Finding Grace

Sunday morning found the Atkinson family visiting a church for the first time. We chose an older Episcopal church in our city that is well known for having a high and traditional worship service. Before going we checked their website and found that there was a Bible study for middle and high school students as well as a couple of study options for adults. We got there early to attend the Bible studies before worship.

When we arrived, we found the youth room empty and the lights turned out. We were told that the church doesn't have youth Bible study on Sundays during the summer. I was a little put out that the website had not made this clear. Church insiders would know, of course, but visitors have no way of knowing.

The irony (and hypocrisy) of this is that when I was the pastor of Covenant Baptist Church, we didn't have Bible study during summers either. And our website was NEVER up-to-date enough to reflect this. I always said that a church has better things to do than constantly update their website.

The girls came with us to the adult Bible study. We were a bit late and there weren’t enough chairs for the four of us to sit together with the class, so we sat at a table in the back. I picked up a copy of the printed lesson on the way in, but it turned out to be two weeks old. Everyone else seemed to have the current lesson, but there were none left for us. I was distracted because my kids were clearly bored with the adult class and sat staring off into space. And without the texts to read, I found it hard to stay engaged as well.

The class was discussing an Old Testament passage about welcoming strangers into the community. Various people stood and made comments about this. I'm ashamed to say that initially my mind was working in negative ways. I wondered if anyone noticed that there were strangers present that morning, sitting in the back, struggling to keep up with what was going on while dealing with bored teenagers.

And then I experienced what some people call a moment of clarity. I can take no credit for it, since I was in a negative frame of mind and clearly not being generous in spirit.

I think what caught my attention was the passion with which the teacher, a priest at the church named Jane, was interacting with the class. And they were deeply engaged with what she was saying. They took turns sharing from their hearts about what it would mean to welcome and love strangers. When someone spoke, Jane would run over to them with a microphone so that everyone could hear. They were learning what it means to be God’s people.

In that moment I heard from Jesus. I heard from Jesus as clearly as if he had tapped me on the shoulder and whispered in my ear. This is what Jesus said to me:

Gordon, these are my beloved children. They are my Church, and you are being very unkind to them. They are here, broken and wounded as you are, seeking to grow, seeking to become and be the body of Christ, seeking to be made into a new creation in my image. And look at my servant Jane. How she loves them. How she believes in them. How passionately she teaches the gospel to them. If Jane believes in them and I believe in them, perhaps you could believe in them too. And surely I don’t need to remind you of your church’s website and summer schedule and the time that a man came for Bible study and felt so unwelcome he didn’t stay for church.

My heart was broken - thanks be to God - and in that instant I loved the people in that class. Suddenly the lack of Bible study materials was a silly oversight. And they were so caught up in their lesson about welcoming strangers that I knew - I just KNEW that the minute the class was over, when they realized there were strangers among them, we would be embraced.

And of course we were. People said hello, and Jane made a special point of finding us and telling us how glad she was that we were there. I was put to shame and felt sorry for what I had thought. And then, in a contrite spirit, I was well prepared for worship. The beauty and the careful execution of their formal worship, along with the gorgeous language of the Book of Common Prayer, broke my heart open with joy. I wept through much of the service.

It was the most meaningful worship I have experienced in years.

We went to church that Sunday hoping to find grace. We did, but first I had to find it in my own heart.

Gordon Atkinson

The photo is from a royalty free collection and was edited by Gordon Atkinson