Holy Moments

April 20, 2019

When you can tear kids away from the tv, tablets, and phones to play a real live interactive game together, it’s not a time to squander the moment. Eight of our nine grandchildren were sitting in a circle in the living room laughing, as one by one they tried to guess the secret the others shared. By my reckoning it was a holy hour, and I didn’t want to leave. When I finally stood up to go, it was already 7:10. 

The auditorium was filled; except for the line of people slowly walking to the front where the table was set for them, they were silently sitting in the dim light of candles and the glow of the emergency exit signs. Not a word was being spoken. After finding a seat and offering prayers of repentance for a few minutes, I joined the line, received communion, and returned to my seat. Soon the readings began, recalling the last hours of Jesus Christ as he determinately approached the Cross. 

We left in silence and I came home to the kids still playing the guessing game, still laughing and enjoying the chaos of the moment. I joined in until it was time to get ready for bed. We prayed with them, and now it’s quiet. I’m the only one up, and I feel strangely unsettled. I don’t like missing Good Friday services. Easter Sunday makes no sense without Good Friday; after all, there can be no resurrection unless there’s been a crucifixion. Easter is meaningless apart from Good Friday. I actually miss the early days of ministry when the area churches held ecumenical three hour Good Friday services from noon till three o’clock. The liturgy was built around the seven last words of Jesus on the Cross; there would be seven sermons as pastors preached one after another on one of the words. All would be interspersed with hymns and prayers. They were powerful reminders of the price Jesus paid for our sins.

Coming in late tonight, I felt like I was desperately trying to catch up. I was there, hearing the words and receiving the grace, but it wasn’t the same because I didn’t have enough time to truly prepare my own heart. Partial worship isn’t much better than no worship at all. God is always ready to save, ready to meet us where we are, but we are not always ready to be saved and be met. It takes time, and when we take shortcuts, we don’t always end up where we need to be.

I am thankful tonight for this reminder that I cannot just waltz into the Presence of the Almighty God as if I were sauntering into a pool hall. The Almighty has invited us to come, has humbled himself in the Incarnation, even to the extent of dying on the cross for us. The least I can do is take him seriously enough to be on time and to prepare my heart to bow before him. My time with our grandchildren is holy business, but not more holy than my time with my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.