The morning is cool and the neighborhood is calm as I approach the three sets of doors on 11th Street that are effectively the front entrance to Hope Church. One of them creaks open with the click of the lock, and with a small rush still air meets fresh air. My nose and skin notice the convergence. The doors stay open when pushed all the way, and soon all three stand wide, exposing the dim entrance to cool light and waking sounds.
Inside the sanctuary the morning sun is illuminating the Old Testament prophets in the east windows; it must be Ezekiel with the scroll, and King David with his harp. And Jesus is among them, a shepherd. Perhaps they offer a suggestion for how we should live–fill up with light and pass it along.
The space is dark and quiet, and the creak of my step almost startles me as I move toward the table. All is at peace, and the space itself beckons me to peace. I find the light switch for the engraved Lord’s Supper and spend a moment after it is lit taking it in. In the semi-darkness its light draws my attention–friends sharing a meal around the table, intrigued by some new information, watching and whispering; a new covenant? Did they ever imagine how big the table would be?
I look down the aisle and see the trees, light streaming in; I hear bird songs, muffled voices, and the occasional wash of a car going by. At the engraved table behind me, Jesus faces this direction as well, arms open.
On Wednesday mornings you and the neighbors and visitors are invited to spend time in the space of our sanctuary from 8-9am for personal prayer and meditation. Our space is a gift to us and to the community, and this is a small way we can share it and open it to others. May it be a “house of prayer for all nations.”
~Andrew