Sunday, February 22, 2004
Sunday, February 22, 2004
Therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us give
thanks, by which we offer to God an acceptable worship with reverence and awe.
(Hebrews 12.28
NRSV)
The man's Gregorian chant was sung with such power that it stopped Osborne in his tracks. The altar and pews were empty, but the man's baritone filled the church.
Osborne moved out from below the balcony, making his way up the narrow, winding staircase that led to the loft and bell tower, walking carefully to keep the old stairs from groaning. Standing alone by the organist's bench, facing the altar, was a disheveled middle-aged man, his eyes closed, singing High Mass for all he was worth.
He wore a heavy black coat almost long enough to be a cassock, and he held a woolen sailor's cap in his clasped hands. When he came to the benediction at the end, he opened his eyes as if to watch his last notes rise. The floor squeaked beneath Osborne, and the man turned quickly as if caught. "Are you the new priest?" Osborne asked.
"No," the man answered. "I just felt like singing to God if he's still here." As he started to move toward the stairwell, Osborne could see that his eyes were red and his beard was stubby. "Such awful things happenin' on [God's] earth," the man said, walking past Osborne. "Felt a little song might cheer Him up."
The man stopped and turned back, then raised his hands, palms up. "Everything's as it was," he told Osborne. "I haven't touched a thing." And when he was gone, Osborne began thinking how wondrously wrong the man was. The man's song offered to God in honest praise had brought God alive in that place.
That's what happens when we come to worship with honest and forthright adoration. God comes alive in our hearts.
Loving God, I adore you and worship you. Thank you for your gifts of love. Amen.
