church

A degree of normality begins to kick in once again this week. Not that I really do 'normal' at all!

For instance - I was in seeing Mary and Joseph today. Who are getting on in years now. As you can imagine.

This season of constant festivity, for them at least, stretches on past January 1st. Jo's birthday falls on the 3rd of January. Yesterday. And he was 98.

He doesn't look it at all. And he'd been all for being out, as he generally is, at our morning worship yesterday. With the ice and the snow and the freezing cold he'd been persuaded, though, that discretion might be the better part of valour.

But it was striking to see in a couple like that just how deeply ingrained is the will to be there with the people of God on a Sunday and sharing in their worship.

Even when it's your 98th birthday. Even when there's snow and ice. Even when there are a hundred and one good excuses for not being there.

'Church' matters. They love the church.

It may be flawed in a million ways (it is). It may not always be exactly to their taste (it isn't).

But they understand, I think, that the church is the bride of Christ and if we love the Lord we will love his bride as well. They understand that it's there, in our involvement in a local church (for all its flaws, for all the things that aren't to our liking at all), it's there that our relationship with Jesus Christ is most truly and fully lived out.

Yes, there are people who call on them. Fine followers of Jesus Christ. And yes, they have good times with them as well. And maybe the chat will get round to the things of God and maybe a prayer will be said. And yes, that's 'church' as well, in a sense.

But it's not quite the same as their getting themselves to the place at the time when the people of God assemble together for worship. And it's never going to be a substitute for that either.

Mary and Joseph know that.

They know very well - far better than some who are 'Johnny-come-latelys' to the whole Jesus thing - they know very well that it's there when the people of God all gather together like that - it's there they'll be able to sing to God's praise and sound out the greatness of God: it's there that the Scriptures will be read, taught, explained, by one who's been called and anointed by God to that end: it's there that the church is most truly and fully herself.

Sure, there are loads of ways that the people of God may worship. And sure, Mary and Joseph are probably none too enamoured with some of those ways.

But they know that that's where they're called and meant to be. They know that's what 'church' is and entails.

It was pretty much the same earlier on in the day when I called in at the hospital to see another lady who had fallen over Christmas and had undergone some surgery on her leg.

She's well on in years as well. Not quite as well on as Joseph is. But getting there.

She's fairly blind. Her husband died a good few years ago. And she's not kept the best of health.

And here she was in hospital again.

But as bright as a button! Mentally more alert than half of the doctors I'd think. And in terms of her outlook, so positive, warm and upbeat.

What a tonic to call by and see her.

And what does she miss? She misses the church.

She doesn't get out on a Sunday these days. It's the Wednesday lunch-time service of worship which she now attends.

The time of day and length of service suit her needs. Plus, we hire a bus each Wednesday which does the rounds and picks up a load of folk like her. That's what makes it possible for her to come.

The people of God at worship. Singing, praying, learning. The Scriptures being read and explained and applied. And the chance as well to sit and have a meal with one another, too.

It's that she really misses. She misses the church.

Yes, we spoke of the Lord as she lay there in her bed.

And yes, there was the chance to pray there in the hospital ward.

(I should have said, she's pretty deaf as well: so the prayer would have doubtless been heard a mile away I'd have thought!)

But it's not quite the same. And, like Mary and Joseph, she knows it.

Too many today are eager, it seems, for a most unholy divorce.

Driving a wedge between Jesus and his bride.

You just can't have this Jesus without his bride.

Jo - at 98 there's nothing wrong with your sight! You see things very clearly.