The stunning picture is of the south sanctuary windows in my son Peter's church in Winnetka, Illinois (credits to Scott Edwards). What moves me in this Epiphany season of light is the ardor of it, strong rays reflecting rich tones of varied colors on the places where believers gather weekly to worship.
Something in the blending of the colors, every hue contributing to the whole but none dominating, defines the way Christ's body is. Widely diverse in personality, background, and experience, believers gather, as the earliest Christians did, "all together in one place" (Acts 2:1).
Something in the blending of the colors, every hue contributing to the whole but none dominating, defines the way Christ's body is. Widely diverse in personality, background, and experience, believers gather, as the earliest Christians did, "all together in one place" (Acts 2:1).
The picture also speaks of the prevenience of God, the Lord of life and light, ever present in his sanctuary--even when noone else is. Invoking him as we always do does not mean inviting him to come there--for he is already present. It is he that invokes our presence. Ours is simply to acknowledge him and receive the blessings he alone can supply.
One thing more I see and sense here. A real peril, one might name it. What if all we seek in God's house is the glory of being thus illumined and blessed ourselves? Is that all there is to worship? Can we be said to have been illumined by God in his house if on leaving the sanctuary we fail to share the light we received there with loved ones, friends, neighbors, co-workers, and yes, even our enemies?
God, whose purpose is to kindle, now ignite us with your fire.
While the world awaits your burning, with your passion us inspire.
Overcome our sinful calmness, move us with redemptive shame.
Baptize with your fiery Spirit, crown our lives with tongues of flame.
God, who still a sword delivers rather than a placid peace,
with your sharpened word disturb us, from complacency release!
Save us now from satisfaction, when we privately are free,
yet are undisturbed in spirit by our neighbor's misery.
God, who in your holy Gospel wills that all should truly live,
make us sense our share of failure, our tranquility forgive.
Teach us courage as we struggle in all liberating strife.
Lift the smallness of our vision by your own abundant life.
Elton Trueblood (1900-1993, alt)
The Covenant Hymnal: A Worshipbook, No. 284
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