A Poem for Hard Sundays – “Church Is Hard”

Church is hard.
Church is hard for the person walking through the doors, afraid of judgment.
Church is hard for the prodigal soul returning home, broken and battered by the world.
Church is hard for the woman who looks like she has it all together, but doesn’t.
Church is hard for the couple who fought the entire ride to service.
Church is hard for the single mom, surrounded by couples holding hands, and seemingly perfect families.
Church is hard for the widow and widower with no invitation to lunch after service.
Church is hard for the deacon with an estranged child.
Church is hard for the choir member overwhelmed by the weight of the lyrics in that song.
Church is hard for the man insecure in his role as a leader.
Church is hard for the single adult praying God brings them a mate.
Church is hard for the teenager, wearing a scarlet letter, ashamed of their mistakes.
Church is hard for the sinners.
Church is hard for me.

It’s hard because on the outside it all looks shiny and perfect. Sunday best in behavior and dress.
However, underneath those layers, you find a body of imperfect people, carnal souls, selfish motives.
But, here is the beauty of church.
Church isn’t a building, mentality, or expectation.
Church is a group of sinners, saved by grace, living in fellowship as saints.
Church is a body of believers bound as brothers and sisters by an eternal love.
Church is a holy ground where sinners stand as equals before the Throne of Grace.
Church is a refuge for broken hearts and a training ground for mighty warriors.
Church is a converging of confrontation and invitation. Where sin is confronted and hearts are invited to seek restoration.
Church is a lesson in faith and trust.
Church is a bearer of burdens and a giver of hope.
Church is a family. A family coming together, setting aside differences, forgetting past mistakes, rejoicing in the smallest of victories.
Church, the body, and the circle of sinners-turned-saints, is where God resides, and if we ask, God is faithful to come.

So even on the hard days at church,
The days when I am at odds with a sister or brother. When I’ve fought with my spouse because we’re late once again. When I’ve walked in bearing burdens heavier than my heart can handle, yet masking the pain with a smile on my face. When I’ve worn a scarlet letter, under the microscope. When I’ve longed for someone to hold, or fought tears as the lyrics were sung. When I’ve walked back in, afraid and broken, after walking away.
I’ll remember, God has never failed to meet me there.

(partially attributed to Jacob Waldron)

A poem to bless times of transition

"Trust in the Slow Work of God" by Pierre Teilhard de Chardin

Above all, trust in the slow work of God.
We are quite naturally impatient in everything to reach the end without delay.
We should like to skip the intermediate stages.
We are impatient of being on the way to something unknown, something new.

And yet it is the law of all progress
that it is made by passing through some stages of instability—
and that it may take a very long time.

And so I think it is with you;
your ideas mature gradually—let them grow,
let them shape themselves, without undue haste.
Don’t try to force them on,
as though you could be today what time
(that is to say, grace and circumstances acting on your own good will)
will make of you tomorrow.

Only God could say what this new spirit
gradually forming within you will be.
Give Our Lord the benefit of believing
that his hand is leading you,
and accept the anxiety of feeling yourself
in suspense and incomplete.

A Poem to Guide Your Prayers – “A Blessing for Traveling in the Dark” by Jan Richardson

We continue to live in hard scary times. It’s tempting to try and rush through them, wildly pushing our way to the other side. But that will not get us anywhere; it will only result in more people getting pushed. Instead of lashing out in denial or anger, we can be at peace even during this time of dark shadow. Peace because God loves us, knows us, and is with us, even in the cloud.

“A Blessing for Traveling in the Dark” by Jan Richardson

Go slow
if you can.
Slower.
More slowly still.
Friendly dark or fearsome,
this is no place to break your neck
by rushing,
by running,
by crashing into what you cannot see.

Then again, it is true:
different darks
have different tasks,
and if you have arrived here unawares,
if you have come
in peril
or in pain,
this might be no place you should dawdle.

I do not know
what these shadows ask of you,
what they might hold
that means you good
or ill.
It is not for me to reckon
whether you should linger
or you should leave.

But this is what I can ask for you:

That in the darkness there be a blessing.
That in the shadows there be a welcome.
That in the night you be encompassed
by the Love that knows your name.