Two Sundays ago, it happened during the invitation. A gentleman made his way to the altar to pray, obviously hurting. He stopped and knelt there, seeking maybe comfort, maybe answers. A moment passed as he prayed and wept. Then quietly, without prompting – save from God Himself – one of our senior ladies walked to him, stood with him and took up the prayer. It wasn’t long before others joined them. By the time I really noticed what was going on, there were 10-15 people gathered around him praying, supporting, loving. It was beautiful.
Last Sunday, it happened in the middle of the service. I asked for people to share what they were thankful for. After several had shared, a young woman stood to speak. While I knew her story – and we all have a story – I wasn’t sure how many others did. So she started her story, except she spoke Spanish. While it was the language she felt best able to express herself in, very few could understand. But just a couple of seats away, a young man started translating, without prompting – save from God Himself. Phrase by phrase, they told of God’s goodness and faithfulness. It was beautiful.
As part of the series we are in on Christian theology, I plan to preach on the doctrine of the church, or ecclesiology, the first Sunday in December . I will try to say the things the Bible says about what the church is and should do. But I am not sure anything I say will be more effective than actually watching the church – this church, our church – these past couple of weeks.