Church Keys

 

To the congregation of North Park Presbyterian Church, Grand Rapids, MI

 

Church Keys  

My new church keys are waiting on the desk. One key for the large wooden church door. One key for the administrative assistant’s office door. One key for my new office door. They are heavy keys. I slip them on to a keychain and into my bag.

I enter a new church. I have done this before, received the keys to outside doors and inside doors. But on this day in mid-February, I enter and find few people. So many are not inside these doors.

“Who,” you ask? A congregation. Grandmas and grandpas. Moms and dads. College students. High school students. Little ones. Single people. Married people. Married-more-than-once-people. Widows. Widowers. Singers. Musicians. The creative ones. The-good-with-numbers people. The cranky ones. The happy ones. The crying ones. The smiling ones. Saints. Sinners. A congregation. Not so much a congregation as a family.

My church keys get me in the church door. They get me into my new office. I can even sneak a water bottle from the admin’s office because of my church keys.

New relationships begin. I hear a few stories and learn about families. I hear about funerals of loved ones through tear-filled eyes. I learn who is a senior in high school and the strange year they’ve had with books at home, class on a computer. No in-person graduation this year (again).

I’m aware this congregation, this “family” has been separated for over a year now. Church keys have opened an empty church. No palm branches on Palm Sunday. No white lilies on Easter. No red on Pentecost. No Sunday school program. No Christmas.

Family separation is a terrible thing. The longing for one another is a never-ending ache. There is a silent sanctuary ready to be filled. Sunday school rooms longing for children. Sunday morning coffee waiting in the canister.

Of all the times I have been handed church keys, happy and curious about the future, this is the most challenging time I’ve had as a pastor. I meet a few of you with masked faces. Most of you I have only seen in the church directory.

When? When will we be pastor and congregation tethered together by the Holy Spirit? When will we gather to sing and pray and praise the God we love? It will be a glorious day, won’t it? Yes, it certainly will!

Worship on YouTube is…um…different. Preaching to absolutely no one is tricky. I need your faces. Even if you fall asleep half-way through the sermon, at least I can see you. I want to hear a baby cry in the middle of the service so I can say, “Now there’s a real preacher!” I want to know you. I want to hear your stories.

Church keys open the large wooden door. Church keys open my new office door. It’s exciting. It’s different.

But the best days will be when I have the keys to your hearts.

You already have the key to mine.

Peace and joy,

Pastor Barb