Thoughts from the Weekend

I have a lot of thoughts running through my mind today. It has been an eventful weekend, with a funeral and a wedding shower yesterday and an amazing church experience today. In between, my 14-year-old daughter lost her mind and tried to flood the house. And the Super Bowl commercials are about to kick off in a couple of hours. Quite the weekend.

I would love to give you the lowdown on all of these events, but my goals are ONE blog per week, not FOUR. The flooding would be the easiest story to tell, but that doesn't mean it's the best one to tell. The shower story is complicated by a backstory that needs to be told at a later time, if at all. And I'm still processing the funeral of the late, great Roberta Carman. But something that happened at that funeral leads me into my story today.

We all thought Roberta was going to die over five years ago. So much so that we devoted an entire Sunday morning 8:15 classic service to remembering her. Her family was mostly in town, so we asked them what songs she might want sung and we paid tribute to Roberta -- prematurely, as it turned out. I was reminded of that at the funeral, when the worship team began with "The Battle Hymn of the Republic." We also sang that one at her first memorial, five years ago.

So today in our church, we reflected on that particular song. In case you are not familiar with this particular hymn, here are the words:

Mine eyes have seen the glory
Of the coming of the Lord
He is trampling out the vintage
Where the grapes of wrath are stored
He has loosed the fateful lightning
Of His terrible swift sword
His truth is marching on

Glory, glory, hallelujah
Glory, glory, hallelujah
Glory, glory, hallelujah
Our God is marching on

He has sounded form the trumpet
That shall never call retreat
He is sifting out the hearts of men
Before His judgment-seat
Oh, be swift, my soul
To answer him be jubilant, my feet
Our God is marching on

Glory, glory, hallelujah
Glory, glory, hallelujah
Glory, glory, hallelujah
Our God is marching on

In the beauty of the lilies
Christ was born across the sea
With a glory in his bosom
That transfigures you and me
As he died to make men holy
Let us live to make men free
While God is marching on

Glory, glory, hallelujah
Glory, glory, hallelujah
Glory, glory, hallelujah
Our God is marching on

We talked about the pictures of Jesus that we find in the Scriptures. We're walking (slowly) through Luke, trying to understand his picture of Jesus. We talked about how we can see Jesus as a warrior king (like He is portrayed in this hymn) and still get him completely wrong. We read a story from the book of 2 Maccabees about a mother and her seven sons who were cruelly tortured and killed by Antiochus IV and what we might be able to learn from that. We cried at several points in the discussion. We said some profound things; we said some inane things. We laughed. We prayed. We asked a lot of questions and came up with a few answers (that's our modus operandi). We wrestled with who this Jesus is and what He is asking us to be.

We're an interesting group, this church I attend. We meet in a home. We say words that aren't really church-appropriate. We don't believe any one of us has all the answers -- especially not the "pastor." We walk out with more questions than we came in to church with. And yet it is sacred space. Holy ground. Kingdom.

I am always grateful for the community.

Today, I was grateful for the experience.

I wish you could have been there.