Post Script | May 8, 2023

When Life is Still "Lifey"

You can think a lot of thoughts in the two minutes it takes you to reach the front of the sanctuary from a back pew. You can think a lot of thoughts even if the sanctuary is a small and intimate space, twenty rows divided by a middle aisle. You can think a lot of thoughts on your way to receive communion, as the band continues to play and you continue to sing, knowing full well the people in the rows you’re passing will hear you.

You can think thoughts like, “Maybe this is all that is necessary for living the Christian life. You come to church, you stand from the back of the sanctuary, and you process to the front. You take the bread and the wine from the person who hands it to you and says your name: Jen, the body of Christ, broken for you. Jen, the blood of Christ, shed for you. Most days, you know you’re barely absorbing the mystery in which you’re participating. You’re functioning as a matter of habit, preoccupied by a million other things. But that’s sort of the nature of the thing. Keep at it, don’t overthink it.”

Overthinking is pretty much my job, people. I’m oftentimes tangled up in knots in my head, especially when it comes to the life of faith. What I think I’m always wondering is this: am I doing it right? Is this how it’s done? Should I be feeling this more? Is this sinking in?

Yesterday, I had a gentler answer to these perennially anxious questions. Just keep coming to church. Keep standing to sing, keep taking the bread and the cup. None of this saves you, of course, but it reminds you, week after week, that there is someone holding you fast.

In church, you’re reminded whose efforts matter most. You’re got a seat at a table you did not secure and cannot lose.

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This is brief meditation for this Monday, mostly because life has continued to be as “lifey” as ever. We’re still looking to replace our stolen car, still a couple of weeks away from finishing our house renovation project. We’ve got a kid home from college, guests on their way at the end of May, the two youngest finishing their freshmen year of high school in a couple of weeks.

Yesterday’s Sabbath worship (and nap!) were a good reset—and I woke up this morning thinking that in the midst of all this upheaval, I just need to keep at the small acts of faithfulness. There are never ideal conditions for the life of Christian discipleship. There is only today.

So today, here’s your brief letter. And hopefully next week, another one!