Orthed Out

We just finished with the Monday Service. This evening’s was the best service I can recall being in. Blake and I have been doing a lot of thinking and praying about the service. I am actually pretty jealous of him—he is getting to work on this service and take it in some amazing directions.

For a few weeks, we have been wanting to have communion. We have been preaching on it and preparing the folks in the service. There are faithful, believing Christians, backsliders, non-believers, and the confused. So we had communion for the first time with them tonight. Blake and I practiced the ritual. When the time came, it was beautiful: the folks responded along with us. There were people locked in on us in ways I have not seen before in the service.

When we served communion, it was a high and holy moment. Two folks came up with tears, both of them saying, “It’s been so long…”

The chapel at The Rock is small. Fits maybe 70 comfortably. There is a beautiful stained glass window, of Jesus consoling Mary at the Resurrection. So we have this beautiful picture. We have words and songs to hear. We walk up and touch the bread with our hands. We taste it and the juice. All that we’d be missing is the sense of smell, but we busted out the incense and totally orthed it up. When we prayed, we put the incense on and Blake went out and censed the congregation. We reminded them that the smoke is a symbol of our prayers rising to God, a pleasing sacrifice of praise.

There was a different feeling tonight. People left in such a good mood. Not really a mood or feeling, a sense that something important had happened in the life of the church. At dinner afterwards, many people commented on how they loved the service. We gave them Jesus.