Good morning church family,
“Hey Mom,” Justin said rather loudly; looking into the kitchen where his mother was running water in the sink and cleaning the countertops. “Do you know where the remote control for the TV is?”
“Look on top of the cabinet or maybe next to the recliner,” his mother replied; only looking up briefly from her work. “I’m sure it’s there somewhere. You might need my help getting onto the channels. It’s kind of convoluted.”
It was New Year’s Eve and Justin, who had arrived at his parent’s house earlier that afternoon to spend a few days with his folks, was hoping to find some way to pass the time. His dad was upstairs packing for an early-morning flight overseas, his mom was busy being busy, and his siblings were all off building families far away from there.
Finding the remote in an end table drawer, Justin plopped down on the couch and proceeded to try and get the large screen to flicker to life. It was only eight o’clock.
“Oh, good,” Justin’s mother said; walking into the room and drying her hands on a hand towel, “you found it. Here, let me get it going for you.” She reached down and took the controller and soon had a satellite menu on the screen. “Watch whatever you like. I’m sure there’s some football on or something.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Justin said; receiving the remote back and pulling a pillow in next to him. “Sure I can’t help you at all in there?”
“Oh, no,” Justin’s mother quickly replied. “Just make yourself at home. It’s so nice to have you here.” She looked down on Justin with a warm but fleeting smile. “I’m just going to wrap up in here and probably start getting ready for bed. I know your father is probably going to be going to bed soon as well. The company is sending a car for him at 4.”
“So, you’re not staying up ‘til midnight then?”
Justin’s mother chuckled as she turned to head back to the kitchen. “I haven’t seen the ball drop in probably twenty years.”
Justin wasn’t regretting coming home but it wasn’t going to be the fun and meaningful vacation that he’d hoped it might be. It never was. He’d been living on his own for the three years since his graduation from college but was still homesick for his parents and the life he’d enjoyed while growing up. His life in Akron was nothing like what he had known in Fort Wayne. Akron was barking bosses, echoing apartments, fast food dinners served out of drive through windows, and darting eyes in sports bars. Fort Wayne was waving neighbors, shortcuts across farmland, placemats on the dinner table, and giggling girls in high school halls. So much was missing but still he scrolled the menu for a movie, a game, or a show.
“Maybe I should drive downtown and check out First Nite,” Justin thought to himself; referring to Fort Wayne’s annual New Year’s block party. But it was a cold and windy night and he couldn’t be sure there would be anyone for him to hang out with anyway. “Maybe I’ll text some friends and see if anyone’s going.”
The Alamo Bowl was on TV and the two teams held just enough interest for Justin that he loaded the game and put the remote down on the coffee table. He folded his arms over the throw pillow that rested on his stomach and swung his legs up onto the couch. He thought he might just settle in and end the year watching football.
“Oh, good,” his mother began again, “you found a football game. There are plenty of snacks in the kitchen – I’m sure you know where to find them. And help yourself to anything in the fridge. There’s a little beer and some wine in there and I think there’s plenty of other stuff in the cabinet. Be sure to give a toast to your dear old mom,” she said with a smile as she bent down to kiss Justin on the forehead. “I’m turning in. I’ll see you in the morning, honey”
“Okay, Mom,” Justin said in reply. “Thanks for everything. Love you – happy New Year.” He only gave a brief look in his mom’s direction before fixing his gaze again on the screen. It was such a weird and unsettling thing to Justin to have his mom offer him alcohol. He liked it better back when he was begging his mom for soda instead of milk.
For the next couple of hours, Justin snacked on this and that, sipped some spiced cider, watched football, and checked his phone every two or three minutes. He could have gone to bed but didn’t feel like it. He wanted to find some significance somewhere; to do something, feel something, be something.
“What about Saint Anne’s?” the thought suddenly came to Justin; fighting its way through his subconscious. St. Anne’s was an Anglican church downtown that his family had always had a loose association with. His mom and dad had been married there years ago and the family attended Sunday services a few times every year. Justin remembered the whole family going to a New Year’s Eve service one year when most of the kids were in high school. Justin was only ten and had gathered that the family’s attendance had something to do with an ongoing argument between his older siblings and his parents concerning drinking and partying. But regardless of the reasons they’d all gone that year, it turned out to be a magical night for Justin. Ringing in the new year with singing, readings, and silent reflection had left an indelible impression on young Justin and had pinned a note on the cork board of his heart.
Justin grabbed his phone and googled to see if St. Anne’s was having a service this New Year’s Eve. The church website was poorly maintained and it didn’t look like the church calendar had been updated recently. But he went on Facebook and searched the Journal Gazette for information. From what he could tell – it looked like some kind of service was scheduled for 11pm. The clock on Justin’s phone read 10:48.
Justin scribbled out a quick note for his mom; leaving it on the kitchen counter. He grabbed his coat and hat, wallet and keys and headed out the door. The entire drive downtown, Justin was filled with an overwhelming sense of joy and the feeling surprised him. His heart was light somehow and not a little lonesome. He couldn’t explain it but an odd sort of anticipation settled in his soul.
Walking in to the old, familiar church building, Justin listened as the rector read from Scripture. A small collection of souls were scattered across the large sanctuary. The room was well-heated and warm. Justin removed his coat as he sat in one of the pews in the rear. The main of the hall was dimly lit, with only candles flickering in the windows but from spotlights up in the ceiling, bright light shone down on the altar and the pulpit behind it. Justin sat back and listened to what was being read: “A voice is calling,” the rector read in a calm, solemn tone, “‘Clear the way for the Lord in the wilderness; make smooth in the desert a highway for our God. Let every valley be lifted up, and every mountain and hill be made low; and let the rough ground become a plain, and the rugged terrain a broad valley; then the glory of the Lord will be revealed, and all flesh will see it together; for the mouth of the Lord has spoken’ A voice says, ‘Call out.’ Then he answered, ‘What shall I call out?’ All flesh is grass, and all its loveliness is like the flower of the field. The grass withers, the flower fades, when the breath of the Lord blows upon it; surely the people are grass. The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God stands forever.”
These words pealed within Justin’s heart as bells ringing out in tall towers of a city. His withering suddenly made sense and, with it, came the promise of something new. The promise of something that might stand. Earlier that day, Justin had left Akron to come home and now, in this place, he somehow knew he had.
“Thank you, Lord,” he whispered unexpectedly.
We’re looking forward to gathering together in the morning and coming home to the Lord’s presence once again – it’s such a blessing! There’s so much to say and so much to be said and in that time in the sanctuary, so much gets settled. Hallelujah for that! May the Lord, mighty God, bless and continue to keep us!
- Pastor Tate
