in our basement.
Something that’s been saving me this winter is a little project in which I’m sanding and refinishing some old doors, the varnish of which was old, cracked, and dirty. I’m cleaning up these old doors in order to repurpose them, and this simple task makes me glad. On that Sunday morning at home, I made a cup of coffee and put the worship service from Marsh Chapel at Boston University on the radio. I listened for a while as I set about my work, but the reception was spotty, so eventually I started listening to Handel’s Messiah (the later part, more suitable for this season).
I set about varnishing the doors, which is even more gratifying than the sanding part, singing along to Messiah, happily realizing this was the perfect form of worship for me on that day. I took a photo, and sent it to my family with this caption: “Worshipping in the catacombs this morning,” with a couple of smiley emojis.
It’s an incredible luxury to have a basement, and to have time and opportunity for little projects like this. And my point is, you can worship anywhere. Last night, the online Vespers service created by Clare and Dawn created a worshipping space and community, even though we were in our own separate locations. And I really needed that time for quiet and prayer, that experience of being blessed by those companions and by God’s presence in our midst.
In these trying days, I hope you will listen to your heart and let it lead you to spaces where you can be in the presence of the Holy. It may be making art, or cleaning a room, or doing dishes, your hands basking in the warm water. It may be calling a friend, or writing notes, or sitting in the sun. It may be doing nothing at all.
This prayer from the Episcopal Book of Common Prayer is in my heart these days:
O God of peace, who has taught us that in returning and rest we shall be saved, in quietness and in confidence shall be our strength: By the might of your Spirit lift us, we pray, to your presence, where we may be still and know that you are God.. Amen.
Take care friends, and take heart. You can worship anywhere. Alone, and in community. Both ways are available. And we need them; we need to be in touch with that Holy presence, so we can be grounded and present for the living of these days.