There's a new Sunday morning ritual in my life that's scaring me a little.
I get comfy on the couch.
In this bigger picture of health-restriction life, not gathering on Sundays has been the hardest adjustment for me. Especially right now as I have stepped back into a role where some of my most favourite parts of the job happen early Sunday morning, leading up to and including our time together as a community.
Two Sundays. Last November there were only two Sundays where that actually happened. Where I could set my alarm to be up before sunrise, head down to the church to begin to prepare my own heart for worship in the solitude of the building, indulge in several sets of worship as the band arrived and rehearsed, and then - together with my family - offer praise and open the Word.
So I guess it's natural that I would seek to find other ways to set the day apart. New rituals to prepare my heart for the on line way of being together. Ways to still my mind and open my heart that I find so necessary, else I just end up 'watching church'.
It's healthy to adjust. Not just for myself, but for all those I love and lead, I want that. I do. How awful if we could not find our rituals and routines to embrace the different ways of being the people of God, of approaching Him in awe, of tenaciously staying spiritually 'together' while we anticipate the day when we physically will be.
But what if this all gets too comfy?
It bothers me. It seems that in our pandemic default to self-preservation there's a high risk of forgetting that we follow a Saviour Who calls us to deny ourselves.
"Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save their lives will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will find it." Matthew 16:24-25
The leaders at Highview, like many churches I imagine, are seeking input from their people to see what's working and what's not for Sunday mornings right now. Rearranging the order of things. Posting things so they can be easily accessed. Thinking through how the on line experience 'feels' for various folks at various stages of life. And we'll keep on doing that, for sure.
But something would be terribly wrong if we didn't also remind ourselves that being a follower of the Jesus who hung on the Cross isn't likely to be 'convenient.' That the demands of discipleship don't jive well with 'church on demand.' That our mission to go into all the world and make disciples probably won't find us comfy on the couch.
Heaven forbid (literally) if, in our efforts to make worship and teaching more accessible during lockdown, we convey a false message that this is all about making things easier.
This isn't just about Sunday mornings either. Being 'the Church' has far, far wider implications than just what we're doing on the day we gather, whatever way that happens. It's about ALL the ways we worship, and ALL the ways we love, and ALL the ways we grow, and ALL the ways we reflect to the world Who Jesus is.
This morning, in our 'on line' service, we'll be observing Communion together.
I really, really hope it feels uncomfortable.
