6. The Lost Sheep

I attended worship in one of our country churches last Sunday. I arrived a few minutes early and found they were having Sunday School in the sanctuary, so I waited in the entry area for it to end. I waited along with about 50 of my closest friends, or so they seemed after huddling in that tight space for a few minutes.
I learned about the local basketball scores, found out that Dan was back in church for the first time in months after receiving a new pancreas, caught up on who expected the Steelers to win the Super Bowl, and that sort of thing.
Eventually, the doors opened and we found our seats in the sanctuary. The pastor walked up and down the aisles greeting people while neighbors checked in with one another. The pastor’s wife saw me and took a seat beside me as a sign of welcome. By the time all had settled in there were about 100 of us.
Then I noticed a quiet flurry of activity behind me. I looked back and saw that an older gentleman was having what appeared to be a diabetic seizure. The pastor was already at the spot and was working with family members to give assistance. The Sunday School superintendent called for an ambulance, then invited the congregation to enter into a time of prayer.
During the prayer, a member came from a back room with grape juice for the man. Someone else happened to have some Coke to give to him. Perhaps it is the old preacher in me, but I believe it must have been the grape juice and the prayer that did the work. Within seconds the man began to become alert again. Still, for a few more minutes, the congregation cast aside the intended plans for worship and attended to one person’s needs while waiting for the ambulance.
I was struck by the fact that in that moment 99 of those present were healthy and fully capable of carrying out the task that had brought them to church. Only one person was out of sorts. I thought of the Parable of the Lost Sheep while the 99 waited for the one to be restored.
Eventually, the man was feeling a bit better, so worship continued. The ambulance finally came while the congregation happened to be singing “How Great Thou Art” and praying the Lord’s Prayer. By the time the prayer had ended, the man was in the ambulance and getting his vital signs checked. The pastor mentioned that if he ever needed an ambulance, he hoped it would happen while a congregation sang “How Great Thou Art” and prayed the Lord’s Prayer. I had to agree with him.
The service continued, but I think worship had already happened. The congregation had been about the work of worship all along, joining together as a community, praying for one in need, caring more about their neighbor’s need than their own, acting to bring healing while trusting God to act, living out the Scriptures they had come to hear proclaimed.
Often we think that worship is an orderly process, defined in advance, printed in a bulletin, and requiring certain words or actions. We think that the Word is only proclaimed when it is pronounced from the pulpit by an inspired orator.
Truthfully, though, the definition of liturgy is “the work of the people.” Sometimes, God finds a way to proclaim the Word to us at a moment and in a way that surprises us. Often, worship is not the result of what is printed before us; rather, it results when our hearts take over, we forget about time and schedule, and we become a community in the presence of God.