Symbolism

The sun is sinking behind the mountains and the shadows are lengthening in this old, run down chapel in Appalachia. I know what’s coming, but I remember the overwhelming feelings the first time we participated in high church liturgy.

Today we meet in a mid century Methodist church in a neighborhood that many folks wouldn’t want to be out in at night. The Methodist with money back in the 1940’s realized that too many “poor people” were coming to their “rich church”…so they built them their own. 

But the poor people stopped coming to the “poor church” and the “rich church” a long time ago, at least until our small parish showed up.

The light is filtering through the ugly stained glass windows before the crucifer makes their way down the worn carpet aisle toward the front of the chapel. 

Remember those ugly cars called, Yugos that came out in the 1980’s? And we all wondered why they kept making them? They worked, sort of, but mercy - so ugly. 

That may help describe the stained glass in our tiny parish building.  They work, sort of, but mercy indeed. It doesn’t matter though, the Light is still beautiful no matter the filter it pushes its way through. Sort of like the Light of Christ pushing His way through people.

A college student at the entrance to the sanctuary stands ready with a cross raised above their head, followed by a child with two candles as the final person, an elderly woman, waits in line holding the Gospel’s. 

“The Lord be with you!” Father Justin announces. 

The first time I saw the Bride respond to this blessing of the priest we were so tired emotionally and spiritually and even physically. You cannot be exhausted emotionally and spiritually and your body not be affected, too.

“And also with you!” We all chorus. 

Ruth’s Boaz used to yell across his fields to the workers, “The Lord be with you!” as in “God is watching you! Don’t rip me off!” and the field workers would respond, “And the Lord be also with you!” as if to remind their employer, “God watches all of us - do not abuse your power.”  

I love that this exchange still exists today in the Bride. The Lord be with all of us. This is a traditional high church exchange between a priest and the congregants. It is a blessing, yes - not to mention a quick way to get everyone’s attention. :) 

“Let us prepare our hearts for the procession of the cross.” 

The first time I participated in, mostly watched, high church liturgy we were on a self imposed summer sabbatical from our non denominational church. Because we still walked in a lot of religious fear, we chose to visit other denominations on those summer Sundays rather than actually, well…rest. 

St. John’s was in our neighborhood. Easy. We had never been, and it was different from what we knew. So we walked in with our worn out family to one of the more sterile services I had to date, experienced. “Dead.” is the word used in the pentecostal type circles I grew up in and the circle I was sabbaticaling from. 

To say we endured the service was an understatement. Bow. Up and down. Call and response. Up and down. Kneel. Bow. Up and down. Call and response. “Deliver us, oh Lord!” is what I was thinking. But my curiosity peaked and I watched everything intently. I had never been surrounded by so much symbolism not to mention, I would not have believed you if you told me that my husband would one day be an Anglican priest.

The cross is being carried to the center of the church. People are bowing and making the sign of the cross on their forehead, mouth and chest. I know now that Anglicans cross their forehead, mouth and chest before the Gospel reading to signify their desire for the Lord to sanctify their minds, speech and hearts. Nothing magical, just another symbol of why we are here and better yet, the posture we should place ourselves in while we gather. 

The priest reads a part of the gospel from Luke and says, 

“The gospel of the Lord.” 

The Bride responds, “Glory to you, Lord Christ!”

“Please be seated or kneel as we go before the Father to confess our sins.”

I find myself invited to silently confess my sins and I cannot remember doing this in church. Ever. The congregants are praying a prayer they all seem to know. Nothing magical about kneeling, either. All of this symbolism is about reminding us of the posture we should have before Jesus and Bride. Beautiful.

“Most merciful Father, we confess that we have sinned against you in thought, word and deed in what we have done and what we have left undone…for the sake of your Son Jesus Christ, have mercy on us and forgive us.”

They take an offering and then the priest begins…stepping behind the table with the elements.

Almighty God,

to whom all hearts are open,

all desires known,

and from whom no secrets are hidden:

cleanse the thoughts of our hearts

by the inspiration of your Holy Spirit,

that we may perfectly love you,

and worthily magnify your holy name;

through Christ our Lord.

                               Amen.

The priest prays and then he invites us all to come to the table. 

Honestly, I am worn out. I do not like to stand out in a crowd and our large family has done nothing but stand out here at our first high church experience. God, help. How do people know what in the world to do next? We’re all just ready to get home.

My three year old is hungry and tired and ready for lunch. I hold him and whisper that the service is almost over. And out of the blue, the atmosphere is shifting, and I sense it. This is familiar as I have felt the Spirit before on my faith journey and for the first time in this church, actually.

People make a line and wait to be served the bread and the wine. It looks like they do this every week, but I’m not sure. We only take communion (quite the bother to do it more often, I suppose) in my expression of the Bride about four times a year.  I am intently watching as I’ve never been served communion, I have been given the elements to feed myself back in my chair; but never served and blessed. 

At least we don’t stand out now - growing up in religion you find that it is quite natural to get in line and follow. I make my way forward and kneel for the second time that day. I am reminded that this posture of at least the heart is necessary when approaching the King.

I’d never kneeled on a kneeler before that day. The priest is coming our way and so are my tears. “This is holy and this is sacred.” I sigh as the spiritual weariness washes away.

“The body of Christ, broken for you.”

And I am broken and undone.

The blood of Christ, the cup of salvation.”

And I am saved. Again. Like Paul.

Everyone makes their way back to their pew. We watch as the cross recedes out of the sanctuary, people are bowing. “So much bowing.” I think as we leave and walk home, “But so much beauty.” 

I was thankful to know we would not be returning to St. John’s, although I had felt the Spirit move there…and it had been a very long time since I had felt that anywhere inside the walls of a church. The curiosity for symbolism sparked at St. Johns would be reignited one day, but for that season of our lives there would be much more crushing.

We are still Believers :) even after the crushing…with an appreciation of the Anglican expression. I will say that the Father has led us to a tiny branch of the Anglican church that is what my old circles would call, “Spirit filled.” It feels like home.

Today we are not spiritually or emotionally exhausted; yet we do stay fairly physically spent here on the farm. :) In a good way! And “We are church planting in Murphy, North Carolina.” That phrase still sounds foreign coming out of my mouth. But it is true, and it is beautiful. Death, burial and resurrection. The posture of Life.