by Wendy Morical
As our beautiful valley enters fully into springtime, I’ve been delighted by daily reminders of burgeoning life. The sandhill cranes are back in our field, and catkins droop from our aspen trees. For me, one of the most beautiful, hope-filled sights in recent days was the live Easter service shared by a small number of Pilgrims and broadcast to the rest of us. It was uplifting to see life return to the sanctuary, recognize voices speaking of their joys, and hear the Easter news straight from Reverend Weaver’s mouth. Hallelujah!
One of the best moments of the service was when, for the first time, the call to prayer that Reverend Weaver has introduced to us online was lifted up by voices around the room, softly and with gentle harmonization. (It’s at about 40 minutes on the recording if you haven’t listened to the service yet). We began by hearing Dick’s familiar voice in solo, just as he has been singing this meditative call from his home for weeks. Soon, however, other voices joined in, growing in confidence, and branching out into gentle harmonies: Ubi caritas, et amor. Ubi caritas, Deus ibi est. Where there is charity and love, where there is charity, there is God.
It was profoundly moving. This moment seemed emblematic of what’s ahead as we come together – each from our separate place of worship, prayer, contemplation, and meditation – to resume our Christian fellowship.
But will we simply resume? I have been thinking a lot about our church and what is ahead for us. Obviously, we will be thrilled to be able to meet in person and rekindle the energy of our building: hearing children giggling in the hallway, browsing the books for sale, enjoying gifted musicians in a shared space. A church is not the physical space, though. For all our dismay and longing to be back in our building, that structure on South Third is not Pilgrim Church. Throughout the Bible, when the word church is used, it designates the people (ekklēsia), not a building. Biblically speaking, people do not go to church, people are the church.
It’s us, the people who have chosen to gather there in covenant with one another. We are not a holy enclave of like-minded people who all believe, think and experience things in the same manner; in fact, we have significant differences. Nonetheless, we have willingly unified in a committed community of people who are striving, individually and together, to hear God’s voice and respond through lives of faith. The longing we feel for one another is certainly based in our genuine enjoyment of one another, but it’s also a craving for that human space in which we can be vulnerable, uncertain, and searching but also find ourselves accepted and supported. We trust in the charity with which we will be met by others in our Pilgrim family.
In imagining the months ahead, take a moment and dream of what the 'coming together’ of Pilgrims could be for you. How can our fellowship best challenge and sustain you in your life of faith? How might we, together, be a greater, more loving presence in Bozeman and beyond? I’d like to invite you to prayerfully open your hearts to even deeper ways for us to follow Jesus, loving and supporting one another as well as those in our greater community. As a church, we will be reflecting, sharing, building, and celebrating Pilgrim in the years to come. This work will take all of us, but we won’t be working alone.
Wherever we gather with charity and love, God will be with us.