WJI Blog 2022, May 22 AM - Signposts of Home

What surprised me most about church this morning is how it felt like coming home. I mean, not right at first – we entered the elementary school where it was located in an odd little huddle, and then there was the split second of not knowing where to go, the consciousness of being interlopers in this clearly tight-knit community (and what if I’d taken someone’s seat?).

But then I opened the bulletin, and my eyes fell on a printed song – Come, Thou Almighty King. Next to it was a prayer of confession, and a wave of glad familiarity hit me – like when you turn the corner onto your own street after a long road trip. Little things, things you wouldn’t ordinarily take much notice of, like the neighbor’s yard sign or rose bush, are like signposts of home. And in this bulletin I noticed each responsive Amen and creed.

Of course, no church is perfect. And I’ve never walked into a church that I agree with on every single Christian idea or interpretation. I kept flipping through the bulletin. This church clearly had some doctrinal differences with me – infant baptism, using the name “Eucharist” for the Lord’s Supper, even female elders. But in essentials, these random people from Iowa were my brothers and sisters – not really random at all, but chosen with me to be part of the family of God. Come to think of it, this was a family reunion. A family reunion with my favorite worship style.

The service was good. We were welcomed. I wish there had been more songs. I’m used to long sermons, too, so I was surprised when it ended. All the words and responses were a little different from the ones I know so well – they sounded a little odd in my mouth, and I stumbled over the changes: Holy Spirit instead of Holy Ghost. From there instead of from thence. Communion, too, was served differently. I hadn’t expected to have to get up and go to the front to receive it.

But we were singing another song I love – Yet Not I, But Through Christ In Me. What gift of grace is Jesus, my Redeemer. There is no more for heaven now to give…And I knew it was true. Because in the gift of Jesus I am given a thousand other gifts – His sacrifice. The bread and juice on my tongue that signifies it. A branch of the family of God in Sioux Center, Iowa. And a sureness in my soul that turning to Him in worship is turning around the corner toward home.

I don’t mean to say that the style of worship and prayer that I prefer is the only true way to approach God. Within the neighborhood of God’s family, saved by grace through faith, there are many roads that lead us toward home and Him. But I guess what I’m trying to say is that today I was grateful to find a group of people who travel a road and look for signposts like mine.

- Elizabeth Russell