Fifty and One

I think I failed to mention, amidst the tangle of plumbing and sheetrock and new bathroom thingamabobs, that I made it to church on Sunday.

I sat among the Fifty who attended and enjoyed myself and the practice of my faith immensely. When you sit among the Fifty, you are most definitely identified as The One. Most of The Fifty want to meet The One and find out who he is, where he's from, how he's doing, why he's there, will he be back and, ultimately, Does He Know The Lord? I attempted a quick slip out the door before the predictable onslaught could occur, but the 65 year old lady pastor was faster than I had given her credit for being and I held the last note of Blessed Assurance a little longer than I should have and I was caught.

Since I don't hear well, especially with background chatter, I thought she asked me how I was doing and I answered, "Fine, thanks!" She repeated, "Who do we have with us today?" I assumed it wasn't a pop quiz on the names of The Fifty, so I coughed up my first name, figuring she would have an arduous task of narrowing me down in the phone book that way. She is serious and dour in that friendly way that pastors are supposed to be. I think that's to encourage you to impose on them with your troubles while at the same time making sure you don't impose willy-nilly for the little things. That's a skill worth perfecting, I think.

I was grinning throughout the service as she preached on II Corinthians I, Paul's second (presumably) letter to the church at Corinth. I've been thinking a lot about the man with whom I've made contact - the one who is locked in the church for a variety of reasons and struggling to make sense out of and peace with his sexual orientation and his faith. I thought of him, me and so many others when Paul wrote in verse 3 of "The Father of Mercies and The God of All Comfort".

Ms. Pastor read on through verse 4 where Paul wrote that The God of All Comfort does his comforting "SO THAT we may be able to comfort them who are in any trouble. (5) As sufferings abound, so our consolation also abounds..."

I grinned because I had been drawn back to that song from my childhood, "He Giveth More Grace" in the previous week. And there I sat listening about the Father of All Mercies and the purpose for our having been offered comfort - to offer it to others. And I thought a little of helping my friends who had just been through the nightmare of open-heart surgery. I felt good about myself and realized there was a larger context for such not-so-random acts of kindness.

Ms. Pastor shared her story of beginning in ministry at age 14 and how she had endured a "proving" of the ministry, as we call it. My thoughts skipped to the 23rd Psalm, so beloved and well-known by even the unchurched. And it occurred to me, in the spirit of "proving", that there is a distinct and important difference between what King David wrote "Yea, though I walk through The Valley Of The Shadow Of Death..." and being able to say "Hey, now I've walked through The Valley Of The Shadow Of Death..." That's what we call a "proving". And I smiled again because I felt like I sat there as a proven man of faith, not an interloper.

None of the emotions and fears that I'd anticipated materialized. They shook my hand and sang some of my favorite songs. They even sang a hymn written by Ira Stanphill, who I never met, but whose daughter was my pastor's wife in Omaha, Nebraska for a number of years. Good people, they. I'm glad I made it this week. I think I'll be back again. In the great equalizing of the cosmos that some call Karma and some call Faith, I love leaving with this promise:

"As sufferings abound, so our consolation abounds." II Cor. 1:5

Consoled am I. Amen.