Last Sunday, I was at the home of my father and his wife. In the morning, I wrote the post below, but was unable to post it, since there is no internet access at their home.
The morning has begun quietly and yet time has flown by. I awoke at 6:30 and already it is 9:30. Soon I must dress for church. I am filled with a great peace, enjoying the silence that surrounds me. The fan across the room hums quietly and faint light from outside filters into the room. Even with that light and the light from a table lamp, the room is dark, almost cavelike.
Soon there will be people all around as I go to church, people from my childhood and people that I don’t know. The surroundings will be familiar, a simple church with beautiful multicolored windows in a random pattern. The church, too, is cavelike. Simple wooden beams from floor to ceiling and across the ceiling. Pews of light stained wood with maroon cushions. An elevated pulpit with a choir loft. A Communion table on the floor in front of the pulpit. A light colored industrial tile floor. The plainness of the room makes it beautiful. It is a place designed for worship in a plain style, without elaborate rituals or distracting images, a place to sense the presence of God.
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